Intense Intents. In Tents

We’ve just enjoyed the hottest weekend of the year so far and, as luck would have it, it was our turn to have Saturday off. So there was no question but that we should get out of town just as soon as we could on Friday night and spend the whole weekend at the summerhouse.

Saturday afternoon, while we were enjoying a late lunch and a cold beer, looking out over the deep blue of the sea from our patio, when a naughty little idea crept into my head…

Now, making love in the afternoon in our little bedroom there is fine. The house is a cool sancuary from the blast-furnace heat outside and the sumlight coming through the window is filtered by the trees outside producing dappled patterns of light and shadow on our naked bodies as we lie side by side. But, the thought struck me that I have never actually had sex in a tent before. I can’t speak for Heather and she’s not minded to let on but as we have a couple of family-sized tents down there and an inflatable mattress I thought we could give it a go.

Heather was lying on the sunbed in her swimsuit, straps pushed waaaay off her shoulders and reading a book while I put up the tent. To her credit she didn’t make any ’Carry On’-type comments like asking if I was having difficulty getting it up, or offering to help with my erection, and in a short while it was ready and I was lying on the airbed inside, waiting for her. It was supposed to be a four-person tent and I suppose it could sleep four… if they were very good friends. But it was just the right size for what we had in mind.

It was hot inside the tent, hotter than I had expected, and when Heather joined me and peeled off her swimsuit it got hotter still. It was like a mini-sauna as we lay side by side with sweat gathering in every crevice. We had zipped up the doors to start with, so that we were isolated inside our little bubble, but with the sounds of outside coming in; the cry of the seagulls, the shrieks of the kids enjoying themselves on the beach, someone mowing his lawn. Eventually, however, we were forced to roll up the entrance flaps to let what little breeze there was caress our perspiring bodies. It also gave us a view out, although with the disadvantage that anyone coming up the path to our property on a surprise visit would have had more of a surprise than they had bargained for.

We held each other close and kissed, our skin sticking to each other so we had to peel ourselves apart carefully. I climbed on top of her and entered her straight away: she needed no preparation, she was already soaking wet. This was no time for energetic feats of gymnastics, it was simply too hot. I just pleasured myself gently in her body and looked into her face gazing lovingly back up at me.

I rolled off her and knelt up beside her to pleasure her a little with my fingers. Her orgasm was sharp and sudden and took me by surprise, and afterwards she lay with her back to me and I entered her again, slowly and gently. But I really wanted to come while looking into those lovely eyes, so I had her roll onto her back again and she willingly parted her legs for me in that beautiful gesture of giving.

We left the tent up overnight. I, at least, wanted more.

Sunday afternoon was just as hot just and cloudless. We held our little rendezvous in the tent as before but this time I had the camera with me. I had an idea for some pictures suitable for ’Half Nekkid Thursday’ and ended up with a few that were definitely UNsuitable for anything other than private viewing. We were also bolder: Fucking doggy-style in the doorway. Hidden from public gaze but right in-yer-face for anyone (like Heather’s mother for example) who might take the shortcut from the coast path, between the thick cover of the wild roses onto our property. But that just added to the excitement. What would she do anyway? Does she seriously belive we don’t have sex? Maybe she did see us and turned away again without saying anything. Who knows, or even cares?

Heather went to fetch cold beer and fruit juice and we lay in our little capsule, making plans, touching each other gently and listening to the sounds of the seaside, enjoying the scent of honeysuckle and wild roses and pine trees wafting on the breeze.

It was a most welcome time-out in the middle of the day, when it was too hot to do anything else. We’re looking forward to a long, hot summer.

The view out from the tent, featuring a special guest appearance by FC's size 12's

Missing You

In less than three weeks time, we’ll have Daughter home again after her year in Brazil. You can tell just how sad and homesick she is from the way she pours out her heart in the long, emotional e-mails she sends to us.

Here’s this morning’s offering:

Hey guys :D

got back safely from Belo Horizonte, and had a great time.

About going to Germany, It´s gonna be Frankfurt or real near. In the beginning of August, but don´t worry, I´ll be back in time to start school.

that’s it i think...

