 |
||
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
| A jacking by Quétinbec 12/28/2019, 12:23am PST | ||||
 |
 |
|||
| I never got a chance to wow ladies with my bucks because I was already married by the time I got them, but my money features in most of my wank fantasies and helps me fool my dick into thinking I could fuck the young and pretty women on my screens. I'm not alone in this given the prominence of 'landlord' porn on Pornhub. I pretty much assume I could fuck anyone working retail and wank accordingly.
Before I had money, I tried to distinguish myself from other men through my travel and interesting place of residency. I'd rub both those things in peoples faces. Now, that I have money, I act as if I'm above travelling. Travel was something I did before I had better things to do. Anyway, in 2013, I was in Argentina as part of a South American trip (to secretly find a wife). This was before serious money and just before the illegitimate child. An Argentinian lady at a large nightclub had taken an interest in me. I can't remember if she was beautiful, just that she was brunette. She wanted to dance with me and I would have been drunk enough to dance under normal circumstances, but all the music in Argentina was Spanish and unfamiliar and everyone knew choreographed moves for each song. Kind of like when the macarena comes on and there's some stupid fucking dance I guess we were all supposed to memorize at the time, and everyone who did memorize it jumps up on the dancefloor, and everyone who didn't leaves it. I think there are a couple of songs like that in the English speaking world. In Argentina, every song is like that. So, if you're not part of this choreographed routine, you stand out like a sore thumb, which I already struggle with due to my height. I wasn't able to dance in these conditions. This girl had a male friend who I worried was potentially a boyfriend and (I think) my reluctance to dance with her made him ask me if I was gay. I told him no. I tried to solve this dancing problem by drinking more shots, and I was buying them for lots of nearby people to try to show off my wealth (killing two birds with one stone). All the shots eventually make me feel sick. I don't remember leaving the club, but I remember being sick in the taxi (alone) because I tried to be sick on my shirt to avoid soiling the taxi. The taxi driver didn't give a fuck and threw me out beside a large park. I pulled out my phone to try to find my hotel. Now, people forget how freakishly large the original Galaxy Note 1 appeared. I think they called it a 'phablet' back then. It was a statement phone. I remember before buying it, going down to the phone shop to see if it would fit in the pockets of my jeans. People would make fun of me for putting a 'TV screen' to my ears, etc... I pulled this thing out in the dead of night and I'm trying to locate my hotel when I'm approached by what I think is a small, brown beggar. He's grabbing my shirt and talking to me in Spanish. I keep saying no to him and apologizing as we both walk slowly down the side of the park. He's pulling my shirt and then gets angry. I remember finding it strange that a beggar would be angry. What kind of fucking bullshit beggar is this?! Then I realize that what I thought was his fingernail under my shirt wass actually a knife and the beggar isn't a beggar but a robber. I only figured out the robber thing when he withdrew the knife from under my shirt to gesture about removing my watch. Then he put the knife back under my shirt I assume to hide it from anyone who was watching. I gave him the money I had scrunched up in my front pocket - about $200. I hadn't taken my wallet as I feared being mugged and I shared the cash around all my jean pockets as a precaution. I gave him my watch. Then, he gestures to my phone. I needed my phone to get to the hotel; it had all my photos, and I'd be fucked without it. He kept taking his eyes off me and looking at his hand with the cash and watch in it because the notes were all scrunched up and in danger of falling out of his hand. During one of these glances, I decided to sprint as fast as I could towards traffic. I thought it was better to be hit by a car than stabbed, and also better to be stabbed in the back than in the front. I don't know if he tried to follow me as I never looked back. The police picked me up at some point. I tried to explain what had happened in a language they didn't understand. I was trying to mime a knife stabbing, but my shirt was covered in vomit and I must have looked like shit, so they took me to the police station. Perhaps they thought I was a lunatic. None of the cops at the station at that hour spoke English. Someone eventually handed me a phone and the English speaker on the other line said, "Don't worry, we'll contact your embassy. We'll put you on the first plane back to your country." This freaked me out so I approached a policemen and showed him my hotel's address and offered him all the Pesos in my back pocket if he took me there, which he did. |
||||
 |
 |
|||
|
A jacking by 12/28/2019, 12:23am PST  Not THAT kind of jacking? In a QB post? NT by 12/28/2019, 1:18pm PST Content, here? Content! NT by 12/28/2019, 2:21pm PST You must construct more police stations, Presidente by 12/29/2019, 10:16pm PST Re: A jacking by 01/05/2020, 10:57pm PST and now you know the rest of the story NT by 01/06/2020, 6:37am PST |
