Just look and appreciate Dana’s magnificent breasts, and take it from me, they’re even more impressive when I’m gazing at them while she’s kneeling between my two open naked thighs, me reclined into a soft clean towel outstretch on a comfy bed, her warm fingers curled around my erection as she masturbates me with (amazing) skills honed from servicing hundreds of male clients… lovely lady as well, amusing to chat with, beautiful and blessed with a beaming smile that would melt the icy coldest of hearts, yes she’s gone from my life but at least I have happy memories to cheer me up when I’m feeling sad and anxious 😦 .
I’m upset I mean REALLY upset! My gorgeous masseuse has returned back home to Romania.
To begin with, a week or so ago Dana’s website disappeared (not her real name btw) and now I know for certain she’s no longer massaging clients for a living because her mobile number neither accepts texts or calls………….yep I’d guess this lovely lady, a migrant worker earning money to buy her own home in Romania, aware Oxford’s R rate is rising has now left our shores for home and (big sigh) who can blame her.
Jeeze massaging male customers not forgetting the gorgeous happy ending is a high risk occupation, no an illegal occupation during a pandemic, and goes without saying touching a male client with coroner virus she’ll catch this awful disease and infect every client thereafter. But hold on! Covid-19 is asymptotically spread so surely if Dana and I wore face masks, the only proven way to break the transmission cycle, our intimate afternoons together would be safe?
I think so, and here’s a sobering statistic for you, yesterday afternoon at work we had the radio on listening to yet another doom and gloom covid story, apparently the Oxford drug trials have been suspended because one patient displayed unexpected symptoms, sad news but this expert went on to say 88% of those dying from covid-19 are seniors! Perhaps the time has come to accept mother nature has decided human beings are living to long, all four of my Grandparents lived well into their 80s to end their days living in depressing care-homes, breaking our hearts as their mental faculties waned to the point they hardly recognised sons daughters and Grandchildren. Give me the choice between dying a swift covid death or ending my days confined to a small room with only a bed and comfy chair for personal possessions, only meal times to look forward to and awful television to keep me company………… I’m actually truly hoping I’ll end my days as yet another daily coroner virus statistic.
Hmm I wonder where life’s journey will take lovely Dana? I guess I’ll never know.
I’m unsure how many people regularly read this WordPress anymore, lol I used to be quite popular (it’s all relative)but then I broke thegolden blog rulewhich as we all know IS to Post ‘regularly and often’ (or is that fellatio?) Anyways not to worry I enjoy the creative process 🙂 .
I’m an impulsive sort of man, in the past I’ve chatted to a woman I hardly know online, then afternoon the following day we’re to be found f****** in a budget priced Motel bedroom….. however I’ve written those postings. Spontaneity acting without forethought could be regarded a lazy way to organise your life, carefree or reckless even, well late Thursday evening I was surfing booking.com’s webpages looking at Hotel accommodation whilst feeling an irresistible urge to visit somewhere anywhere! So after 3 months lockdown then 6 weeks unbroken work, I booked myself into a London Hotel for several nights, paid a non refundable £ by credit card soon followed by a confirmation email with the upshot being tomorrow night I’ll be sleeping in a quality Hotel bedroom (prices are unbelievably cheap at the moment)……….. fantastic!
Then I put myself to bed.
Next morning the first thought on my mind was ‘pandemic’ closely followed by ‘oh s*** the virus R rate (?) is on the increase again’ or so the media keep telling us! Move along several hours later after having consumed several mugs of mint infused tea, and calmed my frayed nerves reading the Hotel’s covid-19 precautions they’ve taken, I thought why not just go and have myself a short break in London.
(Walking across the common I overheard a woman talking to a friend “we took the kids to the Cotswold Wildlife Park and it was packed…. after a while it’s impossible to socially distance so we gave up” In other words ‘what will be will be’.)
I guess with the World gripped by a disease we’re all desperately trying to avoid catching, as highly infectious as the common cold (then again that’s another coroner), I’ve done my best however throughout Government enforced solitary confinement I’ve increasingly been asking myself “am I earning to live? Or just living to exist?”
(A wise old colleague told me that one.)
I’m not a fatalist but I have come round to thinking I’ve read far tooo many scare stories this past four months………. first the Government says avoid public transport! This past six weeks I’ve been travelling to and from Oxford for work and still here to live to tell the tale, I wear a mask, socially distance ‘Try to’ avoid touching my face, I sanitize my hands with alcohol cleaner ALL the frigging day… what more can I do? Life is a mere game of luck and chance, I could catch this nastiness at Tesco’s supermarket on the estate or anywhere so if you don’t read another posting on this WordPress you know what’s happened……. shouldn’t be flippant Andrew.
Ok I’m not climbing Mount Everest I know, I’ll take precautions, try and enjoy myself if only because we all have to return to some resemblance of normality, covid is here to stay and I need a change of scenery, anyways I have a day ticket for the famous Kew Gardens and that’s outside in the fresh air.
By rights I should be banged-up in Prison by now! My crime visiting my Mum’s house yesterday and contravening ‘The Emergency Corona Act 2020’, no seriously if you apply the letter of the law I’m now officially classified an Offender……. Holy blank just image the asshole horrors I could be subjected to sharing a prison cell with another guy, I’ve seen the movie Shawshank Redemption.
Okay, yes I’m joking for effect (err I think I am) however under new emergency legislation I’m only permitted to leave my home for a visit to the local supermarket, a short period of exercise (no one has a clue what this means), deliver food or medicine to a dependent, however the regulations stopping us from visiting friends or relatives is causing a great deal of confusion, and what constitutes ‘short exercise’ anyway? Taking a cycle ride into the countryside is exercise. To their credit many Police Forces are applying these new Laws with common sense also restraint, however many other Police Forces are dishing out Fines like they’re going out of fashion!
Btw I’m not criticizing our wonderful first responders they’re most likely as confused as the rest of us.
Now I’m old enough and wise enough to understand rushed through legislation, ‘flabby Law’ is also open to misinterpretation and could well end in tears, after all we’ve been here before, remember The Dangerous Dog Act? That well meaning knee jerk reaction to those horrific canine attacks in the mid 90’s, sadly this swiftly drafted ‘well meaning’ legislation was a disaster, I’m sorry but stories of veterinarians euthanising people’s beloved pets just because a dog growled were indefensible.
Time will tell if being fined £600+costs+a victim surcharge by overzealous stormtroopers sorry Policemen/women, all for the crime of standing waiting on a rail station platform without a good reason is justice well served, ‘Rushed Law is Bad Law’ isn’t that how the saying goes?
Ok this Law is only weeks old, hopefully guidelines will be clarified and published soon, if not perfectly law abiding citizens may well refuse to pay fines, contest unjust cases in Courts of Law and chaos will ensue, BUT yes I understand we are living through the worst public health pandemic for 100 years………… I get it! 😦
Anyways, not to worry my mother enjoyed a half hours natter and friendly company, we observed socialdistancing,I washed my hands, sat in her conservatory for the entire visit and she disinfected the chair after I’d gone home…………
And finally photos taken by me sitting in mum’s conservatory,
Ok before I begin, I’m not stupid, I understand both the reasoning and need for ‘The Health Protection UK Act 2020’. I understand the reasons why 60 million UK citizens are no longer permitted to leave their home, at least for a minimum of 6 months before the legislation is reviewed.
Six months! 😀 That’s living within a ‘Police State’ in all but name.
So please let me be clear on this, I’m not complaining, this corona virus infection death rate after having tested positive for COVID-19 is doubling every 4 days. As of now 600 deaths a day, and expected to be 1000 deaths per day when our Easter break falls. So understandably our Government attempts to suppress these tragic deaths by fear (I’m not being critical), fear of contracting this awful disease and the burden this puts on our NHS, also fear of monetary fines, Court appearances and/or possible prison for those contravening these new Regulations.
Sad times, ‘it is what it is’.
“If you are not complaining Andrew, why publish this today?” you may ask. Well having this WordPress has given me a disciplined reason to sit down and carefully read this new Act of Parliament, or ‘Instrument’ as Boris prefers to call it? (Statutory Instrument is a new one on me)……. 😀 why else would I have bothered posting?
😦 To be continued, A. Shepherdson 2020………………
Below, extracts (screenshots) from the new 2020 Emergency Act of Parliament.
I hope you’re coping well under the circumstances 🙂 …… believe it or not I am still commuting to work, yep here in the UK my employer is yet to close our University Department. Why so Andrew? God only knows but we’re hoping they have a cunning plan, either that or they’re waiting for Governmental edicts to trickle down instructing us what to do, or more’s the truth management are as bewildered as the rest of us? Who knows, but these are unpredictable uncertain times, the new world order is forget the past and understand pragmatism is the new word to live by, coping with problems sensibly and realistically, a heightened mindset my Grandparents lived by during World War 2.
Yes a rather very trite analogy but what else can I say? 🙂 ……. Anyways my apologies if this sunny disposition pissed you off.
(Oh and switch off that blessed TV news.)
Early Monday morning the above email popped into my Inbox, turns out barely 50metres away from our workshop someone tested positive for COVID-19! Apparently the unnamed academic felt unwell over the weekend, had themselves tested, informed The University then did the intelligent thing and self isolated. The amusing consequence being everyone I bumped into for the rest of the day either laughed a:
“Did you hear the news? I guess that means we’re all @%&£*# then!”
