The blast of warm air signalling the arrivalof the Underground train. Everywhere you look, that distinctive map.Ten minutes in London and you're fully...assimilated. You want to stay.You'd move here if you could afford to.Of course it's an illusion. Of course there's loneliness and deprivation.Of course there's violence and crime.But it's not hard to understand why those who already have roots in thiscity very rarely want to set them down anywhere else.We take the Piccadilly line, jammed into a. “Well, I have a confession to make, maybe it’s because of the wine we’re drinking and the fact your hard on is staring at me through those boxers and the fact that I haven’t been fucked for years but you know when we dance?” She said as she began to slur her words.“Yeah” I replied.“Well I could feel that thing poking me on the dance floor” she said.“Yeah, well I kind of figured you could” I said as I began to move closer to her. I moved close enough where my erection was practically hitting. More

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