Holiday sex or lack of it

I am on annual leave abroad in a warm country, with Norma, my wife. Though we have a good sex life, when I have only her, it is not enough. I am on heat all the time. I have become like a hungry predatory animal. All my senses are alert to the possibility of finding a woman.

Yesterday, I set off to find an internet cafe to connect to my office computer and also to make a posting on this blog, but I didnñt get that far. I was walking towards the internet cafe when I heard British women´s voices. There were three of them in their late 40s or early 50´s sitting at a pavement cafe. Their drinks had hardly been touched and I judged that they would be there for at least another 15 minutes.

I caught only a snippet of converstion, but all I heard was, ´fine for you to talk, you haven´t...´ I didn´t get the rest but I felt in my bones that it was something to do with not having pulled a man. I don´t know why I thought that, but I have a nose for these things.

I looked in a shop window and walked past them again. All wore wedding rings and there were no men with them. One of them was smoking. I dashed to a Tabbac and bought a packet of small cigars. I don´t smoke, but can manage the odd cigar at Christmas. I then took a table adjacent them and continued to listen, but they dropped their voices. That was a good sign. Their conversation was obviously not for public hearing.

I took out a gigar and fumbled through my pockets looking for a lighter that I knew was not there. I called out to the women and asked for a light. One was offered so I got up from my chair. I am feeling so, so horny and threw caution to the wind. ´So, you´ve left they boys at home?´ They said they come away every year, just the three of them.

I said, ´There´s nothing like a holiday fling to brighten up one´s marriage.´ To my delight,´one of them said, ´Well it might be if it happened.´

I will continue this story within a couple of days, because I need to get back to Norma. I am in with a chance with these women, but it looks 50-50 at the moment.

Apology

Forgive the lack of postings. I am on holiday with Norma. I have a broad band dongle to connect my lap top to the internet, but it isn´t working in this part of the world, which means finding internet cafes. That isn´t a problem, but getting into one without Norma is.

It is warm in this part of the world and women don´t wear much clothing. I have been horny as hell. As good as Norma is in bed, I have been so frustrated because I haven´t had my usual varied diet of sex,

I have no idea how to solved the problem.

Again, apologies for the paucity of postings, but things will be back to Normal in a week or so.

Kate sent me a text a couple of days ago. She loves me and can´t stop thinking of me. I´m very fond of her and don´t want to hurt her, but I´m not in love with her. Mind you, I wish I could see her here. She is always up for it.

I´ll try to do a new posting is a couple of days.

Voice and sex appeal

One of my readers tells me she almost never speaks with a man on the phone before meeting. I am the reverse. A woman’s voice tells me almost all I want to know about her. I can judge her temperament, intellect and sensuality. A phone conversation is a prerequisite to meeting. A woman’s voice can make me feel very horny, too, even if she is talking about something unrelated to sex. I can’t count the number of women radio presenters who have turned me on while talking about politics or current affairs. I have wanted so badly to get inside their knickers, even though I haven’t had a clue what they looked like.

On the subject of voice, I am surprised at the number of my lovers who have initiated phone sex with me while they have masturbated. I have the perception that it’s ‘dirty old men’ who phone sex chat lines, but I wonder if women do, too? I haven’t a clue.

I have gone without sex for a few days and am feeling very horny. I need a shag quite badly. Fortunately, I have Norma for the weekend.

Kiss and tell

It is conference season here in the UK for political parties, with the Liberal Democrats in session this week. This has led to a revival of news reports earlier this year that their leader Nick Clegg had slept with no more than 30 women. My wife, Norma, commented on that over dinner last night. She was scathing. ‘Scathing’ isn’t something she does very often, but Mr. Clegg came under fire last night.

At first, I misunderstood Norma’s disdain. I thought she was contemptuous of his boasting, but no, she was attacking his morals. Well, that made me feel a little uncomfortable for a moment. I defended his morals, but said that he was a cad for boasting about it. We disagreed amicably.