Or some such similar less profane response from the women (adorable creatures), but interestingly to a person NO ONE panicked, there was to be NO running around screaming in floods of tears, nope everyone just went about their normal duties though almost certainly a little more thoughtfully………. yep a positive test in the next building along certainly sharpens the imagination!
Perhaps we’re all a touch more well prepared for bad news in Oxford, nervous stoicism being the watch-phrase, you see my University city known the world over is alas a Corona Virus ‘hotspot’, the national statistics don’t lie, the coloured maps the TV love showing tell us what we already know, thousands of foreign students study at Oxford and no fewer than 30 foreign Nationals on our Group alone, we’re well aware carriers walk these city’s streets of dreaming spires and who knows how this one’s going to play out over the coming days, we thought Twenty First Century was fast paced well the new world order will be even quicker still, hopefully I’ll be mentally strong enough to cope.
If you want my personal opinion, and thanks for asking, I’m more convinced than ever after having watched this past week’s awful news stories, it’s the News Broadcasters who are panicking and the British public who are coping relatively well (that’ll change), anyways look after one another.
Early days and I’m enjoying reading all your Blogs 🙂 . x
Pictured below you see empty toilet roll shelves in my local ‘Waitrose’, have you noticed the guy looking in my direction? I’d describe him as an interested spectator watching me taking photographs earlier this afternoon, funnier still a minute or so earlier, he’d ALSO been photographing these same empty supermarket shelves!
Rather self consciously I pocketed my smart phone, carried on walking, moments later pausing to exchange a perplexed friendly comment, then he said,
Guy with the bald head: “These empty shelves, is it because of the corona virus?”
Me: “I think so…. people appear to be panic buying.”
Guy with the bald head: “Utterly bizarre!”
Me: “Yes… I couldn’t agree more.”
…………. and with that, the two of us grinning men went our separate ways to continue an evening’s grocery shopping.
I’ve a suggestion use newspapers in place of toilet roll as my great grandparents would have done, cut out photos of Donald Trump and Boris Johnson and take great pleasure and satisfaction using them to wipe your ass!
Am I missing something? Has a News story passed me by saying the world’s toilet roll producing factories are closing down? That there’s a global shortage of carboard tubing used to bind tissue paper around? Could it be when you catch Corona Virus one of the symptoms is uncontrollable diarrhea?
If you know the answer please do tell 🙂 .
I am genuinely dumbstruck, face masks and bottles of disinfectant yes, but switch on your TV, or read your browser’s News feed and whether you live in London New York or Florence Italy, the world’s Supermarket shelves are emptying of toilet loo rolls.
Panic buying makes me angry, a distasteful spectacle of human being’s at their most ugly, displays of greed and selfishness, the hoarding of food and a total lack of respect for others. For goodness sake we have an abundance of groceries and there’s plenty enough for everyone, I’d guess one News outlet filmed an empty toilet roll shelf, people rushed to their Supermarkets, a snowball effect ensued and before you know it there’s a worldwide retail shortage of toilet rolls.
Are we witnessing globalisation at its most terrifying, a shortage in ONE retail outlet triggering a global rush for food clothing petrol whatever, or is this an evolutionary throwback to dinosaur times, when berries growing on trees came into season and bountiful and cavemen felt the sudden urge to forage for food, collect hoard and store fruit before a diplodocus hoovered them up from the forest floor.
I have to agree with my bald headed Supermarket friend, “utterly bizarre!”
My Saturday morning treat, a guilty pleasure that’s more than a little unnerving oh and you’ll have guessed I’m not vegan.
Don’t you agree my cheeseburger looks delicious? What’s more it tastes divine, however rather troubling is the sight of pale sticky animal fat cooling in a frying pan afterwards.……. a diet of these furs arteries in the heart often culminating with a heart attack!
So have you ever stumbled across the saying ‘an Angel tapped me on the shoulder’, if the answer’s no and no don’t google, for those of us reaching a certain age and perhaps experiencing our first major health scare, a tap from an angel’s heavenly hand reminds us of our own impending mortality……. mind you I’ve often thought ‘the Grim Reaper tapped my shoulder’ has a more truthful ring about it, if a little morbid.
Touch wood, still at age54 I’ve experienced no major health scares, no ghostly spirit has come a calling, however I know of a man who unfortunately has and his recent heart attack came as a total shock, he thankfully survived but as you’d imagine he’ll never be the same man again, a new life has begun of changed diet, cutting out red meat and eating more fruit and veg, a daily routine of tablets also regular light exercise, doctor’s checkups, looking after his body, forever with thoughts of ‘my heart is damaged’ and that’s enough about my friend.
He’s thankfully ok, shaken but ok, and a retiree I used to work with had stents fitted 20 years ago and he reached the grand old age of 83. Living in the modern technological age gifts us amazing medical treatments that allow us to lead a healthy usable useful life.🙄 Live each day as if it’s your last.
Hmm so what of me? I walk up three flights of stairs at work and I’m slightly out of breath, a little worrying but I don’t drive a car therefore walk EVERYWHERE, but still perhaps I should be cutting out animal fat from my diet, perhaps the time’s come to stop eating homemade cheeseburgers?
Perhaps eat more of these?
..……… God’s honest truth I’m feeling pains in my chest!
(So how to make sense of today’s posting? Hopefully it’s a fun read and will alter any preconceptions you may already have.)
I hope you’re having a lovely Sunday…… might spring have arrived early?
Am I guilty of being a life loser? Or a guy with a healthy interest in social media and (within reason) most topics internet related? You decide 🙂 , oh and with a healthy respect of women which GOES without saying, incidentally the beautiful strawberry blonde below just might be named ‘Sasha’?
I agree a touch long and not for everyone but I enjoyed writing this, hmm might I be on the cusp of my first ever addiction?……… You gotta agree she has fabulous boobs!
If I’m at a loose end, bored of surfing the net or organising my online finances, more ‘not than often’ I turn to an adult online chatline called and yes I will name the site, called ‘Chatbate’. Not that original bringing together the two words ‘Chat’ and ‘bate’ as in masturbate. BUT note I never do, I’ll never visit the private chatroom of an attractive lady to kneel in front of my laptop screen jerking off. Nope never ever happens, honest!
BTW if you are curious each token’s worth £0.08.
So judge me for admitting such a heinous blasphemy and alas I never tip them money in the form of tokens, I’m a little guilty about that, I guess I’m what’s known as a freeloader, you know watching a woman undress for free…… I would though, then I read chatbates terms and conditions, holy blank they were scary reading, long story short you basically handover your email address also bank details to a Californian porn company, leaving them to share the info with god knows who…. Russian gangsters?….. Nope not going to happen even though there is one certain young lady I’d love to tip, but the financial risk aint worth it.
I’m genuinely a touch dejected about that.
I guess I fit the profile of lonely middle aged man, and my retort would be so what, Chatbate is legal and regulated, user friendly for over 18year olds, morally acceptable in content with friendly conversation I’d liken tooo blogging…….. oh not forgetting, separate Rooms of women young and old, hustling to make a little money and that’s ok lol.
Knowing what I do of the sex industry many ladies will be sole breadwinners, many will have young children, there’ll be no glittering academic education with not so many employable skills. So what do they do to make money? They rent a chatroom fitted with streamed webcam, and do whatever they feel comfortable with AND always abiding by legally regulated house rules, ie nothing that breaks law such as consuming drink no drugs, no children present, no penetrative sex, no animals etc…….
In other words all good clean fun where all parties understand that fun is making money, the dictionary definition of hustle. You ARE hustling for a living, I am, so are they, so is everyone.
I’m the last man to pass a scolding opinion, these global ladies are hustling earning money to live and pay the bills, students to pay grants, and I guess their consumers are lonely middle aged guys who enjoy conversing (via chatlogs) with women and friendships are formed, with engaging witty female conversationalists earning good sometimes fantastic money, the bigger the outgoing personality, exponentially the more they’ll earn and if they do get some asshole chiming in with disgusting comments then all she has to do is kick him out and they do!
Oh and they have to remember men are watching as they remove items of clothing….. yep they’ll be jacking off….. and that’s ok….. I guess lol.
Talking of stripping, you readers maybe wonder what ‘activities’ do the online women actually get up to? Invariably they have a menus of do’s, beginning with several pre-purchased tokens for a smile, several thousands more for a masturbation show, with reasonable amounts in-between for the removal of bras or panties. Then again, some ladies are strictly tease only without removing underwear, perhaps only bra flashing or showing their ass wearing panties to the camera…….. men cannot ask direct requests, and the women cannot ‘badger’ men into handing over money I guess both scenarios are classed as bullying and or extorsion… like I said all legally regulated vanilla fun between consenting adults.
I don’t sit and gaze at these women hour after hour, no read an earlier post for frigs sake, I’m out 12 hours a day working for a living, but yes when home, making tea, and if a certain young lady is working yes I’ll watch her from my laptop afront the microwave oven, not religiously mind you. ‘Sasha’ has a Bio which reads she’s age 23 living in Eastern Europe and you have to agree is an absolutely stunning young woman, she answer’s questions from the attendees in her room, ‘giggles’ and smiles a lot, is very engaging with a warm personality and an all round lovely lady, nothing seedy mind you, her chosen occupation is to work 4 hours a day hustling for money but just differently to the rest of us, oh and reading the chat log which can be highly entertaining reading! Then every so often a guy will pay a considerable amount of money for a bra off, or even more to take her into Private chat, the screen goes blank black for ten minutes where I guess she strips off her sexy underwear and performs a full female masturbation show for his enjoyment…….. and who knows if the guy’s jerking off….. my guess is yes….. and why wouldn’t he?
