A lovely relaxed journey to get here. Another stroke of luck topping up my oyster at St Pancras so I had some money on it for when I came back, I came back up the stairs right behind a gorgeous curvy brunette, short black coat over tight blue jeans over most wonderful fat voluptuous arse, wiggling hips, sensational. Passing her when she stopped to look at departures board, I saw she had wonderful big bosoms in a grey wool sweater as well. 10 out of 10. Then in the Continental Bar the prettiest girl I have ever seen working there. Brown hair held up in bun, long blue jumper over black leggings, wonderful pretty face. A serenity and calmness about her. 805 now. For first time in years I have brought my laptop with me. This enables me to pass the time in the mornings without needing to start drinking straight away. Plans for today an early Cine Paris, then early bar crawl of the Rue d’Aerschot to see what the windows have to offer, then back to Fifth for 4pm perhaps. Later tonight hopefully I will be fit enough to have a nightcap in Empire.
1105 the Cine Paris shutters were still closed so I came back for a McDonald’s instead, and sat in the McDonald’s eating it. Absolutely gorgeous brunette ponytail girl serving me, her heavy bosoms (Moroccan perhaps) straining so hard against the tight green McDonald’s top, and beautiful curvy bottom straining against her black jeans. Better than anything I would see in the porn cinema. Oh Brussels. I am under your spell, and defenceless. Hardly worth going to Cine Paris now even if it’s open; so back to the Max lounge for one last Jupiler (1,10). More than ever, I love this city. Even after all these years I realise now I have only just scratched the surface of the pleasures it could offer me. And there was I just 24 hours ago with all sincerity saying NO MORE TRAVELLING. Well, I’m fucked now. Brussels has me in its thrall more than ever before. My whole life now revolves around getting back to Brussels as often as I can.
Highlights of this trip? None, really. Just that brief moment Mariana opened her door and bent down to talk to me and her pendulous bosoms so nearly fell out of her long orange dress. Hopefully this will be enough to keep me away from Brussels until my end of year Vienna trip. Indeed, as soon as I get home, book the Vienna trip now! Far in advance hopefully I can guarantee my favourite hotel, and at cheap prices. 3 months to wait? You think I can?
So this curiously sexless sojourn in Brussels nears its end. Not feeling in the mood for anything naughty at any point. Maybe too anaesthetised with lovely ice cold watery Jupiler beer; maybe too many things to do back at home making me anxious to be back and get on with them; I don’t know. A brief stop in Cine Paris, then up to Rue d’Aerschot—Marianna the pick of the windows again. Her bosoms are extraordinary. But even with her I did not feel at all tempted to stay. A Brussels Grill Steak then back to bed. 8pm now, and I try to prepare to go out again.
Little black-haired Japanese or Chinese girl under my window in tight white T-shirt “La Vie est Belle”, over massive bosoms, pulling a suitcase. Let’s hope she checks in here. Oh but thank god I DID something this time! Always I come on holiday and I um and ah and think she’s nice, but for one reason or another I put off and put off and end up coming home having done nothing. Hope this is a cue for me for do something EVERY DAY on this trip—which is always my intention when I leave boring London.
I was dizzy with erotic anticipation in the weeks & days leading up to my trip and I wondered whether I would be able to carry it with me and still feel the same when I got there; as I suspected, no. During my stay in Berlin I felt almost completely a-sexual. But as always it just takes one beautiful bottom or one beautiful pair of bosoms to get me in the mood again. I hope it happens in Brussels. My train to Koln is already 21 minutes late, giving me just 13 minutes to spare to catch my connection. I sat drinking my one beer surrounded by floozies in King George, Club 77, Monte Carlo and Sissi Bar and felt completely unmoved and unaroused by all of them. I hope something happens in Brussels to shake me out of my torpor. This is madness.
I do wonder if the black-haired Bulgarian Diamant bar manager is a former whore; she does have the most massive bosoms (not that massive bosoms makes someone a whore, of course; I’m not saying that; I’m not). I wonder how much longer the street girls will be here. The Mayor was talking about getting rid of them by the end of this year. How massively bland Brussels will seem without them. A whole ecosystem wiped out. And what harm are they causing exactly? 1pm. Another hour. Already I look forward to my return to Brussels. The whores do come into Diamant, but only the older ones it seems, none of the younger ones, like Bruna. No the bar manager is Alex, not Alice. All I can think about is Brussels Grill. Wow, and then Bruna walks in, for a coffee, which she takes outside. She does have a lovely arse & thighs in those blue jeans.