Talking about losing an eye, my mate was on holiday in Ibiza about 30 years ago and he was on his balcony drinking sangria when there was a splash. He checked, and a glass eye had fallen in the jar.
He could hear a woman screaming about 4 floors up, and he shouted up, and the woman said she just lost her eye. It's alright, he said, I've just caught it. Brilliant, she says, bring it up to room 701 (it might have been 703, he was never sure).
Anyway, he takes the eye up and she says thanks, would he like to come in for a drink. She wasn't bad looking, considering having one eye, and he was as rough as a dog himself so he says Aye, sounds good to me.
She pours him a few drinks, then she asks if he's hungry. As always, he was famished, so she got him a bag of pork scratchings and some pickled onions which happens to be his two most favourite food items.
Anyway, after that, she strips off, goes down, gives him a blow job and, like Rydog, she finds it is better to swallow too. My mate can't believe his luck, and he's starting to wonder if he's on Jeremy Beadle or something. "Do you do this for blokes often?" he asks. No, she says, only for the ones that catch my eye.
Thank-you for your patience.