I guess all I’m saying is, these women aren’t morally bankrupt, agreed?
So judge me, lol the choice is watching YouTube videos and reading blogs while I wash the dishes lol, I don’t watch TV News and time to time I occasionally gaze at lovely ‘Sasha’ from Eastern Europe laying on her bed removing wearing sexy underwear, perhaps once in a while revealing a shaved kitty or removing her bra for a minute or so…….. I guess the skill is NOT to become emotionally attached to a fantasy for we human’s have inherent addictive personalities, whether drink drugs tobacco or idealised women, I can see scenarios where guys fall in love with these ladies hustling for a living.
Nope addiction won’t ever happen to me.
Incidentally and if you’re at all interested, I never watch pornography, the sight of actors copulating disgusts and bores me to frigging tears……… in-fact pornsites should be banned from the web if only because children access them.
So my question is… if pushed would you be happy to strip naked for money?
Tagged #Just For Fun and #sex-education info with no… and I do mean NO accompanying dick selfies, that’s just plain disgusting and just so as you know I’ve never texted one in my life nor ever will.
Regular readers to this WordPress just might remember a recent Birthday post, lol probably not, well one particular phrase has been ‘pricking’ my imagination ever since…..
“But I can still achieve an erection so ‘phew’ life’s not all bad.”
……… so I guess that makes this evening’s a prompted response? Incidentally pictured below a cartoon lifted from the net……. made me smile, 🙂
A question for you, do dick jokes make you laugh? If the answer’s yes, I’ve 3 Male erection jokes lifted from the internet and hopefully you’ll find them as amusing as I did 🙂… though keep in mind I’ve the sense of humour of a 13year old, but then haven’t all men?
1: The Priest and the Nun
A Nun and a Priest were crossing the Sahara desert on a camel. On the third day out, the camel suddenly dropped dead without warning.
After dusting themselves off, the Nun and the Priest surveyed their situation and after a long period of silence, the Priest spoke:
‘Well, Sister, this looks pretty grim.’ ‘I know, Father. In fact, I don’t think it likely that we can survive more than a day or two..’ ‘I agree,’ says the Father. ‘Sister, since we are unlikely to make it out of here alive, would you do something for me?’ ‘Anything, Father.’ ‘I have never seen a woman’s breasts and I was wondering if I might see yours.’ ‘Well, under the circumstances I don’t see that would do any harm.’
The Nun opened her habit and the Priest enjoyed the sight of her shapely breasts, commenting frequently on their beauty:
‘Father, could I ask something of you?’ ‘Yes, Sister?’ ‘I have never seen a man’s penis. Could I see yours?’ ‘I suppose that would be OK,’ the Priest replied, lifted his robe, and almost immediately he was sporting a huge erection. ‘Sister, you know that if I insert this in the right place, it can breath new life!’ ‘Is that true Father?’ ‘Yes, it is, Sister.’ ‘Oh Father, that’s wonderful … now stick it in our camel and let’s get the fuck out of here!’
2: A man goes to the Doctor for a prostate exam.
The Doctor puts on his rubber glove and asks the man to bend over, he inserts a finger in his ass and begins the checkup.
After a minute or so the doctor says, “Don’t worry, it’s very normal to get an erection during this exam.”
A little confused, the man turned and replied, “But I don’t have an erection?”
Doctor. “Yeh I know… but I do!”
3: Two guys standing on the end of a pier, peeing.
“Man that water’s cold.”
“Sure is — deep, too.”
All very tame reading, anyways they made me laugh and I did enjoy the Nun and Priest story.
So before reading this evening’s posting, tell me honestly could you explain the biological mechanics to a guy achieving an erection? Well truthfully I couldn’t have, still at the age of 54 my erect penis is as hard as a rod of iron, and being serious fo a second I thank the Lord I’m still able to get it up……… omg I cannot imagine the mental anguish and emotional suffering erectile dysfunction brings to a marraige, I’m not fooling around, any medical condition is awful and truly upsetting fot those concerned 😦 .
What IS an Erection? An erection starts in your brain. Something you saw, felt, smelled, heard, or thought makes your nerves send chemical messages to the blood vessels in your penis. The arteries relax and open up to let more blood flow in; at the same time, the veins close up. Once blood is in the penis, pressure traps it within the corpora cavernosa. Your penis expands and holds the erection. When the inflow of blood stops and the veins open, your penis becomes soft.
Having never used a cock ring in my life before, I’d suggest the point to this sex-aid will be trapping blood within the penis thereby holding his erection, and then I guess you can enjoy sexual relations to your heart’s content? Or until the kitty feels chafed and a little sore?
……. and again tell me honestly, did you know the biological definition of Ejaculation? I didn’t before this evening, I’d suggest we’ve either been on the receiving end of one, or have masturbated since being small children and just so as you know I jack off no more than three times a week, which according to the internet is about a guy’s average, the regularity dependant on whether our secretary at work flashes her right boob in my direction. I nearly ejaculated right in middle of a Group meeting for heaven’s sake!
What IS an Ejaculation? When you’re aroused, tubes called the vas deferens squeeze sperm from the testes toward the back of the urethra. The seminal vesicles also release fluid there. The urethra senses the sperm and fluid mixture. Then, at the height of sexual excitement, it sends signals to your spinal cord, which in turn sends signals to the muscles at the base of your penis. These contract powerfully and quickly, every 0.8 seconds. This forces the semen out of the penis as you climax.
Women reveal on Twitter, they’ve had a frigging enough of men sending dick pictures, they’re neither fun or funny, more to the point disgusting enough to make them gag, and the act of texting is both sinister and predatory…. like I said, just so as you know I’ve never sent one in my life.
So what of me? And regular readers to this WordPress will know I love talking about meee. Well seeing as you’re interested thank the Lord I’ve never had trouble achieving or maintaining an erection, btw 160mm is above average and we all know how size matters to us men, we’re very insecure when discussing our penis lengths, and like I’ve said before I’m a 5 minute ride to copulation kinda guy, any thoughts of maintaining my hardness for 2 hour marathon sex sessions are a complete anathema, perhaps I should buy a cock ring?
Nah I’ll give rubber devices a miss.
A jewel of inspirirational thought ‘hit me’ around about my Birthday, perhaps not the momentous awful day itself, anyways there I was standing beneath a hot steaming shower, as hot as I can physically bare, and I can picture myself now gazing down at my flaccid softened penis and saying to myself ‘omg you are over 50 years old!’ And yes we men do refer to our dicks as third party, now that’s a fair old age for such an important organ, over half a century we’ve been joined together and lol like I keep reaffirming, thank God the old man still works!
If ‘he’ no longer ejaculated, I’d honestly be beside myself with grief after enjoying a lifetime’s orgasmic pleasure, and still to this day I’m impressed by the visual display, watching it harden before my incredulous gaze, and the speed of erection never fails to astonish me, quite literally watching blood engorge from 50mm-160mm in less than 3 seconds is nothing short of amazing, and they harden at most inopportune sometimes embarrassing times, jeeze the tricks nature plays can be simply breathtaking.
Talking of the women I have slept with (and you can read many a true tale here on my blog) my erect penis has never reduced a woman to laughter, when dropping my boxers I always make a point of watching her face, hoping for a reaction, perhaps a shy lick of the lips soon followed by warm palms working their magic on my member, stoking fondling rolling dextrous fingers around the bellend, and from my experience women very nearly love my erection as much as I do. Incredibly I’ve never had to ask a woman to take me in her mouth but then does any man? Hmm that always appears to be a voluntary reaction on seeing a penis she likes… because believe me when I say size matters!
AND thankfully women cannot talk when their mouth’s are full! 😀
Haha that’s quite enough silliness for one blog post, I was about to wax lyrical on the joy’s of penetration but I’ll leave that ‘masterpiece’ for another day……. yep in conclusion I do still love my erect penis 😊.
………….and finally to the British comedian Billy Connolly’s thoughts on getting old, “never ever waste an erection.”
So what’s your preferred length of erection? Discuss 😉 .
The reason for this post is? Thinking aloud that’s all, idle thoughts🙂…… I’m neither whinging or feeling sorry for myself, employment is my choice to make and I know how lucky I really am.
Now just so as you know I’m NOT complaining, ok! I’m one of the lucky few to be in full time secure employment, for now, let’s see what horrors Brexit hopefully doesn’t have in store because, well there are good reasons why high European import taxes may effect my employer’s profitability, perhaps Brexit uncertainty is the reason for my unhappiness or perhaps there are darker reasons? Anyways that’s enough introspection for present…. perhaps there’ll be further thoughts to follow.
I awake every weekday morning at 5.45am, I battle a commuter 45minute bus journey to work, then work from 7.30am to 4.30pm, come late afternoon I battle an even longer return commuter journey home, only to walk through my front door at 5.30 evening time……. lol the same routine 40 weeks a year as I have done since age 16 years, but like I said I’m so very fortunate because a great many people don’t have paid employment and I’m FOREVER reminding myself how lucky I really am, but 16-54 years for heaven’s sake 😀 perhaps I should have changed carreers at age 30? Perhaps I’d be happier if I was married, then again blogger Skinny and Single said to me, “be careful what you wish for”.