Lots of love (daughter) xxxx

See what I mean? She’s not even home yet and she’s already planning on taking herself off down to Frankfurt to meet up with some boy(-friend?) from NYC who she met out in Brazil, and who is on a tour round Europe in August with his parents.

Having got the taste for adventure I think it’s going to be difficult keeping her home for long enough to finish school!

Sugasm #168

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #169? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Covet
“My mouth waters at the sheer beauty.”

Lilly’s Turn - Part 3: Wherein Lust, Greed and Risk Intersect
“She was biting her lip to prevent herself from making a sound.”

Oh Dirty Girl
“It was at that moment that I knew I needed him to take me and take me dirty.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Porn’s 2009 AIDs Outbreak

Sugasm Editor
Review: Why Just Her

Editor’s Choice
My very first HNT!

More SugasmJoin the Sugasm

Erotic Writing & Experiences
He Can Use Me All Night – Part Two, Yet Another Hotel
Hump Day Poetry
I Can’t Get No Contraception - Part 2
Just fucking.
Keeping It Simple
Tedious Training
Wet dream at the airport-part2

News, Reviews & Interviews
20 Questions with Satine Phoenix
Favorite Jeans -HNT
Girly HNT.
Glow Plugs and the Kegel8 Effect
I’m unemployed and I live with my parents
Protection and Promiscuity

Sex Advice
Congrats! You are the new proud owner of some Sexy Lingerie!
Pompoir: The Art of Milking the Lingam
The truth about female ejaculation

BDSM & Fetish
Breed Sex Part 1: They Want to Cum in You.
Daddy Spanked Me
Darklady’s 9th Annual Masturbate-a-Thon - The Solo Sex Circus
High School Bully Part 3
Humiliation
Imprint
A Kiss Goodbye
Meeting a Domme
Le 6 janvier…L’histoire!…My version

NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
Bent in the chair for harsh punishment
Cikita
Lindsay Lohan Topless Twitter Picture
Liv - Pure Perfection
Nude at daylight
Teen girl bending over for some harsh cane stripes
Touched

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Eagerness & Blow Jobs – Lessons Learned From Gay and Bi Men
Faking Orgasms How it feels for a girl
On Love, Loss and Taking Risks

Roll On Closing Time

Heather and I were walking down the length of the shop his morning, me a few paces behind her. My eyes were drawn irresistibly to her bottom, the way the slightly stretchy fabric of her tight black trousers enhanced her gorgeous curves as she walked.

“Less than nine hours ago” I told myself. “You were in between them, lying on your side and resting your head on her inner thigh, having your balls licked and kissed while you pressed your face into her and lapped at her cunt”.

I closed my eyes and smiled at that memory, then imagined myself throwing her down on one of the counters and fucking her right there and then in the middle of the shop. It was a tempting thought.

It’s thoughts like those that help keep me going through the day.

As Good As It Gets

I mean that in the most positive way possible: Yesterday was the longest day. Although we hopefully still have a good deal of summer still to come, the days are now as long and the nights as light as they are going to get.

I was sitting out on the lawn under a cloudless sky yesterday morning, drinking Earl Grey tea and wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a panama hat, basking in the hot sun. I had just experienced a lovemaking session where I was spread out and gripping the edges of the mattress whille Heather rode me to an orgasm that had me screaming like a girl and left me shaking for a good while after. I was pervaded with a sense of well-being. All our problems seem to have melted away at the moment, at least temporarily. We are up to date with customer orders, the same with the book keeping. The long-running problem with the drains at the summerhouse has now been fixed professionally and for good, so we can live down there and have guests to stay without fear of the toilet blocking up every five minutes.

The same feeling of well-being came over me again in the evening, a little after 11pm. We were just about to go home, but were standing in the twilight stillness admiring the colours of the sunset and the mirror-like calmness of the ocean, satisfied after a day of relaxation, a bit of garden tidying and a fine supper which culminated in the inevitable strawberries and cream.

This really is as good as it gets.

Just A Quickie

The good news was that last night we pretty much got up to date with our backlog of customer orders and bookkeeping.

The bad news was that this resulted in another late night: It was well after 1am before we tumbled into bed..

