Is this an apartment tour or a gangbang?

I think the hottest thing is Chic-Micki Zurichberg’s aunt. She is wearing Louboutins (very uncomfortable and extremely high), logically a Birkin bag and a beige trench coat from I don’t know which luxury brand.

Her hair is logically long, with blonde streaks, her lips are red, her skin is wrinkled. It’s entirely possible that she spent too much time in the sun with too little sun protection when she was younger.

Let’s call her Karen.

Karen is there with her husband. Probably a chief surgeon. Or CEO of something I don’t know. Or CFO or whatever all the important positions are called. Karen and her husband will of course be there in their Porsche Cayenne.

While Karen’s husband looks around intently, Karen bats her eyelashes. She dances around the man in his mid-fifties who is here today to show us the booth where we are standing. 140 square meters of luxury. Including terrace, shower, bath, induction hob, microwave, steamer, pipe.

Karen praises the man in his mid-fifties for his haircut. And his hands. Then the Cayenne key falls out of her pocket. Karen bends over so that the man in his mid-fifties has a clear view of Karen’s ass, which she has tucked into a pair of leather leggings.

Maybe the man in his mid-fifties would even jump for it if he weren’t so busy. There is another woman who wants to seduce the man. She brought him homemade cookies. With Fleur de Sel. Meanwhile, Cookie Lady’s husband has one “great wine from Tuscany” included.

“In my next life I will also become a real estate agent”Sandro whispers in my ear. MILF hunter, you mean, I say. We laugh.

While Sandro examines the cage, I can’t move. The scenario around the mid-1950s is too good.

Now another party bride has arrived. She combines hold-up stockings with the leather skirt. Which, it should be noted, always lights up completely coincidentally when someone in their mid-fifties watches. The stockings are there with a hardcore tattooed girlfriend. She relies on the bare midriff. They want to live together.

“Do you know”breathe the stockingless Smurfs towards those in their mid-fifties, “We’re an open couple, if you know what we mean.”

I don’t know and would like to ask.

But before I can do anything, Sandro pulls me into the bathroom. “You’re staring”, he says. I know, I answer.

I ask if he wants to live here. No, he says. No, I say. It’s huge and hot, but there’s no way to pull out.

Before we leave, I take a look in the kitchen. The man in his mid-fifties now has to juggle four women. I wonder if we are at an apartment tour, a gangbang or in a dark room.

A few days later, Sandro and I look at another potential apartment. Even in the higher price segment. This time I exchanged holey leggings, boots and hoodie for tight jeans and pumps. My lips are subtly red.

Sandro, meanwhile, forgoes the cigarette he usually puts over his right ear. And he also traded his sweatpants and gym bag for jeans and, I still laugh, a shirt.

We are not the first here. But my eyes fall on a transparent bag with cookies in it. Madame Fleur de Sel is also there. She’s not the only famous face. Karen and her CEO/Surgeon/CFO are also present!

Karen wears 1:1 the same outfit. But this time nothing works.

It’s a woman showing us the apartment. When she sees Sandro, she gets a little worried. “Oh hello”she says. «Salüüü…», he says. He has no idea what her name is. And she also seems to have forgotten his name.

“Emma”I say and hold out my hand to her. “Very cool apartment”I try to relax the somewhat tense situation. “Yes, hihi…”, she says. Before I can ask anything, Karen is there. “Great jeans you are wearing”she says to the apartment guide. «Fits perfectly. But if you were as young and sexy as you, everything would be slow!?”

I think Karen is stupid.

Sandro pulls me away again. “You fucked her, right?”I say and laugh out loud. “Yes”, he says. Somewhere after a home party.

It was really bad sex.

End of story. And end dream house.