Two videos this evening, me operating a metal turning lathe another featuring my workbench, the very same bench I first stood before 10 lol years ago.
Incidentally I’m NOT complaining, I enjoy my job and the 12 hours of my life everyday is worth it, pay’s the bills…… but what’s life all about, I mean what an earth is the meaning of life? I guess love your family also as much sex as you can find seems about right.
After re reading, the word ‘perhaps’ doesn’t half feature a lot, night all.
WordPress Statistics baffle me! How can a post written Sep 2018 be so popular today?
After 2+ years, 2 blogs and writing 375+ postsA Woman’s Cleavage (a cautionary tale)is my most viewed ever! Bar none! And the past 4 months alone have been 33, 43, 43 and 39 (and still with 4 days to go!)
It’s baffling…. a mystery and I just don’t understand why? Why aren’t ALL my posts THIS popular, what happened to my favourite My neighbour IS a Stripper!
But lol dooo you care?
I am an occasional reader of Blog statistics, carefully peruse and scrutinize my popularity, it’s a boy thing, numbers matter, size matters I guess God hard wired us that way!🙄
(Having said all below I wouldn’t worry yourselves, certain niches of creativity for example poetry might be copied, but as for daily bloggers you know writing about life, sharing thoughts and opinions I’d guess there’ll be ok…. anyways an interesting conversation all the same?)
Plagiarism on WordPress goes on, thieving of a blogger’s written thoughts and ideas happens, we all know it does and I guess it’s part and parceled in with the Gig…. not a victimless crime and the phrase ‘cest la vie’ comes to mind, but I’d love to understand the motivation of people who do it, what drives them to start a blog, copy other writer’s poetry and pass it off as their own? Can’t be the money because come on, does anyone really make enough here to live on?
Perhaps the problem is down to darker motives, envious of another’s popularity, wishing for thousands of followers (do they all read?) Coveting the hundreds of likes beneath a post, jealous of a comments thread 20 30 40 readers long, bitterness at the knowledge blog friendships nurtured over sometimes years are such fun. Yep I understand the attraction for the lonely, we all wish to be liked also popular, we all enjoy social interaction but plagiarising content just isn’t right.
My suggestion is give ‘original’ writing a crack… see where it takes you? Or perhaps a photo blog?
Plagiarism! def: The practice of taking someone else’s work or ideas and passing them off as one’s own.
My ‘Jojo Rabbit’ will follow sooon I promise, but I’ve thoughts of plagiarism on my mind, I’ve also to write of my experience dating a real life blogger I first met on WordPress, we became chatty in comments as you do, and writers I follow might knowingly smile because I enjoy commenting blogs I love reading….. and no one has labelled me a stalker… yet!
Those Posts will come, better to have tooo many ideas than none at all.
In my time loitering around this internet backwater largely left alone by assholes and bullies, I put that solely down to the lack of money making opportunities, writers are tooo intelligent to be taken in by scammers, and middle aged sex obsessed men don’t make for great marketing hook-ups unless you’re flogging condoms or private sexual disease treating clinics.
Where was I? Oh yes plagiarism, the theft of words and ideas. Before the lady finished blogging for good, a fabulous Canadian writer name ‘Skinny and Single’ recounted tales of posts she’d had stolen, rewritten onto fake blogs edited by sad individuals, ‘Skinny’ at the time was a blogging superstar. Then there’s my own tawdry 1000 word tales of bedroom sexual liaisons, fun facts about vaginas and observations of the human female mammal, have any of my posts been copied? ‘Skinny and Single’ replied my question, saying in comments ‘You will have been copied’.
‘Such is life’ 🙂 .
So have I been ripped off? Not that I know of, but after several years blogging, and hundreds of posts written I have NO doubt a post (or two) has been copied and pasted onto another’s blog, with their authorship beneath….. so do I wish to be notified? No not really, arguments would ensue, profanities exchanged, there’d be anger and we know how dangerous it is to make enemies on the internet, IP’s can be traced and I’m just not into dramatic conflict.
But I have no doubt I’d be upset, to read someone’s authorship beneath my post knowing how challenging I find the process would hurt, but I guess unfortunately plagiarism comes part of the Gig. As for me I’ve never copied, ffs where’s the fun in that! Yes I’ll read a Cosmipoliton magazine sex survey, feel empowered to run with the idea and then write my own responce……. prompting discusion is ok, theft is wrong.
‘Can I hand up my essay on Friday Miss. My ghostwriter is unwell at present.’
Have I breached Copyright? Have I frigging ever! This Blog is littered by photos downloaded stolen borrowed from the internet, yes guilty as charged and I guess I’m not proud of that, they enhance a post, make for lol fun clickbait, entice draw readers in…. hopefully! I guess I shouldn’t but I do attribute ownership where possible and I never pass off as my own.
(After a 5 minute period of introspection where hot ‘mint’ tea was consumed.)
Yes I agree with Hester in South Africa… if you wish to download one of my own photos feel free to do so, just don’t say it belongs to you 🙂 .
I KNOW a young lady who posts semi nude photos of herself on the internet, yep Lizzie (for the purposes of this post) shows scantily clad selfies of herself wearing colourful bikinis she’s gonna use on holiday…. and there’s more! You’ll hardly believe this true, but wow she also posts selfies wearing tasteful white lingerie… and you just don’t know how tempted I’ve been to post one…. all in the name of investigative journalism mind you!
However I’ve resisted temptation because posting on my blog is morally reprehensible, no just darn right wrong! Not forgetting revealing her identity could almost certainly get me the sack from work, infringe Copyrights on umpteen social media platforms, and most importantly of all might cause the young woman untold embarrassment.
That’s if she cares of course.
(I haven’t but jeeze I’ve been so tempted if only to prove a point…. honest!)
Let me expand this rather cautionary tale, perhaps it’ll interest you mums with daughters of your own? You see Lizzie works at the same place I do, and that’s all the detail I am going to divulge for obvious reasons, except she’s aged about twenty, an apprentice plumber (or perhaps not) by trade and a rather pretty young lady with I might add a cracking petite figure.
“Well Andrew that’s rather forward of you, isn’t it?”
Now this is where my tale gets really interesting, because a colleague happened across her Instagram account and btw not me! He’s never said how and I’ve never asked why, but I guess if you searched her name on Google, and she owns an Instagram account, then you WILL easily find her….. a cautionary tale indeed.
Well cutting a short story shorter, the majority of Lizzie’s photos are of pets Grandparents and friends and surprisingly accessible to public viewing (though not all), but there’s more! To my guys astonishment, Lizzie shares full body length photos of herself, captured in her bedroom gazing at her reflection in a mirror with a mobile phone to hand, and yes there are photos of herself wearing bikinis, clubbing outfits and omg white lingerie!
I’m not ashamed to say we men have all viewed her Instagram, it’s been passed around the department like naughty schoolboys sharing porn images with their chums….. btw I’d like to strongly protest that I haven’t downloaded these images.
I haven’t, but here’s the point I could have screenshot her wearing ******* print bikinis, I’d guess some colleagues might have but she’s over 18, they’re public viewing so who’d care if they’re into that kind of thing… and unworried if the wife inspects their mobile phone! 😫
So my question is, does Lizzie suspect we’ve seen these revealing photos, you know wearing her bra and panties? There’s a thought, all I do know is sharing compromising photos on the internet has consequences, nosy guys find them, images get uploaded onto porn sites AND potentially you could see one posted onto a middle aged guy’s WordPress.
MY WP! 🤫
Jeeze, now wouldn’t that have made for an entertaining read 😂 .
A post inspired by a favourite female blogger (or in other words I copied her idea?)
Wow another year blogging and all with 82 posts written, which was a genuine surprise seeing as I was absent for three months this summer, then again I’ve always written in fits and starts, when the urge takes me, but that’s ok because the best piece of blogging advice I’ve ever been given is, be honest to yourself also enjoy the process, and I’ve been at times recklessly honest but that’s been half the fun!
I put my lost writing mojo towards the back end of 2019 down to Brexit, there’s no coincidence my period away could be mirrored to depression and the current shambolic state of British politics….. in truth I’ve fallen out of love with this my country which is a crying shame.
Enough of politics for this is a politics free blog.
Now for WordPress popularity statistics that are so important to some, me included and I’d be lying if I said Comments don’t matter, I’d love more but that’s ok we all find an audience… oh and I will admit to being a bit of a like whore!
A great deal less numbers than some but I’m more than happy…….. also this year I’ve been singularly viewed in Ghana Rwanda also Namibia, yes someone living in Africa has read a post and that blows my mind, hmm I wonder which one?
Well judging by my top 5 viewed posts, I’d guess said tale would have been sex related, such is the adult blogging tentacle outreach across our cyber globe……….. oh and I’ll forever wonder if I have a real life lurker reading from within the shadows?
Top 5 countries viewed from:
India🇮🇳 (that’s not quite the surprise you’d first assume)
Yes all sex related, in fact all my top ten are true tales of love and sex.