It might seem hypocritical that I should tell the world about my sexual exploits through this blog, while at the same time disapproving of Nick Clegg going public about his. There is a difference. I am anonymous which means that no woman is going to get hurt by my revelations. Whether it is men boasting to their friends in the pub, or those who ‘kiss and tell’ whether for cash or not, I view them with contempt. Sexual intimacy, is a wonderful thing and brings individuals as close as they can possibly be. We entrust each other with our emotions, our bodies and souls. Boasting about sexual acts, without the consent of one’s sexual partner is heinous. It might be argued that Nick Clegg didn’t name anyone. Now, supposing you are one of Nick Clegg’s Exes. You just might feel cheapened. Supposing you are one of those women’s mothers, and supposing you have been telling all your friends, ‘Nick Clegg, that nice leader of the Lib Dems used to go out with my daughter,’ then how would you feel now?

As for my activities, my Sunday lay with my air hostess lover didn’t happen. Her husband’s arrangements changed and she couldn’t get out.

Uniforms

There have been few times in my life when I have been too busy for sexual pursuits, but the last few days have been exceptional. I started the week sick and then half my staff have caught the same bug at a time when we are manically busy. I have been working day and night. However, I will be travelling to another part of the country on Sunday for meetings on Monday.

I have booked a hotel for Sunday afternoon, to break the journey and meet up with one of my occasional lovers. To my great relief, she is free. She is a married air hostess and often away working. She is very sexy in uniform. This leads me to ‘uniforms.’

Being a regular reader of ads from women, I am struck by the fact that women often advertise for men in uniform, particularly fire men. I’m also struck by the fact that women who advertise themselves often say that the have uniforms – nurse, school girl etc. I’m not sure if I’m alone, but I do find women’s uniforms sexy at times, but I don’t find them sexy if they are put on for the purpose of being sexy. A woman can put on the white dress of a dental nurse, but unless she is a dental nurse, I don’t find that the garment enhances sex appeal. A woman who puts on uniforms just to look sexy, might as well not bother.

The uniforms I usually find sexy are air hostess, dental nurse, women’s armed forces uniforms, and some bank clerk uniforms. Increasingly, NHS uniforms are being de-sexed, for very good reason. I have an occasional lover who is a nurse. A bin liner is more sexy then her uniform, but the last thing she needs at work is sexual harassment.

Unfortunately, my lover on Sunday won’t be wearing her uniform. I like sex naked, but it is so erotic to have sex with her, up her skirt, almost fully clothed, when she is wearing her uniform.

On a different matter. I have had no response to my e-mail to Anne, the girl I was in love with 50 years ago. The e-mail didn’t bounce so I expect I will get a reply one day. I’ll keep you informed.

Quiet on the Philandering Front

I emailed Anne but haven't had a reply. She has a house in Andalucia and may be there. If I don't get a reply by next week, I'll try snail mail.

Meanwhile, it's been a bit quiet on the philandering front. My business has been manic and I'm short staffed. I'm working away again from tomorrow lunch time and have e-mailed Kate to see if she can manage a brief 'meeting' - a quickie at my house before I set off. Let's see. Apologies that this is so brief - I have a 'normal' life as well.

Sex when you are sick

Apologies for not posting since Friday. I caught a bug and haven’t been feeling too well. I spent more time in bed over the weekend than usual. When I was lying down, I didn’t feel too bad. Norma joined me in bed on Saturday afternoon and we had sex in the scissor position. It meant that I could continue lying down. It’s a great position in any case and gives really deep penetration which is good for both parties. Norma later got on top. That’s a good position, for paying lots of attention to the woman’s breasts. It’s also good when the man isn’t too well. Come to thing of it, apart from those positions which require contortion, they all offer something unique.

On the subject of sickness, I can’t think of a time when I have been too sick not to want sex. A few years’ back I had a temperature of almost 40% and I still had a remarkable stiffie. Norma obliged me, though.

I’m still not fully recovered and am working from home today. I have decided that I will contact Ann and see whether she will agree to meet. Nothing ventured, as they say. I was supposed to be meeting a new potential lover tomorrow, but I’ve postponed it. I’ll keep you posted.

Addicted to sex???

