My dear sweet email friend Kristina,
When you call me Sweetness, I feel a swelling in my loins. I believe I am starting to fall for you.
I can’t believe you live in Cheboksary! That is one of my favorite Russian cities to explore on Wikipedia! If memory serves, Cheboksary is a city and the capital of the Chuvash Republic, Russia. It is a port on the Volga River, right? Population is, maybe, 453,784? I am assuming a few babies have been born since the 2004 estimate that keeps running through my mind. I know that Cheboksary is divided into three city districts, but I am wondering if you know my good friend Igor Statzlicky? I recall that he may live in the district of Leninsky.
It must be nice to live on a port city. My mother and father actually met at a port as well. There’s a port, on a western bay, and it serves a hundred ships a day. Lonely sailors, pass the time away and talk about their homes. My mother was a girl in this harbor town, she was working layin’ whiskey down; when the sailors said “Brandy, fetch another round,” she’d serve them whiskey and wine.
The sailors would say “Brandy, you’re a fine girl” (she was a fine girl) and “What a good wife you would be” (really, she was a fine girl). Her eyes could steal a sailor from the sea.
Anyway, to make a long story short, my mom wears a braided chain, made of finest silver from the North of Spain, a locket that bears the name of the man that Brandy loves — my father.
It’s a romantic story, I think, one that perhaps our own children will tell about us one day. Although, perhaps in their version, the braided silver chain and the locket with the name will be replaced with a gob of jism you’re wearing in your hair and crusted come stains on your blouse!
Kristina, I look forward to hearing so much more about you, and seeing more naked photos that I can cherish along with the jug of Vasoline I keep on my nightstand.
Indeed, I cannot resist your female magic, and I look forward to your travels back from the moon, or whatever you meant, as I was skimming and still looking at the nipple shot you sent a few days back.
Be well, my friend, and please write more.