So begs the question, what happened to my series themed Trellick Towers? Or the social comment that is Sandro’s café? Or my day trip to atmospheric Highgate cemetery London? I guess the old adage ‘sex sell’s’ applies 😄
Sooo many questions!
Early January began with visiting my father in hospital, and many times again after he later moved in to a nursing home, a sorrow filled tale ending with his passing in April, and as many of you will understand the sadness and emotional turmoil death of a parent is life at it’s most brutal. I’ve admitted here before we weren’t very close, but I loved him and he loved me and I’m happy knowing we enjoyed each other’s company full of its ups and downs, I have no real regrets which I will forever be grateful for. Weeks before his death I remember the sudden urge I felt 11 o clock one evening, urgently rushing by bus to be at his bedside after for some unknown reason thinking that he’d pass away that same evening, lol I shan’t repeat his answer on seeing me, but it made both me and the Ward Sister laugh.
In the words of Monty Python ‘now for something completely different’, anecdotes ‘hot’ off the press from my all tooo active imagination.
This past year I’ve slept with 5 different women, not their real names but there’s Sarah, Shannon, Diana, Nikola and Sara, yes loving Sara a favourite lady of mine for oh so many reasons. I agree these are details deemed rather distasteful to share, but what the hell🤫 where’s the fun in not telling?
Truthfully I cannot remember where and when I discovered this what shall remain nameless website, but if you’re at all interested, chatting to a woman you’ve never met before on a legally regulated web chatroom for consenting adults is thrilling. Likewise arranging to meet her in some cheap Oxford motel is exhilarating, and if truth be told meeting these women is a military campaign in itself, there’s mobile phone exchanges taken from bleak hotel carparks, me dodging security at the revolving doors, a firtive skirting of reception desks without being called over and asked,
“Where do you think you are going Sir?”
Then there’s locating the actual hotel room after being texted the number, the nerve tingling moment she first opens the room door, the first time either of us see if our photos resemble those on said chatroom, and I haven’t been disappointed yet. Apart from 55year old Cara back in 2018 who omitted to admit she had a dodgy knee which meant during sex, after a vigorous bed bouncing cowgirl, she had to step off the bed to click her knee back into position.
Happy afternoons I sometimes think I live for, though perhaps emotionally unhealthy experiences and yet filled with such warmth fun and laughter, yes I agree to a lacking real love ….. then again what is real love?
After all said and done, there’s a wicked thrill to internet sex, a day full of unknown possibilities, thrills and excitement ‘pricking’ every sense of my body into life……….. and great sex, naked body’s entwined, caressing and squeezing tits, sucking on dry nipples and joy of joys feasting between her wide open thighs, lapping at baby soft skinned folds of succulent labia, the tip of my tongue searching for her elusive clitoris…… and yes I do love giving oral sex.
So what joy and horrors will 2020 bring? Well glancing at the clock on my laptop today is january 1st, and you know what that means, my obituary will never read ‘died in 2019!’
I have a Christmas holiday story of my own to follow tomorrow🙂.
There was ONE fun News story that made me smile over the Christmas break, appealed to my boyish sense of humour so to speak. 43yr old Veronica Duque is the lady’s name, a Biology school teacher living in Spain.
Mind you, I’d suggest you gotta be blessed with her lithe willowy figure to carry off a catsuit such as this.
Or is that Andrew being sexist again?
Well as the story goes, Ms. Duque began her lesson at Maria Teresa Inigo de Toro school in Valladolid wearing a white coat, then disrobed at an opportune moment to reveal a bodysuit depicting the inside of a human body, and all to help her year four class learn about anatomy:
“Visualise the disposition of internal organs” she later admitted to El Pais,
Adding there was “confusion, shouts, applause and some covered their eyes”.
And you guessed it, because we now live in a social media obsessed world a fellow teacher snapped pictures of Ms Duque giving the lesson, sent them to her husband who uploaded them on to Twitter where surprise surprise they went globally viral!
Don’t you agree Ms. Duque is a genius superstar of a teacher? What better way of making a class more practical and relevant, capturing the attention of her students for what can be an interminably tedious subject, all in all a fabulously creative idea to nurture a child’s imagination.
No doubt there’ll be killjoys on Twitter calling her unprofessional but I think she’s a creative influencer, just imagine sitting in her class and gazing at her perfect figure with all human organs correctly displayed where they should be. I’ll go further, I’d suggest you’d learn more about human anatomy in one hour than you’ll learn for the rest of your life.
Apparently she has other creative classroom ideas!
Mild sex themes and written just for fun. Intrigued? Then please read on.
So Andrew why retell this true story in a blog? Well sex themed posts are a lot of fun to write and this one’s definitely unusual, mind you ladies names must be changed or you just might receive angry NO furious texts 11 o’clock at night, a long story read here…….. though on reflection I wouldn’t bother.
So with secrecy also discretion clearly in mind, let us name our lady err Lilly!
Don’t you think ‘Google street view’ is the most amazing website ever created? Now here’s a switched stream of consciousness for you. Ten years ago the thought that you could log onto a PC, enter a house number into a Google search engine, press ‘click’ and you’d be whisked to the exact location on a digital map was the stuff of dreams, you can even do this on a phone for heaven’s sake. What’s more you can move a yellow avatar, drop him onto the chosen house number and by the wonders of near science fiction itself, the screen will change to a street level photograph looking directly at the house you’re searching for.
Incredible, and because human beings are prone to breaking the law, you’ll gaze at alternative views and in effect ‘case the joint’, garden gates that may be unlocked, windows that could well be left open, all in all a website that’s tailor made tool for house burglars.
One evening several years ago, laptop to hand sat in a comfy living room chair, I located my own home on Google street having decided to take a nose around my neighbourhood, we’ve all done this and fascinating this car like journey can be to.
(As an aside my mother discovered a neighbour had built a swimmng pool in the garden she hadn’t known about! 😀 )
Ahh before I continue, below are two ‘screen shot’ images of my own home taken from Google street, but note all sensitive information has been blanked out, I don’t want any cat burglars robbing my home when I’m out!
Incidentally, many years ago I was standing at a bus stop yes waiting for a bus, and this van slowly drove past with the name Google emblazened across the side, and with what looked like a tripod fixed to the roof taking 360 degree photos from the road, I’ve since located that bus shelter to see if the camera captured me but of course all us prospective passengers were blurred out.
BTW as is the number plate of the stationary Mini convertible outside my home.
Anyways there I sat driving an imaginary car ‘up and down’ this quiet street I live in, and I can distinctly remember wondering who an earth owned that white Mini half parked on the pavement? Now I don’t own this sporty little car, neither do my neighbours nor any of my friends family or acquaintances. Well this started to bother me, just be aware I live in a very quiet neighbourhood with lots of road parking space, yet this Mini sat directly opposite my front door, no question in my mind the owner was visiting me, was I out perhaps at work? Who were they?
Then after half an hour or so of wracking my brains, like a streak of lightening I remembered it was Lilly’s car, yes at that very moment a Google van drove past, this young lady was inside my house and now I remembered she’d said her own car was being serviced in a garage, and she’d been loaned a white Mini courtesy car for the day.
Well I was chuckling to myself well pleased I’d solved this worrisome conundrum, then lol a second more wicked thought crossed my mind, and yes as I zoomed in closer to the second floor bedroom window, the curtains were drawn closed and note in the daytime, why would my curtains be CLOSED?
I know exactly why, Lilly was in my bedroom that’s why! 😄
Well turns out at the very second the Google street van drove past photographing my house, for absolute certain I can say without any shadow of doubt, Lilly and I were having sex in BED together, now there’s a thought, could even have been the very moment I climaxed as she rode my penis cowgirl. Now if you are interested and I know you are, cowgirl is my very favourite position, heavenly sex for lazy men. I can visualise Lilly now with her long blonde hair, a pretty ‘blank’ year old with trim figure firm strong thighs straddling my groin as she breathlessly rode me like a female jockey astride her stallion.
(I mean sitting on her horse ‘bobbing up and down’ as it raced to the finish line!)
Keep up 😀 .
Lovely lady was Lilly, with her firm to grasp high round boobs and bubbly personality, I’ve seldom had more enjoyable fantastic sex than with Lilly, she could even swallow my entire 160mm shaft down her throat……….. with condom fitted of course. Hmm happy days and she had the cutest little kitty!
Now come on! Tell me if I’m wrong, what are the chances that anyone can pin point where they were, or what they were doing at the time Google chose to ‘upload’ a photo of their home on the internet?
Can you ‘top’ that with your own unusual tale of coincidences conundrums and science fiction technology?
Original fiction written by myself (Andrew 🙂 ) and after rather painful reading one week later, I wished I’d waited because lol the beginning to my ‘erotic’ tale is rather painful reading. Just so as you know I’ve edited slightly, lol you live and learn!
Let us agree to descibe this as flawed but fun?
(And btw a tale of Voyeurism and NOT the movie ‘Rear Window’)
🙂 Now please read on………………………..
One late summer’s evening ten or so years ago, standing whilst leaning against my bedroom window-sill I gazed out upon a typically British urban scene, though not necessarily looking at the detached house of my neighbours opposite, if you really wish to know and I hope you do for the purposes of this tale, I’d awoken that summer’s night to watch one of natures true wonders, sheet lightning illuminating the pitch dark sky accompanied by ear shattering claps of thunder, so loud I’d flinch with shock! I don’t believe in God and creationism, but watching this impending thunder storm, a true marvel of our natural world, I couldn’t wait for the lashing rain, perhaps on evenings such as these I’ll contemplate ‘the meaning of life’, because surely some divine ruler must have created this spectacular display!
