"Expensive girls?"

The graduation party was a great idea. I made love.

"No, Polish wives not expensive, seeking exotic. It is far better than whores house because it is free and she makes you a coffee with breakfast when you shower to leave before her husband returns with her kids."

"You lucky brother. I want it too but I am stuck working in London."

"I wish you great dreams while working in London."

"Thanks, brother. I will follow in your footsteps one day."

£.£

She was working for this poor reputation Polish employment agency. I was after her and my paycheck. I became her employee when her husband was not looking.

"When polish holes light up, it is a great thing. You believe me, brother."

I spoke with his cousin from London.

"You will not believe how I bend over two Dutch cafe specialists. These were nothing near insane to a service on the table."

"I bet their men were angry."

"They are nothing but lickers once I decorate their waffles."

"You just cannot stop buying condoms focking whores in the Netherlands Kingdom."

"Yes I know in England we have them for free or women carry them."

"They can be badass whores when you stretch their maxi dress."

Bradley Mat finishes his phone call and drinks the last Expresso cup before he stands up.

¥.¥

"The whores are for free, they took my roof off in a Kurva bus giving a blow job."

"Yes, cousin I know about it. You just take it easy."

"Her head is working easily on my knees representing their country."

"Ok, I must finish this phone call. I think I will finish talking with you."

My Justina's hair was soft, feeling her in my palm, head raising slowly swallowing my joy and pride acknowledged in her married bad mouth.

I knew it was a bad company.

The bold Polish Overlord Rob Dutch was such a masturbating loser knowing I picked his best apple. It made me happy on the way to his work.

But her manager Rob Dutch was a hardman and I did study her well, licking me underneath.

He never paid us in time nor hours we worked for his little agency but sharing his wife in company transport was a great compensation for the lost time.

Their art of manliness is nothing to Congolese. In between, you take the whole bus of their wives and you make me hungry.

Our yellow van did approach the Utrecht company warehouse.

"What darling?"

"It is nothing but you keep looking for a pen you lost. I am busy with my cousin."

"I can imagine she is working for you now? I wish you a happy journey."

"Thank you, cousin.

"I am jealous you have a free ride to work."

"Thanks! I must finish smoking while driving our manager's transport. He wants us to deliver his coffee."

She sucks her juices up her jaw pushes her fingernail in and spits in a plastic coffee cup smiling a slight demeanour looking Bradley Mat in eyes.

"It will be his cup."

He has no time to respond but close his zip up.

"He is an asshole making us drive while we have to bring him his morning coffee."

The yellow Elle's recruits transporter was near their distribution centre in the outskirts of Amsterdam.

I know Elle's recruits. It was great knowing they opened my path to polish joy.

When I was tired from business school in central London learning about the money exchange table.

I applied for the job in Amsterdam and left seeking an adventure in a Dutch logistics company helping move cargo, enjoying their wives and my paycheck.

It was the agency I was working for under fallen king's blood in Elle's recruiting agency assisting dutch tax haven to fill their pockets.

The company never paid me well nor did it help me to live but made taxes in the country.

I made money and took my experience further spreading the wisdom I took from the Polish agency back to a great Poland. The wings I will spread.

I knew no better job than to enjoy their husbands coffee while their beloved ones are working on my knees. At the time of the morning, I could swap their night shifts.

His loyal henchmen were Romanian and Polish men.

One was working in the GPS tracking department and the other Romanian was a pickup driver in an electric cart collecting women's underwear before cargo expeditions.

The native Polish henchmen was a stupid blond polish guy in name of Damien News, and his violent uncle Zbigniav News.

They were crazy violent drugs abusers you should never cross unless you seek death.

They loved whore houses and cheap Asian meat they would spend money on.

The Polish Brief Trio from other houses were heavy smokers. Our Chucky, Pioter and Damino Dolls, the three cousins, made a lot of problems.

But it was always the truth. I cannot have my prize without a battle versus Polish Overlord losers.

I had a friend. His name was Merlin. He was a wise man with a huge beard like a magician from ancient tales of round knights of England.

He drove me to success, he said I am not alone.

Those loyal Spanish household serpents made me an altar next to an empty pallet on a large cardboard box. They drew a huge black tower of my joy.

I heard them praying, kneeling on a pallet holding their hands together.

"Oh, Santa Maria."

Their asses were lovely and juicy, the men sharing drugs between weaklings. I find a way to distract their woman willing to accept the passionate me.

I was feeling happy when my father passed the ministerial bar and I found something to talk about with them.

It was just sharing pure joy, squirting and moulding the love of red tip between them the best drug no drug store or their men dealers were able to uncover.

I took black cook altar and drove a couple rounds past the manager's desk to show how they worship me.

This was not enough. I made the red cross closer to the red tip with huge card balls. The Spanish order pickers did help with polish melon chests pushing them on tight corner curves to help me get around.

We had Cyclops security securing our love spot warehouse and watching us.

€.€

It was a summer of love we had sex near lake with polish brunette.

