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About Phoenix

Last week, tried it meself—cor, what a lark! This bird, absolute stunner, starts working me knots out. “Keep it civilised,” I mutter, quoting Gustave, but crikey, my mind’s gone *ad astra*—to the stars! Hands sliding south, tension melting, I’m grinning like a daft berk. Then—bam!—she hits a spot, I yelp, bloody embarrassing. “Rudimentary, my dear Watson,” I laugh, botching the quote cos I’m half-gone. Felt like a king, tho—happier than a pig in muck.