She was cold and she pressed her soft body up against mine, while I tried to wrap myself around her as best I could. Sex was not really on my mind. It was late and we were both tired. It was enough, I told myself, to mould my body to hers, cup her soft breasts in my hands and rest my head on her neck.

But sleep did not come. After half an hour we were both still awake.

”Do you want a ’Fakta Fuck’?” She murmered. That’s our name for a quickie. (See the explanation here).

This is normally her cue to get up on all fours and just let me fuck her from behind, and owe her an ’O’ till another time. But I owe a lot of O’s at the moment and I don’t really want to get deeper into debt. I rolled her towards me, framed her face in in my hands and kissed her deeply, then nibbled at her lips as she nibbled at mine.

I shifted down to reach between her legs and check for wetness, and suckled on her breast at the same time. She reached up and pinched one of my nipples. Hard. I let out a sort of squeak of surprise, I’m not used to her hurting me, though. I think I could get used to it. I was already hard; I got harder. I felt I just had to get inside her and it had to be now. I climbed on top of her and gave her ten hard strokes, intending to pull out again, but it just felt so good that I gave her ten more, then knelt up beside her again.

She reached down and took charge of my stiff cock, slimy now with her juices. I wouldn’t have objected at all if she had taken it in her mouth, but I wasn’t going to force the issue. Instead she was reaching up with her free hand, trying to catch hold of my nipple. I leaned forward to let her as I pinched and twisted hers and she moaned and gasped as she inched towards her orgasnm.

But I just couldn’t tip her over the edge. She was tense and she just didn’t seem to be able to let go. I broke off from the clit massage and tit-torture and fucked her hard once more, stopping just short of coming myself. Again I knelt beside her, working her clit every way I knew how while she pulled and wrung my cock until I thought the easiest would be just to let go and come over her belly and breasts, but I hung in, inching her painfully slowly towards her release. Time after time her ever-more urgent cries would end in a deep exhalation, only to leave her on an even higher plateau. There seemed no limit to the amount of pain she could absorb in her nipples as I pulled and twisted them. It was I who was reaching my limit as to how far I was prepared to go in the pursuit of her elusive orgasm. I let go of her niples and clutched at her throat instead. Not hard, just enough so that she could feel my hand there. It was enough. She gave one last despairing cry and then went limp as she dissolved into convulsive sobbing. It was like a dam bursting as the tears came in floods, releasing the tensions of a stressful week or two.

We’ve had a fair deal to cope with, both business-wise and with ill-health in the family just recently,, but Heather has borne it all with no signs of what she was feeling inside. As I held her against my chest and she soaked it in her tears I whispered to her:

”If I had known you were so stressed I’d have stretched you out in the doorway and whipped it out of you”

She nodded dumbly and I held her even closer.

Sometimes when she comes like this I turn her over and ram her hard from behind while the tears are still falling, in a hard, selfish fuck that exploits her vulnerability. But not tonight. I was disturbed at how much pain she had been apparently carrying around, without my noticing. I waited until the tears had subsided, wiped her cheeks as best I could and, still holding her closely, entered her as tenderly as I knew how. It didn’t take long, our bodies pressed up together and moving in harmony, her warmth and the taste of salt on her face brought me to my climax in a matter of minutes. I had no wish to prolong matters, all she really needed was to sleep.

And sleep we did. It wasn’t quite the quickie we had planned but it was worth it for the release of tension and the deep, refreshing sleep that it brought.

Short And Sweet

That pretty much describes the strawberry season over here. The soil here is very light and sandy; ideal for strawberry-growing, but because the growing season is very short there are just a few glorious weeks in the summer when the supermarkets are flooded with plump, sweet, succulent home-grown strawerries, deep red in colour and so sweet that just one punnet of them can fill a room with their fragrance. It is a case of enjoying it while it lasts and during this short time we eat strawberries just about every day.

So it was off to the summerhouse we went at the weekend with a ton of fresh strawberries and a bucketful of cream. I maintain that the best way to enjoy strawberries is with a bottle of chilled chablis, on a blanket, under the stars, naked, in the middle of our lawn. I would go as far as to say that the very shape of a strawberry lends itself to being held by the stalk and dipped gently between two swollen labia so as to pick up a thick coating of juices to counterpoint the slight sharpness of the fruit. It seems to have been designed with that particular part of a woman’s anatomy in mind.