Our brunette from Poland did feel her moon was right and left her boyfriend behind to pay her bills.

I knew she would stroke my pride and smooth me from Polish racism machine we take shelter near the lake we swim, swing in the water and I did massage her soaked apple did help her understand I am good guy.

I am not a foolish asylum seeker who took refugees, stole their money they never had and just enjoyed life like the rest of the human beings.

I felt no resolve to smoothen her lips on my groin knowing her racist boyfriend did follow satanic King and Queen of Netherlands Kingdom laws to abuse their powers.

'You are a proper whore."

I spoke to her pressing her melons on our Elle's recruits t-shirts.

She did wash my stress away I would know we have hope in the near future and love can prosper in Polish lips.

$.$

My first coordinator was a modern woman wearing punk gothic clothes in a leather jacket wearing a necklace like a kitten's bell.

Her name was Karatowa and I was in love with how I made her bell ring behind her.

She knew my and Justina's love romance but her way to make kittens did ask me more to share and another mouth to feed I let our "gaijin" cream spread off her lips.

"It is so much."

She spoke in twisted lips not letting everything go from her lunch meniu she had her fingernail suck everything in and made joy in her eyes.

We did a house inspection. I took her to the laundry room to let her learn how I made everything clean and enjoy our clothes rack on fresh laundry to hang together.

How I twisted her black cotton panties off her like it is a cow gum throwing on side to others fresh wash.

We closed the curtains and let the washing machine block the noise. I did share the noise of her bell ring stroking in behind her.

She did write her manager Rob Dutch our love Karatowa is thinking house 16A is clean and well polished.

I twisted her round not letting her finish the report let everything from my heart's content flow to her mouth she would spread the word.

It was the encounter of contemporary romance. How she walked in my bungalow triple bedroom and stroked her open leather jacket let me know.

"I want you."

I did make a safe approach and not letting our eyes constant gaze I stroke her breasts to make sure she is on the same page.

Thank you. We had a great Dragons and Dungeons fantasy role play experience in a Polish house.

Did the journey end? I did say no to myself because once you taste Polish cuisine you never stop coming to your meals.

^.o

My dreams were like a women's prison.

I am sitting there in the communal kitchen dining room and they are treating me like I am a racist from Africa.

"Yes it is our Romanian food and we are eating it."

I was hoping to wish them to enjoy their meals while they insisted I hate them.

I felt wrong and knew the evil Polish Overlord henchmen were well skilled to make lies and diversions to assist the Polish Empire of Evil to prosper.

Their wives were seducing me like a prostitute in the laundry room in underwear only turning their butts asking for assistance with laundry.

I was living in the Netherlands Kingdom, Maarssen, the Dutch hell.

The housemaster was a fat Polish whore who drank every day to sleep.

Her red nose told everything about herself. I was wrong to believe the country of tulips, was a drug whores and prostitutes kingdom.

I knew the truth. It was no place for religion the King of Netherlands discarded as a crime nor his chariot earned from slavery was merely his vagina wagon.

When I moved next door to a house full of Polish people, they spiked my drinking water with narcotics.

It not only confused me but made a lot of huger erection to penetrate their defences.

Thank you dear poland! I am able to write you this love letter.

^.^

When writing our assignment in university.

I did remember how a married woman from Vilnius to an office worker was displaying sex in online cameras.

I was browsing porn sites while reading documents to complete university assignments I submitted watching Maxima Seksyte play her fingers under the desk, letting her married finger wild in spoiling the juices of their love apple juice.

Her married apple made a momentum to be the greatest forbidden fruit online in the whole world to examine.

Thank you Maxima Seksyte for letting me know how you appreciate strangers' pair of eyes online allowing us to stroke love with you.

She had her daughter walk and husband but she said she was busy writing a report and did not discontinue a hidden camera peepshow letting her married finger soiled with her office tool the soft gel tip pen.

*.*

I knew the Netherlands had sexy lips when a blond Polish teenager raised my black staff near the drawing bridge behind my bush with her.

I was holding her small blond haircut when I burst.

"Oh fock how much she sucked it out of me."

The white cream was pouring out her mouth.

Read carefully if you want to have sex for free.

You met her online and she is in your sex friends call logbooks.

I added to her contacts I could gain access to her friends, friends and families.

When the sperm filled her lips it was amazing to know.

*.*

I remember a late night in a park near Vecht river I had two cans of a proper brew when two polish late-night joggers decided to sit near me in slim fit wear rub their arms around me take turns watching me, looking me in eyes kissing me and listening to the wave's of the river while another one was busy behind my knees.

*.*

I had a cycling accident hit the back of her bike back from office work.

I helped her back home before her husband returned.

She did not complain, I made her leggings break then.

It was a juicy pumpkin to spread the seeds.

I did remember all those grand stories I made on my way to success and will write to you soon in our love letters but first I was hoping to let you know the story before I reveal their juicy details.

Thank you for reading and I will tell you my story about a true Congolese man who fought Polish evil in our fictional journey through the truth.