Rendezvous at The Castle De Perrier

So, where does one start? Lets us commence from the beginning.

New Year being just round the corner, and I have been bulldozed to come abroad for a party. Panicking from pillar to post, I arrange my tickets to fly out to the infamous Castle de Perrier. Now my understanding is that this is going to be a formal affair, so I have packed accordingly. I have reached the airport in time and arrived at my destination. Little did I know, it was going to be so cold as the airplane doors opened.
I leap into a taxi that promptly takes me to Castle de Perrier and I check in.

I go upstairs and get familiar with my surroundings, and before I know it it’s 9pm already. By 8pm, everyone should be mingling in the lobby…cripes! I efficiently get dressed and make my way swiftly to the lobby. On entry, I am stopped in my tracks and I wonder to myself whether or not I am in the wrong party. Lined before me lies a mass of swirling bodies in the delight of erotica, and things that I dare not even print in order to save us all blushes. As my eyes span around to the other parts of the room, there were all sorts of delights taking place. Now to put things into perspective, this is beginning to look like a fancy dress event, however, with the kind of attire that can quickly degrade a formal episode to one of a Caligula spectacle; I’m sure you understand what I mean, the type that leaves no doubt to the imagination!

Now the interesting part, is that we seem to have ‘basset all sorts': all ages, races, fetishes and I think you know, from women to men, all sizes. The debauchery heightens the risk when I realize my hand has been interlinked with the softest touch, and I find myself in a dizzy spell with individuals whom I’ve had no introductions with, clearly trying to take advantage of my rather aroused disposition. Alas, what is a girl to do under such delights. Now, the options are very clear: do I play coy and run away, or do I give into my irrational desires? In the thought process, I feel a delicate feminine caress massage my bosom. The pleasure and intensity of such that I felt the juices flow. Before I know, I’m feeling the pulsating of the highest intensity, and I find myself embroiled in bodies. With all inhibitions non-existent, I can’t help but re-pay the delicate touch in full.

I’m a lady, and a lady never tells.

I shall leave the rest to your imagination.

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