Polish Girlfriends

Warsaw amateur

Siffing through old boxes from the attic one may find prints of long gone ex-girlfriends. What to do with those images? You can’t just throw them away. That would be a waste. Let’s share them with our brothers online. Here is a series from a German ex-girlfriend from the 80ies. She was the first kinky date I had. Watersports were her favorites. Her urine tasted honey sweet and warm and the scent made me horny like a tick hungry for blood.

Helga was her name. Met her … I don’t remember how, but I think it was in the sauna. She was doing karate and pole dancing. Helga had an amazingly strong body, was shaved to perfection and had this super strong, curly hair like Barbara Dare.

When the border to East Germany and Poland fell in 1989 I became addicted to the women from Poland. I moved there for ten years and started to shoot nudes of Polish amateurs. First for print magazines like Chicago Hot and St Pauli News and later for some of the first solo girls online amateur pages featured on the Amateurindex. Eva was one of the best models I was able to get in front of my lens. She had the desire to pose and put herself in the best angle.

She was almost as tight as Helga, but a lot warmer and more intimate. She was radiating love and affection. Probably, she would have made a great wife and mother.

At some point I became more interested in women with larger breasts. Sure, Poland is the best country in the world if you want to find a busty girlfriend. Like 2 in 3 chicks have amazingly well built tits. Must be genes or the Polish cow-milk.

Agatha had amazing tits. They felt a lot bigger when holding them in my hand compared to the size on the images. Standing behind her and grabbing her by the tits was my favorite sucker move on her. Loved to do that when we came back from the gym and were all sweaty. I loved to eat her out from behind. I kneed down while she was standing. My nose was deep in her crack. My tongue tickled her labia while my fingers reached for her nipples. Awesome memories of her juices dripping down my chin. Guess what, I should have kept her, but for some reason I became addicted to Cuban women. And off I went to Havana.

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