Unfortunately, despite the fact that the sky was absolutely cloudless, it was also very windy and quite cold for the entire weekend, so our clothing-free activities were perforce confined to indoors. We’re just going to have to save those particular pleasures until later.

We had watched a DVD until quite late on Saturday night and were just about to go through to the bedroom but I did a little bit of channel-hopping first and discovered, on the minority-interest ’intellectual’ channel, a show called ’The L-Word’. I had never seen that before, why didn’t anybody tell me about it? I was glued to the TV for another hour.

At 2.30 am I took a last walk down to the edge of our plot. The entire northern sky was ablaze with colour. Blood red at the horizon to deepest blue-black at the zenith, with the silvery reflection of the moon on the water over my right shoulder. Already it was getting lighter and birds were starting to sing. Heather had joined me and we walked back to the house hand in hand to make love to the sound of the dawn chorus.

I woke late with the sun streaming into the small bedroom and with the smell of bread rolls warming in the oven. Heather had risen before me and was reclining on the sofa, reading a magazine. I stood behind her and brushed her cheek with my stiff cock, which she took and stroked while I ticked her behind her ear. However, I couldn’t persuade her to come back into the bedroom with me. At least, not until we’d had breakfast.

It was a little cold back in the bedroom to start with, so we held each other close under the duvet. Me playing with her nipples, she playing with mine. Suddenly Heather was overtaken by one of her ’middle-age moments’ and her skin turned from cool to clammy in a matter of seconds. As she kicked the duvet off her I reached down between her flailing legs to find that little well of moistness, dabble my fingers in it and draw it up to make her hard little clit slippery. As I knelt up beside her she craned her head towards me and captured my cock between her lips. I cradled her head, encouraging – not pushing – her to take me deeper, and reached round until I had grasped the back of her neck and pincered it between finger and thumb. Judging by the muffled yells emanating from a mouth that was stuffed full, this had the desired effect and before very long her legs had gone stiff and I was just barely brushing her clit with my fingertip while she shouted out her orgasm into my groin.

”Why don’t you turn over” I said to the exhausted, happy heap that was lying at my knees. Obediently she rolled over and knelt up, presenting her lovely rounded buttocks to caress, her little puckered arsehole to fantasise about for later, and her glorious parted, distended cunt lips, glistening wet, fragrant and inviting, to enjoy myself between. I knelt up behind her, one foot flat on the bed beside her, crossed my hands across the concave curve of the small of her back and took my pleasure in her with powerful strokes which had her gasping all over again.

We spent the whole day at our summerhouse, cooking and eating supper there so that we could delay our departure as much as possible. We reluctantly left for home around 10 and agreed that although there were things we could be getting on with in the office, as there invariably are, we would try to get to bed early.

”Of course, we don’t have to go to sleep straight away” I said.

”Of course not. I never said that” she replied.

So it was actually quite late when I finally fell asleep with a smile, and the sweet taste of her, all over my face...

Sugasm #167

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #168? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form.

This Week’s Picks
Every Time You Orgasm, An Angel Gets Its Wings“There is nothing that screams “fuck you” to the pain and the hurt in the world than screaming “fuck me” to the person in your bed.”

HNT: Spanked“I wasn’t sure how I felt about him. But tonight, I was sure.”

A Thousand Kisses“This wasn’t enough. I knew that I had to try something else.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Congratulations, you’re invited!

