I live and work in a pub in the west end, the part of London where
tourists, piss heads, homosexuals, drug dealers, businessmen and street
scum all come together as one and keep me awake at night. Nah I
love it really, the atmosphere, the crowds, the girls, the fights, it’s
all action to me. And working and living in a pub in this area
provides plenty of it. I have lived in a few different ones
around London and well these are stories direct from the love stained
pages of the Van Holden files.
West End Premiere League – Champion Sleaze
Okay so midweek saw the first game of the champions league and due to
my stellar performance the season before in St. Albans, where I notched
up threesomes of both variety and popped my backdoor cherry (with a
girl), my current boss – to tell you totally everything. I had
been promoted to play with some of Europe’s best, and my juggling
skills were going to have to be at their best because balls were flying
at me from all directions.
Staff mate Sweden was a long term goal which I had to play carefully,
meanwhile I had noted in the referees black book that the Germans were
fielding a star player in the restaurant across the road and they all
came to us to get leathered which helped the game plan. However
in between all this a horny little Australian decided that she wanted
to play staring games with me from the middle of the room and I
couldn’t help but think that maybe she was a slut.
It’s funny because in Australia girls are often stuck up and hard to
pull, but as soon as they head overseas they get really loose.
And I can’t imagine that it is just all the slappers that travel the
world. So I wasn’t complaining when this girl got really drunk
and gave me a snog goodbye with the promise of some Friday night footy.
Thursday night saw me and Lee corrupt the Swedes a little bit
more. They’re only nineteen and due to Swedish culture they are a
little shy and standoffish. However teaching them that drinking
at work makes the night more interesting and giving them a joint after
work, seemed to have them talking like the dirty porn loving Swedes
that they are. No, really these girl are really nice and are not
slappers at all, it is just that image the world has of Sweden.
Blonde, big breasted and love to be naked in saunas. Well this is
not all true the naked in sauna bit is supposedly the Finnish and
Norwegian people, so the girls say. Still any of those
Scandinavian countries look good to me.
So Friday night dawned upon me, I was working that night but it
did not seem to hinder my goal scoring ability. The Aussie slut
rocked up with her friend as promised and started the world
championships of staring right from the get go. I had given
myself a good warm up before the match by sucking down two cans of
Strongbow Super, the fuel that any good sportsman should drink before a
big game. I’m sure George Best would approve and endorse this
drink as his official sports drink if he was still playing today.
A little after half time I was heading down to the cellar to get some
ice and I was going to need it to put out the fire in my pants after
the Aussie slut followed me down behind closed doors and let me have
shots on goal at free will. The wash machine was a great
launching point for me to open up holes in her shirt and bra.
Before I knew it she was lining up for a header. Knowing that any
of the other staff members could come through the door at any stage I
thought I should blow the referees whistle and not my own, but the
young Aussie lass knew how to play soccer and so I rode the wave that
the wash machine was creating and shot one head height into the back of
the net. Glorious goal!
After, the manager talked of a rematch later in the night, but
when the call came through on the bat phone, this soldier saw no reason
to fight anymore.
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