So I’ll ask you a question, before an electric lightning thunder show consummates with a pavement smashing deluge of rain, transforming the air icy cold within seconds, how do they begin? Yes and I hope you’re keeping up, that particular evening was uncomfortably warm, a humid balmy atmosphere meaning sleep was restless if not impossible and if you are unacquainted with British weather, evenings such as these happen only three or four times a year in Britain and looking sideways at houses along my street, all my neighbours windows were open with curtains gently fluttering in time with the humid breeze.
Then all of a sudden, catching me totally unawares, an attic room light switched on in the house opposite, a white light so bright against its dark brown tiled pitched roof, this room glowed in the night. The shock quite startled me from contemplative thoughts of life wonderment and creation, and for the life of me I suddenly felt the urge to all but stumble toward a bedroom shelf and grab my pair of birdwatching binoculars and btw I’m NOT a ‘peeping Andrew’ by nature, but yes I’ll admit to watching pretty ladies boobs. Binoculars in hand, I hurriedly returned to my bedroom sill position steadying myself looking at the attic room window across the street (and please be aware I’ve never done this before or since, as for legalities?) I’d propose ‘an Englishman’s home is his castle’ and this bedroom window is mine to peep through if I so wish………… now call the Police!
(Ok I’d agree watching through binoculars was a touch creepy, hey ho!)
With my two elbows propped upon the sill, I can clearly remember physically trembling as I brought the binoculars up to my eyes, then seconds after locating this brilliant white light, finally my neighbour’s room focussed into view and wow that window opposite flooded the optics in entirety and clarity. As if only metres away, I could clearly see the room inside with it’s white painted walls and a second window directly behind looking out onto the farm fields beyond, because this attic room sat below a roof sided apex, it’s very own bedroom walls have you will, only the centre part of the room was tall enough for one person to stand upright in.
Remember this fact because it is important to my tale!
Now to my second heart stopping shock of this truly eventful evening, sparking my imaginations alive the silhouette of a middle aged woman walked into the room’s centre, a slim bodied female pausing opposite our bedroom windows and WOW lucky me watching from across the street. I of course knew this lady well, and let us name her Helen for the purposes of this tale, there she stood motionless, a handsome looking woman 55years old if a day and no taller than 5’5″, yes she’s a girlish Grandmother in the autumn years of her life but with her slender figure, pert bosom and wrinkle free skin, I’m here to tell you mature lady Helen would make many a young buck’s groin twitch hard!
I gulped and swallowed, my trembling hands trying their utmost to keep the binoculars steady, yet my imagination has seldom felt more alive before or since because I’m telling you now, watching any woman is thrilling and sure to make my penis throb hard.
Though the thought crossed my mind, ‘Helen could well be aware Andrew is spying through her window?’
And so for half an hour or so, playing out before my disbelieving eyes began an eroticised performance a guy wishes for in his wildest dreams, sexual fantasies of near naked women sending him to sleep, curled fingers reigning in his bucking hardness, tingling balls within a bulging scrotum ready to shoot their warm sticky seed!
With every nerve in my body electrified alive, I watched as my neighbour Helen wandered the tiny space for what I always assumed was a bedroom, left then right she moved but always returning to her room’s middle window and my transfixed view, only disappearing for seconds at a time, Helen would pause motionless and the thought crossed my mind ‘was she hoping expecting I’m watching her slim figure clothed by only a mustard yellow tee shirt?’ Oh and white shorts clearly visible above her deep silled window.
Then suddenly she turned to lean out the opposite window, gaze for herself at the electric lightning show beyond, and oh my god like a proverbial streak of lightning, I realised those weren’t shorts Helen was wearing because in the process of stretching and leaning forward, the tops of two pink thighs came into view exposing just a hint of rosy buttock cheeks, oh my sweet Jesus… ‘Helen wore panties and NOT shorts after all!’
Shocks like these aren’t healthy for a man my age but instinctively I knew I’d never watch the like of this ever again, secretly viewing attractive knicker wearing women come only once in a lucky man’s lifetime.
Perhaps now bored of watching God’s lighting show, or having decided Andrew had seen quite enough of her ass, Helen glanced into the room’s centre and proceeded to shock me yet again. Holy %&’$ is this woman trying to murder me for in one choreographed graceful movement she slipped off her panties before tossing to one side so revealing a triangular mop of brown pubic hair to match her locks of brunette, a shoulder length style that suited her thinnish pretty face for as I said Helen’s a handsome woman.
Now naked from the waist down, well just below her hairy covered vulva and no not even my binoculars could focus that passport ‘slit’ to heaven, Helen again began to glide her tiny bedroom space all the time with pieces of cloth to hand, five glorious minutes passed by though I have a feeling Helen’s laundry folding display took a good while longer, yet again catching me unawares my sexy neighbour paused, her slim body framed picture perfect behind the attic window, her pretty face wistfully gazing across the room through a stare of deep concentration, and that’s when the ‘proverbial penny dropped’, at last I understood the reason she’d stare into space, ‘Helen’s gazing at her reflection in a mirror opposite isn’t she!’
Placing two hands aside her hips, she all but swayed in a rhythmic arc, first to the left then to the right all the while eyes fixed upon a distant object perhaps a full body length mirror? Oh yes I’ve never been more certain of a fact in my life Helen was admiring her reflection of that I’m now sure, then catching me quite unawares how many more times can this happen? She smoothed her hands across the cotton tee shirt, palms gliding up and over two gentle mounds of pert peaky bosom, only pausing to cup hold and squeeze and why not for she possessed a shapely pair of tits.
My groin ‘bucked’ as if about to ejaculate creamy sticky semen, but I didn’t cum as pleasure giving chemicals coursed through my brain, I gulped hard to catch a breath because for truly the first time that humid summer’s evening, I sensed something near unbelievable was about to happen yes and oh my sweet Jesus yes, Helen began to remove a last remaining garment, with two hands gently clasping the hem of her tee shirt, in one flowing movement Helen drew the garment upwards over her head with long hair pulling messily through the opening, before tossing to one side. And there she stood, motionless, eyes transfixed to a reflection gazing back, very nearly naked with her mopped pubic hair, a pink slender torso and breasts enclosed within her brilliant white bra.
‘Yes a bra! And there’s me assuming women just don’t bother when at home?’
God knows how I didn’t cum, though I could hardly breath through cheeks burning hot and a heart racing so fast it was surely about to explode, and there Helen stood for what seemed minutes thoughtfully admiring her beauty with pursed amused lips and hint of girlish smile. Yes she appreciated her aged body because Helen was still a handsome looking lady, then just as my trembling hands calmed she reached behind, stretching her arms she fumbled the clasp on her bra band allowing the delicate garment of intimate lingerie to fall from her body, hoops of bra strap slipping down smooth skinned arms towards the floor.
And there she stood motionless, my sexy neighbour from across the road stark naked from just below her waste up, two gentle mounds of small pointy breasts and if my eyes didn’t deceive me I’d guess they were a double AA cup. Que the culmination of this evening’s excitement, almost the instant she dropped her bra I climaxed, came hard within my night time boxers shorts, and all without hand stimulation for remember they gripped my binoculars! Feeling my groin ejaculate warm sticky semen stream across my inner thighs, and if you’re really curious my first hands free orgasm at the sight of a naked woman.
Two thousand seconds had ticked from the alarm clock on the bedside table, that’s how long our strip show lasted, a voyeurs delight the like of which I’d only seen in ‘dirty videos’, and now as Helen smiled at her reflection, my breathless mind began to regain composure, feeling utterly exhausted I lent back perching on the side of my bed, nights such as these come but once in a lucky guy’s lifetime, and as for all you readers shaking their head and muttering phrases like,
“Dirty Peeping Tom!”
Remember the window I gazed out of this balmy summer’s evening is on my property, yes you could label me voyeuristic and pervy, but this view is mine to own and I would suggest to any lady undressing herself naked, perhaps it’s prudent to close one’s curtains first!
Though hold on just a second, there’s always the hope Helen knew I was watching, timed her attic room strip after seeing my silhouette pressed against the bedroom window, watching this spectacular thunder lightning show. Hmm maybe she wished me to watch? Perhaps she hoped I’d be naughtily masturbating at the sight of her youthful Grandma’s breasts? Who knows but those two thoughts amuse me to this day whenever we meet in the street, hmm are we both playing mind games of,
‘You didn’t know I was watching on that warm summer’s night……. did you?’
So how did my sultry evening’s tale end, I guess after minutes of looking admiringly at her nude reflection and why an earth not, well as abruptly as this theatrical show began, so just as abruptly ‘came’ the finale or as I’d like to muse Helen thought I’d seen quite enough nudity. Just at that point of orgasm she disappeared from view, the attic room turned pitch black and I placed the binoculars upon the window sill beside me. Yes this once in a lifetime finished with my pleasured body cooling, my conscious mind happy and spent I quietly watched tonight’s thunder show’s final climatic scene, the air temperature tumbled as cooling rain lashed the tarmac road opposite, so cold in fact I returned to my bed a satisfied but exhausted man.