One of my readers confesses to being a sex addict. A few months ago, Lord Laidlaw, Scottish Tory peer, announced that he had the same addiction. I don’t doubt that there can be such a thing, but I have problems with describing someone who likes a lot of sex as an addict. It’s a bit like saying that because I have three meals a day, I’m addicted to food.

I have other problems with the description, too. It turns a love of sex into something negative. I suspect that those who describe themselves as such are trying simply to justify their actions to disapproving others, rather than arguing the case for a rich and varied sex life. I once watched a TV documentary on someone who had a genuine sex addiction, but such people are extremely rare. The man in question could do little else other than masturbate or have sex – not for an hour or two a day, but eight ten or twelve hours every day so that he couldn’t work and had no social life. In my judgment, simply having a number of lovers isn’t addiction but rather a healthy appetite.

Talking of having a healthy appetite, I hadn’t had sex up to today since Monday with the masochist. I was beginning to feel impossibly horny and so I phoned Kate. I’ve been working away and managed to get back home by lunch time and entertained Kate to a quickie in her lunch hour. It’s risky having her at home, but needs must. It will keep me going till tomorrow with Norma…

Shall I try to bed Anne?

What shall I do about Anne? I have wanted to make love to her for 52 years – yes I knew about sex at the age of ten and she was the first girl about whom I fantasized. She was in my class at primary school and stunningly attractive. When our teacher paired us up to do handstands, she was my partner one day. We each took it in turns to do a hand stand while the other caught hold of the legs and supported them. When Ann did the hand stand, her dress fell down over her head and I had a marvelous view of her crotch, where her flimsy cotton knickers barely covered her vulva. Not a lot was left to the imagination.

This was the first object of my fantasy when I started to masturbate at the age of ten or eleven. I was too young to orgasm, but I had many happy hours in bed at the thought of screwing Anne. At the age of 11, we each left to go to different schools, but for the next five years, up to the age of 16, I saw her regularly at the bus stop. She grew lovelier and lovelier. That was the last I saw of her, but when I was 18, I bought a ticket to her school’s 6th form dance, hoping she would be there. She wasn’t, but I met Norma, my wife.

I have never forgotten Anne. It’s sad that an old man like me should carry a torch for a woman he last saw when she was 16. All my life, I have had a deep longing to see her again and if at all possible, to get inside her knickers, but frankly, for starters, a coffee with her would be nice. For years, I tried to locate her and then four years ago, I had a breakthrough. I discovered that she is unmarried and had been divorced since she was 31. She had retired after a distinguished career. Moreover, she lived only 12 miles from me. We exchanged emails and I sent her a copy of my first book, a book that contained some autobiographical components, including a mention of her. She read it and e-mailed me back with considerable enthusiasm.

In most emails, I suggested we might meet for a coffee. She never responded either positively or negatively to the suggestion. I have had no email contact for more than three years, but I wonder if I should have another attempt at meeting her. I guess three years ago I didn’t go all out, because there was a fear that my very deep feelings for Anne could get out of control. I have never been tempted to leave Norma, but if anyone could induce that temptation, it is Anne.

Though I can still recall an image of the 16 year old girl, my mind conjures up a picture of what she will be like now. Last night, for the first time for years, I brought myself to orgasm thinking of her. I want to meet her and I want to bed her, but frankly I don’t know whether I should make the attempt.

Parisien Sex

A couple of years ago, I was at a conference in Paris. I always feel extra horny when I am away from home, and had been on the look-out for a woman since my arrival, but without success. On my final evening, I was enjoying an aperitif at a pavement café, near the funicular which goes up to Sacre Coeur. There weren’t many seats available and I was sharing a table with two women.

I always buy French newspapers when in France, but today, I wanted to be noticed as a Brit. I had a copy of my favourite broadsheet with me. This led to one of the women asking if I was on holiday. There was then a wide ranging conversation, but I raised the topic of rivalry between UK and France. I steered the conversation and hoped they would ask me what I thought about the French. They did. I replied, j’adore les Française: I dodged the matter of what I think about the French in general, but used the female form and said that I love French women - les Française and added, ‘Elles sont si chic.’ They laughed and said, ‘So you like French women.’ I replied that it is my only reason for coming to Paris.