Sugasm Editor
Sex Work And Honesty: Religion

Editor’s Choice
Food, fun and commitment

More SugasmJoin the Sugasm

NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
Chloe
HNT
Love HNT Part II
So Many Stripes
Valentina Vaughn
Video Q&A #1

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Dementor
Fat Ass Betty
Full Circle
Going where no one has gone before

Sex Humor
Adventures in Craigslist (and a belated HNT)

Erotic Writing & Experiences
Ass-tute
Conversations about Crossdressing (Early Morning Version)
A Feast of Cock
Gender Fuck
Her Favorite Positions - The Conclusion
I Can’t Get No…Contraception
Lessons from an Orgy
Lilly’s Turn - Part 2: Wherein One Good Turn Deserves Another
Mirrors
Must be the weather…New Perspective
Party.
Picture of Propriety
Playing with Dolls
Please don’t book me ever again
The Poet Surrenders
Rebirth In An Orgy
The Synestheatre
Wet dream at the airport-part1
A Wicked Birthday Bang

BDSM & Fetish
Bending over for some harsh cane stripes
Digging a hole, is that the way you treat me
Lick me
Preparing for Punishment: part one
Puppy’s first visit
A Salute to Masturbation May
SF Treat
Subs: How to NOT Apply
That Look
Thoughts about the play party and Femdom.
Under 40 ~ The New Kinky Bar
What Kind of Submissive Are You?

Sex Advice
How to be bisexual on the internet
How to Give a Tantric Breast Massage
Sometimes You Need A Break…

News, Reviews & Interviews
It’s Good to be the Intern
Kink Interview: Thomas’s Spanking Exploits
LELO Luna Beads: Because You Deserve Them
Product Review: Intimate Organics Energizing Fresh Orange & Wild Ginger Foot Foreplay Lotion
Top 5 Tuesday - Sun, Sand and Smut!

I Can't Get No Contraception. Part 2

(Continued from here)

As mentioned previously, we didn't use condoms to start with. They were a little tricky to obtain, or maybe that was just what I was telling myself as an excuse. If I am honest with myself, the action of going out of my way to buy them constituted 'intent' and that seemed to me to be worse than telling myself that sex 'just happened' on the spur of the moment, hung-up and guilt-ridden as I still was.

So it was without protection that I took my first ventures into her luscious fragrant hole. Dipping into it, luxuriating there for just a few seconds of bliss before pulling out and finishing myself off over her full breasts became the routine. It was only when her period first came round I was able to enjoy full-on penetrative sex with her, and it was like an epiphany. I wanted more of this and with time I began to take more and more risks; pulling out later and later, coming inside her for more days of her period. I looked forward to her periods, not knowing the discomfort they were causing her. I became an expert in that game called ”Hunt the little blue string”.

And then, one month… She was late. She was never late, never had been, or so she told me. You could set a clock by her monthly cycle. But she was late nonetheless.

Just late enough to make us both reflect on the upheaval that a pregnancy would cause for both of us just then. It turned out that the arrival of Auntie Flo had just been delayed by a few days by a bout of ’flu. We breathed a collective sigh of relief and carried on, more carefully than before. I started to experiment with another crude form of contraception: Anal sex.

I had discovered early on that a little finger, drenched in her generous juices, was a most welcome occasional visitor in her arse. I had sometimes bitten my fingernails right down so as to be allowed to probe her further. The shackles of my upbringing were already being cast aside one by one. I was convinced I was going to hell anyway so what was another sin to add to the list?

Heather was no stranger to anal. She had tried it back home as a teenager. Fortunately, her first experience was at the hands of someone who knew what he was doing, he had been gentle with her and she had not been scared off for good. As a consequence I didn’t have to persuade her to let me try; it was something we explored together. I shall always be grateful to that unnamed person.

For the rest of the university year we slept together pretty much every night, sharing a narrow bed, barely wide enough for one, sharing coursework assignments, sharing wet Saturday afternoons, sharing the thrill of mutual masturbation, the illicit joy of anal and, once a month, the treat of full-on penetrative sex.

The next academic year would would see us setting up home together in North London, with the freedom which that would bring, not least the freedom which comes with ’proper’ contraception.

(To be continued)


Disclaimer. This was 1977: Clearly, unprotected anal sex is a bloody silly thing to do unless you are able to trust your partner(s) absolutely, and is in no way recommended as a means of contraception!