😀 I gotta leave you with a question, if you caught a glimpse of a sexy person undressing in their bedroom, would you watch or turn away?
(I hope reader’s enjoyed my tale and for those who didn’t, a photo post follows sooon……… unless I change my mind………. which I often do!)
Are you familiar with that British culinary tradition ‘the fried English Breakfast’? I’d suggest even if you live abroad you’ll have heard us non vegans may well start the day with a fried egg bacon and sausage, a side order of buttered slices of bread and a steaming hot mug of builder’s tea! Now be aware I don’t begin everyday eating this ‘fat laden’ potential heart attack, but if I’m day tripping in London (for example my visit to Trellick Tower) I will attempt to find a High Street Café such as Sandro’s in Notting Hill N. London.
……… and NO this post isn’t another themed Trellick Tower!
I prefer to travel light if I’m out and about on a weekend, a rucksack camera waterproof jacket and a little cash is all I require, well after several underground train rides earlier this November, I walked a short distance into the heart of Notting Hill and happened across Sandro’s pictured below. A traditional English cafeteria which has all but disappeared from our High Streets, they do survive and can be found in large Towns and Cities but more often than not these cafés have been replaced by that culinary cancer that IS McDonalds………………. you’ll never find me eating a ‘Big Mac’ in these God awful ‘restaurants’, identical neon eyesores you’ll see the length and breadth of Britain devoid of all character and tradition.
Yes I agree Sandro’s doesn’t appear the most upmarket looking establishment from the outside, though once inside, heat from cooking stoves warming the coldest customers walking in from ice cold November Streets, this ‘homely’ café with white Formica tables and London photos adorning its walls, has a welcoming ambiance befitting the average working man or woman.
And I wonder is that Sandro himself preparing my breakfast behind his counter? No idea, lovely food though and ALL for a little over £5, which surprised even me knowing how expensive London is to live in these days! Burn every KFC and McDonalds to the ground that’s what I say, and let’s have a return to our traditional English cafeterias please 🙂 .
(I AM joking btw.)
Now I’m the first to admit I’m far from a particularly skilled photographer, but I’ll always have my small £8 eBay digital camera to hand (all the photos on this my WordPress are snapped by this internet bargain buy), and as well as taking photos of Brutalist 1970s Tower Blocks, I’m sharing pictures of London taken that same day………. not particularly noteworthy APART from I do enjoy looking at ‘naturalistic’ personal photographs, especially if taken by bloggers I follow from across the globe.
A London themed ‘photographic dump’ (a phrase the cool kids use) to follow.
Perhaps the reason for feeling so down these last few months is little easier to explain than Brexit, the never ending bombardment of truly apocalyptic awful news stories near drain the life out of me, so much so and truthfully I haven’t watched a complete edition of TV News in probably three years!
(Shameful, that’s truly what’s called sticking one’s head in the sand.)
And yes you did read that correctly, I’ll go further I seldom read Brexit news stories emblazoned across my workmates daily copy of ‘The Metro’ newspaper and ANNOYINGLY I have no choice at the moment, Brexit news stories appear on my laptop homepage and I cannot get rid of them! Yes I’ll Log-on to be presented with a feed of ‘personalised’ stories chosen by Microsoft because apparently I either need or wish to read them! I don’t, but there’s ALWAYS one story that will suck and draw me in, guaranteed to leave me despairing hopeless and thoroughly depressed.
Or perhaps the sadness I feel is that I’m nursing a belated broken heart, you see my father passed away last Spring and now after that first shock, days of funeral preparations, the emotionally draining cremation has long passed, perhaps my state of mind is little harder to explain than a delayed reaction? We weren’t that close and now I harbor guilty feelings……. but there you are life goes on 🙂 .
Brexit and personal grief are a ghastly combination enough to drain the life blood out of even the most optimistic of cheery souls. Then again perhaps my current downhearted despair is little harder to explain than I haven’t slept with a woman in what seems ages, after all the fleeting ‘pleasures’ a male’s righthand brings has its limitations! An afternoon with Diana would truly gladden the heart, rejuvenate and nourish my downbeat soul, I love her beautiful Polish mind and gorgeous body and seldom felt more alive than when laying beside this wonderful sexy siren’s naked body…………..Diana’s the most exquisite firm plump tits you ever did see ❤ .
Now lol I’ve truly romantic ‘powerful’ ballads performed by two icons of 1980s popular culture, Bonnie Tyler’s ‘Total Eclipse Of The Heart’ and Carol Decker’s ‘China In Your Hand’, they never fail to bring a cheer my sad soul and modern day classic tunes from my youth, just one thing! Make sure you turn up the volume and play them LOUD!!!
So let’s just say I win the lottery, gifted the riches to purchase the home of my wildest dreams and desires, which home do I choose? A quaint pretty cottage set within deepest rural Oxfordshire, a perfumed wild flower meadow with babbling brook streaming through long natural grasses, lazy days of watching butterflies and keeping bees or purchase a top floor duplex apartment in London’s Trellick Tower?
Hmm, I’m genuinely in a quandary deciding which to choose.
For fear of repeating myself you really should read my previous two posts if ‘this’ phrase Trellick Tower intrigues you.
(Five minutes later)
So you have returned, thank you 🙂 (oh and please note all photos taken by myself and feel free to copy if you so wish 🙂 )
So returning to my question which home do I choose? Well, as of this moment and similar to many a rich Londoner in 2019 I’ll purchase both, the idyllic country cottage for the weekend and Trellick Tower for living in Monday to Fridays……. though I have the feeling the shine and novelty would sooon wear off!
But Trellick’s renaissance isn’t a totally happy tale. Originally designed by Ernö Goldfinger as cheap social housing back in 1972, now that ‘brutalism’ has returned to being fashionable and in vogue, a sickening process of ‘social cleansing’ is taking place across London. Private equity firms are purchasing these concrete high rise living spaces from cash strapped London Councils, decanting poor renting families into cheap low level housing, then selling these Tower block apartments for millions of pounds! And here’s the irony, these until recently hated concrete homes in the sky built for the poor, are once again deemed cool living yet only affordable to the rich and wealthy.
And now to Ronan Point where the high rise dream came quite literally crashing down!
The now demolished Ronan Point, a 22 story tower block built as affordable housing, opened in 1968 but tragically partially collapsed soon after unveiling to residents and public. Poorly designed and shoddily constructed Ronan is the complete antithesis of Trellick built but a few miles away in Canning Town East London. On that fateful day 16th May 1968, only two months after Ronan’s completion, a gas explosion caused the collapse of one entire corner of the building (a resident lit a gas stove to boil a kettle), killing four people and injuring 17 this terrible disaster rocked people’s confidence in the safety of high rise living. A judicial enquiry soon followed leading to an overhaul of existing building regulations after uncovering design flaws associated with side wind loading, fire damage and small explosions..
Looking at the photo above I’d suggest the scars of bolted together walls also off-site prefabricated construction are clearly visible, a truly horrific photograph in so many respects leaving Britain’s housing dream in tatters, the consequence all Public confidence was lost in high rise living and has never returned even 50 years or so later……….. such an ugly building as well.
So what fate awaits Trellick Tower? Now Grade 2 listed and deemed architecturally important by the great and the good, this once reviled building is fashionable again, now privately owned and having been made from quality materials I’d suggest this iconic building will outlive me! And truthfully speaking I’m still unsure why I love this building so? All the more strange knowing that I hate concrete tower blocks with a passion.
I hope readers have enjoyed these three posts written from a personal point of view, if you wish a little more insight and detail then I guess the internet is the place to go!
Theme for this week is Trellick Tower, Notting Hill west London.
Brutalism, def: ‘a stark style of functionalist architecture, especially of the 1950s and 1960s, characterized by the use of steel and concrete in massive blocks’
….……… and by any stretch of the imagination Trellick Tower’s an exercise in Brutalism with a capital B!
I’ve been sightseeing in London again, though this time with a sole intention of seeing for myself Trellick Tower also for my first time, an image I’d seen in many a film, documentary and magazine photo yet had never witnessed in the flesh so to speak……………. viewing something you’ve so wished to see, but only ever seen previously via media is an emotionless second hand experience, only when you see a Cityscape (artwork) with your own two eyes do you know if it lives up to ALL the hype.
(I’d go further, add Trellick to your list of buildings to see if you ever visit Britain’s capital city and you’ll not be disappointed.)
Walking through the Notting Hill’s side streets, my eyes attuned towards the skies hoping for a first glance was an interesting experience, think for a second, how often in life are you consumed by an eager anticipation over an extended period of time? Hardly ever! You’re aware of a soon to be emotional experience, your imagination will be pricked alive yet you don’t know how you’ll react, BUT you know the reaction will be either excitement, incredulity, amazement, maybe a ‘what the fuck whatever’, or a total letdown disappointed…………. but not to worry my initial reaction as Trellick Tower loomed in to view, dominating the skyline above £2,000,000 homes was:
‘Wow, what a beautiful building………. yes I’m SO pleased I came to see!’
Trellick Tower bewitches me, fascinates me, I’m in love with this building so much so I’d do anything to live within one of those top floor self contained apartments for just one week…………. goes without saying because the views across London (I’ve never visited mind you) must be absolutely stunning.