It was time to eat so I invited them to join me. One of them declined and had to be going. The other, a dark-haired woman in her early 40’s accepted, so we stayed at the same table and ordered food. In a previous posting, I mentioned that my approach with women is incremental. I paid her compliments about her eyes. Then I touched her hand. Before long, we were holding hands across the table – it’s always part of the seduction process for me. At the end of the meal, it started to rain. There was an awning, but the rain was blowing underneath it, so we ran the 200 yards to the bar in my hotel.

There came a point where I had to be more direct, so I told her that I wanted very much to kiss her. She asked me what was stopping me. Lack of privacy, I said. We went to my room. I never travel without condoms and they were put to good use that night. Sex is usually delicious for me, but that evening with Gille was truly wonderful. She was slim, with beautiful breasts and a forest of black pubic hair. I still have a vivid image of sex with her in a number of positions. Unlike Wendy in San Francisco, I did get her contact details, but alas she now has a new man and doesn’t want to cheat on him. I’ve been back to Paris since, but my luck wasn’t repeated.

Sex with the Shy

My date for Thursday afternoon has backed off. She tells me it’s because of nerves. I have no reason to disbelieve her. All along, she has told me that she is very shy at first and that I may have to be patient with her.

I need to preface postings by making clear that when I write, ‘many women’ or ‘often’, I simply mean in my experience. The sample of women I have encountered is tiny and therefore I may be statistically wrong. So, here goes:

Many women have a longing to have sex with men who aren’t their husbands, but that longing is counterbalanced by nervousness. The nervousness can be in relation to their own morals or a fear of being found out or of meeting with a Mr Hyde. Before the days of the internet, I had arranged to meet the wife of a senior police officer at a certain motorway services. I hadn’t seen her picture, but I knew that she would be wearing a blue and white dress, black shoes and carrying a black hand bag. She told me that she had shoulder length blonde hair, was a size 12, and was aged 35, I was carrying a copy of my favourite broad sheet.

We agreed to meet at the main entrance to the building where the shops and cafes were. At precisely noon, the time agreed, a woman of her description walked towards me, but then her eyes averted and she walked straight past. I smiled and tried to catch he eye. Was that the woman I had arranged to meet or was her appearance a co-incidence? She certainly didn’t turned up. I wondered if it was the woman and if, having seen me, didn’t fancy me.

Next day, I received a letter in a brown business envelope – the type I have always asked my lovers to use when writing, in order not to raise suspicion at home. The letter was an apology. The woman I had seen was her, but she had had a sudden bout of nerves. She asked for another chance. We met next day and got off to a quick start, making love in my car. She became a regular visitor to my office when the staff had gone home. I have delicious memories of her bending over my desk and being taken from behind, as well as on top of the desk and on the floor. I would never have guessed from my early disappointment just how horny she could be.

So, many women have deep desires to be unfaithful, but are limited by their inhibitions. I count myself fortunate to have been part of their liberation. A gentle, patient approach is needed. Let’s see if I can meet Thursday’s cancelled date on another occasion.

Rough sex

Pick up in Paris will be told another day. I have just returned from an assignation with a woman who wanted rough sex. We got to the hotel at lunch time and I have to say, this one beat me.

I have engaged in mild domination in the past, but today I performed badly. Well, at least not to my satisfaction. From the text I’ve just received, she was delighted, but I got little from it. Even worse, there were things that churned my stomach.

She had asked me to rough handle her, tie her to the bed and ‘rape’ her. Well, it was a game and I had no problems with the concept. She was an attractive girl much younger than me, but she repeatedly asked me to hit her. I slapped her, but she kept saying it wasn’t hard enough. I just could not bring myself to hit her as hard as she wanted.

She also asked for her nipples to be bitten. Again, she kept screaming, ‘harder’. There came a point I felt sick. I could not bring myself to bite any harder. I had penetrated her fully and was having sex while she was making the demands to bite and hit harder. It really spoilt the fun. I still feel nauseous at the memory.

On Thursday, I have a ‘vanilla’ engagement. I can’t wait for it. Hopefully, it will expunge the memory of today