Old Joke Revisited - Again

Four Sheets To The Wind In Copenhagen*

Well that was a fun weekend. One of our major suppliers invited us, and about 30 others from all over the country (plus one from Iceland) to a weekend in Copenhagen. We were to see a show in the famous Tivoli Gardens, followed by a meal in one of the finest restaurants in town on Saturday, then a product presentation and some marketing talk on the Sunday. However, knowing the two sales directors as we do, there was certain to be drink involved…

We were to meet in the hotel bar at three. Check-in at the hotel was from two onwards and we were in good time. We took the 11 o’clock flight to Copenhagen, caught the Metro into town and had a beer and a bite to eat on ’Nyhavn’, the harbour area which teems with pavement cafes and street entertainment.



Then we took a leisurely walk along ’Strøget’ the famous pedestrian street, which still gave us plenty of time to get checked in, so we could unpack and freshen up and still have time for a quick fuck if we were lucky.

We were unlucky. The rooms weren’t ready at two but the party was already starting in the bar. In the following 14 hours there would be a drink in front of us all the time, except when we were in the theatre.

I started to take stock of the surroundings: Erotic photos on the wall (all very tasteful, though), an outside terrace with divans and giant two-, three- or four-person bean-bags. This wallpaper around the bar.



And a communal ladies/gents toilets which boasted a round terazzo wash basin in the middle of the room and, the first time I have ever seen such a thing, a sex-toy vending machine with a selection of dildoes, cock rings, ticklers, anal beads and nipple clamps. I had the distinct impression that this was little more than a high-class knocking-shop.








Click for a bigger picture if you want!



By the time we finally got our rooms there was only just enough time to wash and change before we set off for Tivoli on foot, just across the town hall square. We arrived in good time for the variety show we were to see so a closed-off section of a nearby cafeteria was commandeered and more drinks were brought forth. Again, after the performance, taxis had been ordered to take us to the restaurant where we were going to dine that evening, but we had about 40 minutes in hand, so back to the bar we went for beer and grappa.

The restaurant was superb. From the white asparagus mousse with tiny cubes of smoked ham and croutons, to the venison with foie gras, truffles and field mushrooms, to the white chocolate panna cotta. Six courses of culinary bliss with a different wine for each course.

Then, by way of contrast, and because the night was still young, we walked a couple of blocks and tried a couple of scruffy bars, looking for one with a bit of life, until we squeezed into one where a guitarist was performing. We eventually found seats for us all and, fuelled by our increasing beer consumption, were joining in all the songs at full volume whether we remembered the words or not. Drink was taken, as were embarrassing photographs.

The bar closed at 2am, ridiculously early to my way of thinking. Fortunately there were cycle taxis on hand to convey us to ’Copenhagen’s number one night spot’. If you have never tried it, I can heartily recommend this as a way of getting from a to b when you’re drunk. You sit in a little carrier in front of the driver with your bum almost scraping the ground and go tearing around at breakneck speed through the crowds of people. I thought the bell was a little bit inadequate as a warning when weaving in and out of groups of revellers lurching into your path, so I took to yelling ”DAKKKADAKKKADAKKKADAKKKKA!” just as we seemed to be about to run them down.

So for the first time in years, Mr and Mrs Controller went CLUBBING! And it was brilliant! We didn’t get back to the hotel until first light. I stripped off as soon as we got in the room and threw myself down on the bed. Heather went into the bathroom and when she got out, undressed, I was spread out across the bed in a big X. She started at the foot of the bed and slithered her way up me like a snake until my cock just popped into her mouth. It slowly got hard and, surprisingly given the state of me, it stayed hard. I don’t remember too much detail but it all ended with her crouching on the bed with her bum jutting out off the end and me standing behind her ramming her so that the breath was coming out of her in little staccato cries.

We made it down to breakfast that morning. Just. We had also plenty of time after the meeting that morning to explore Copenhagen. However, I was so shattered that I could quite happily have slept until we had to go to the airport. I should have asked if the hotel rented out rooms by the hour.

They probably did.




Almost forgot the obligatory picture of our JBFI hotel bed!




*A virtual prize to the first person to identify where that quote comes from.

Equal Rights For Royals?

By 1953 the King of Denmark, Frederik IX, had fathered three daughters and it was becoming increasingly obvious that he would not be able to produce a son to inherit the throne. This was a problem because under the constitution of the time, no woman could accede to the throne, so without a change in the law, which required a national referendum, the royal line would pass to the King’s younger brother, Prince Knud.

A referendum was held in 1953 which the enabled an amendment to the constitution, allowing daughters of the reigning monarch to accede to the throne provided there was no male heir. Thus a younger brother would have precedence over any female. In the event there was none, the King’s eldest daughter, Margrethe, became Queen upon his death in 1972 and has been an immensely popular and successful monarch ever since.

Finally someone has decided that now is the time to vote on the constitution again, on the revolutionary proposal that there should be equality between men and women in the succession to the throne as there is in every other layer of Danish society, so that the monarch’s first born child is automatically the heir to the throne, regardless of gender.

In a way this is none of my business. I don’t get a vote as I am not a Danish citizen, but wake up people! This is the 21st century, in one of the most enlightened lands in the world when it comes to equality of opportunity. Where every woman is entitled to 50 weeks maternity leave paid for by the state, and fathers are also entitled to paid paternity leave, where there is state childcare available to all who want it and where there is a government ministry whose sole responsibility is to safeguard equality of opportunity.

This ought to be a no-brainer. Why is the subject even up for debate?

Favourite Colours

Having just had a bank-holiday weekend, and with fine weather to boot, we were able to get down to the summerhouse and enjoy some of my favourite colours...


Blue for the sea...



...and of course the sky



Yellow for the sand



Green for the grass



And not forgetting my favourite shade of green...

I Can't Get No....Contraception.

(With apologies to The Rolling Stones).

That first night I spent with Heather, the first of ten thousand or more, made me realise that I never wanted to spend a night alone again. That warmth and closeness, the feel and smell of another human being right there next to me all night long until I woke to find her still there the next day was something I had never before experienced in my 20 years.

The sex came later. I had slept with my underpants on that first night. I’m not quite sure why. I was certainly shy, repressed, inexperienced and unsure of myself. My church upbringing had warned me of the dire onsequences of just this type of thing and not taking all my clothes off was maybe symbolic of not going all the way.

Heather could have taken matters into her own hands, dragged them off me and taught me all I needed to know there and then: She certainly had the experience which I lacked. She could have laughed in my face or taken offence at me not grabbing with both hands the golden opportunity she was presenting so freely to me. She did none of those things. She was gentle and patient and she didn’t rush things. She slept in her knickers as well that night. We kissed and cuddled, she let me explore her, let me feel what it was like to be explored and we masturbated each other.

We spent long rainy Saturday afternoons, that autumn of 1977, slowly discovering more and more about each other. Because my background had made me somewhat reticent and because contraception was something of a problem, actual vaginal penetrative sex was only a small part of our relationship, so we explored a whole range of other experiences besides. Things that many other couples perhaps only arrive at much further into a relationship but which for us have been an integral part of our love play right from the very start. Like fisting, for example. Like anal. Not so much oral, strangely. Whereas I quickly discovered the delights of tasting her moist, fragrant cunt, I hope Heather will forgive me if I say that giving oral was not her favourite activity back then.

Heather wasn’t on the pill at the time. She explained that she didn’t dare while she was living at home because she knew that however well she hid them her mother would be sure to find them and that would inevitably lead to a huge row. Yet another huge row. How she managed to avoid getting pregnant before she came to England is something of a mystery. In any case, she hadn’t left her home town to become embroiled in a relationship. Quite the reverse. The previous couple of years had seen her school grades slide in inverse proportion to her interest in the local boys and she didn’t want that to happen while at university.

Condoms were available of course, although not as widely as they are now. These were the days pre-HIV, and when chlamydia was something we learned about in Pathology classes but were never likely to encounter, so 'safe sex' as we now know it simply wasn't an issue. Our hall of residence was right in the heart of the City of London, so there were no convenient pubs or shops nearby. There was a Durex machine in the toilets at the hall, built like a tank and covered in hilarious graffitti such as ”Buy me and stop one”, ”This chewing gum tastes funny” and, beneath the logo declaring the contents to conform to British Standard 3704, the inscription: ”So was the Titanic”. Problem was that the thing was so noisy that you could hear the drawer being yanked out and slammed shut way down the corridor. It was the thought of being discovered in the act by a fellow member of The Christian Union that kept me well away from that machine...








(To be continued)