Designed by the architect Ernö Goldfinger in the late 1960s, Trellick Tower is one of London’s most iconic Modernistic apartment blocks, deemed architectural important, and yes his name inspired Ian Fleming’s Goldfinger of James Bond fame (Fleming hated Goldfinger with a passion.)
These concrete monolithic tower blocks were the answer to Britain’s postwar housing shortage, brutalist architecture of the 1970’s now has a notorious reputation, more often than not they were poorly constructed by cash strapped City Councils, with the worst examples populating British cities up and down the land having long since been demolished, and I’d guess both former residents and neighbours living beneath those monstrosities whooped cheered and clapped as they watched them reduced to rubble.
However today 50 years later Brutalism is being re evaluated, the most hideous examples are no more and destruction wasn’t to be Trellick’s final fate, remaining as a beautifully proportioned profile and I particually love the balconies looking across London, lucky residents although they do look extremely dangerous! Trellick Tower is preserved for the nation and according to a recent BBC documentary loved by the residents who live there, one glorious example remains to this day and to be quite honest I’m unsure why I appreciate this building so, an instantly recognisable icon joining an illustrious ‘grade listed’ club alongside notable examples such as The Tower Of London, Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle……………… and I might add a worthy of inclusion.
I’ll finish this evening’s post sharing (borrowed) photographs taken from inside but alas not by me, and WE all love looking inside people’s homes don’t we?
Now be honest, you’re all busy people, do you really want to read a blah blah blah blog where I list the reasons I stopped posting? No of course not, just so as you know I’ve reignited enthusiasm, there’ll be no sex and silliness (that’s a lie) and I’ll be returning with several London themed ‘photo dumps’ (that’s a term the cool kids use), in other words that’s sharing photos I’ve taken to you and I.
Been a while, so what have I been doing? Worrying about Brexit for one (sooo upsettingly depressing), reading blogs written by the (many) middle aged women writers I follow, and for the purposes of today’s post and several to follow, I visited London today, walked the City’s streets (note I’m not a hooker!) and ‘snapped’ lots and lots of photographs.
Only trouble is I’m unsure if any of you lovely people remember me since three months ago, of course you lol don’t? But not to worry as I’ve always said to myself, if at least one person enjoys reading an always original post written by moi, then I’m a happy Andrew.
So why visit London? To see for myself a British architectural icon that is Trellick Tower situated close to the Borough of Notting Hill, and yes that is the ‘Notting Hill’ movie of the same name starring Hugh and Rene, also home to the world famous Carnival. Incidentally the short video below features this 1972 Tower Block built to satisfy Britain’s post war housing shortage, Trellick is now a Grade 2 listed building, a structure recognised by people the length and breadth of Britain with a very short film uploaded onto my YouTube Channel.
(Are you surprised a concrete block of flats has preserved status?)
I’ve never seen this Tower Block for myself before today, it’s an impressive building all the more notable because every major City has been demolishing these grey concrete monoliths, poorly constructed, hated by the residents and quite rightly considered a disastrous exercise to provide cheap social housing for the masses, many have been pulverised to rubble. Isn’t hindsight a wonderful thing, Tower Blocks became synonymous with all that is wrong with inner cities, magnets for drug taking, physical assaults, isolation, deprivation, poverty, devoid of human scale and with a complete absence of (yes) private gardens so loved by the British public, all in all an expensive social engineering project that went disastrously wrong!
HOWEVER with London’s housing shortage now at epidemic levels, gazing out the coach window as the city scape passed by, I noticed shiny modern examples are rising lol like a phoenix from the ashes, with I guess many a lesson learnt?……… I do hope so! Yes Tower blocks are disappearing, yet Trellick remains and what’s more it’s Grade 2 listed which means the City planners CANNOT pull it down. Now for a confusing dichotomy, I for one love this important building which surprises me when I hate concrete Blocks of Flats so! 😀
My favourite blogger LA over at wakingupthewrongsideof50 has been discussing accents, by that I mean the spoken accents we all have, either a product of the surroundings we were brought up in, or a particular way of speaking imprinted upon us by our parents. As for myself and thanks for asking I have a regional shires accent, Oxfordshire to be more exact and more than a little rural when played back to my listening ear………….. and for some reason or other a Polish lady I work with has trouble understanding what I say? Makes me laugh anyways as she leans in because I just know she’s having problems!
I haven’t posted on this Blog for months now though I do avidly read the latest thoughts and writings from bloggers I’ve followed for many months, even years! But as for me I’ve kinda fallen out of love with life, I’d suggest the fragile human spirit isn’t strong enough having to live through Britain’s Brexit debacle, so much so I rarely watch the News anymore which isn’t a healthy way to live and guess what? I’ve started receiving Party political junk mail through the post………………….. can anyone tell me if there’s an election on the way?
(So unfortunately Boris didn’t die in a ditch after all!)
Oh yes returning to accents or the distinctive way of pronouncing language.
Reading through comments also replies to LA’s recent post on the whole written by Americans, I was struck by the number of commenters who were of the same opinion, namely we’re elitist towards certain groups of people based solely on the way that they speak. Yes we do judge one another’s intelligence dependent on their accent and yes regrettably we do assume certain regional accents are superior or inferior to our own, and I’d suggest will have a part to play on how far we progress in life, or our ‘given choice’ of employment.
Although distinct British accents are perhaps disappearing I have my favourites also those that grate on my ear so to speak. Sad to say I’m lol neither a fan of the ‘Liverpudlian’ or Birmingham’s ‘Brummie’ accent which does come across as slightly dim witted (awful to admit), though I do love the broad Yorkshire accent of my Grandfather and have a particular soft spot for a North Londoner’s accent………. cockney is a little tooo comedic for my ears and by that I’m not referring to Dick Van Dykes laughable rendition in ‘Mary Poppins’, no I have to admit I do love a North London.
So why have I attached Pink Floyd’s iconic video ‘Another Brick In The Wall’, to a post themed accents? Listen to this brilliant song and in particular to the chorus rendition sung by (and starring) a London children’s choir, and those attuned to British accents will recognise their North London pronunciation…….…. though lol I fear those ‘across the pond’ won’t think it particually noteworthy.
(As an aside I was their exact age back in 1979!)
Band Engineer Nick Griffin recorded the children singing the verse at Islington Green School, close to Pink Floyd’s studio. Alun Renshaw, head of music at the school, said later: “I wanted to make music relevant to the kids – not just sitting around listening to Tchaikovsky. I thought the lyrics were great – ‘We don’t need no education, we don’t need no thought control’ … I just thought it would be a wonderful experience for the kids.”
Renshaw apparently hid the lyrics from the headmistress Margaret Maden, fearing she might stop the recording. Maden said: “I was only told about it after the event, which didn’t please me. But on balance it was part of a very rich musical education.” Renshaw and the children spent a week practicing before he took them to a recording studio near the school. According to Ezrin, when he played the children’s vocals to Waters, “there was a total softening of his face, and you just knew that he knew it was going to be an important record”.
In exchange for performing vocals, the children of Islington Green School received tickets to a Pink Floyd concert, an album, and a single. The footnote to this tale is following a change to UK copyright law in 1996, the children’s choir members became eligible for royalties from broadcasts, and after royalties agent Peter Rowan traced the choir members through ‘Friends Reunited’, they successfully lodged a claim for royalties with the Performing Artists’ Media Rights Association in 2004.
So if there’s any conclusion to be made from this afternoon’s post, we all have our favourite spoken accents, we shouldn’t (but do) judge a person’s worth and intellect by the way they speak and yes Islington’s North London children’s choir is awesomely fabulous…………………. I do hope you listened!
I know I haven’t been around for a while, long story but not to worry.
Oh yes! A woman flashed her cotton panties at me today, so I’m wondering was lifting her dress accidental as I walked toward her, little more than her preoccupied wistful mind elsewhere, or lol was I the victim of a sexual assault? BECAUSE being serious for a second if I was to pull my trousers down in public, in full view of a pretty young woman walking toward me then I’d have some serious explaining to a Court Judge!
Nah of course not, pretty women can flash me their underwear to their young heart’s content.
I had intended to write a Post featuring the work of 1950s artist ‘Art Frahm’, why an earth would he wish to paint young women in distress at the point of her panties having slipped down shapely legs? What’s more at the most inopportune moment and in full gaze of bemused ‘lucky’ guys, talk about women in distress! Without Googling the reasons why? (I never do) I’m lost for words apart from a woman’s letter posted to a magazine’s editor, apparently this scenario was prone to happen in 50’s America simply because knicker elastic wasn’t as strong as it should have been!
Hmm, I’m NOT convinced.
Where was I? Oh yes I’ll never forget today’s young lady DELIBERATELY showing me her panties, a photographic image now hardwired into my memory for as long as I live……… hence the reason I had to write a blog along with all my other sexy stories.
Cutting a short story even shorter (busy lives and all), today has been Britain’s hottest day this year, hence lunchtime break I just had to wander into Oxford City center and women watch (judge me 😀 ) well I’d gotten but 50 metres from my workplace and what did I see on this gloriously humid sunny day? A young woman suddenly stopped 20 paces in front of me, there’s more! In one near choreographed movement, she lifted a hand toward her head removing a pair of spectacles, the finger’s of her other hand clasping the hem of a girly pastel dress, and wonderful for Andrew she lifted her dress in full view and proceeded to clean her obviously dirty glasses with the soft cotton fabric, and above her frigging WAIST I might add!
And yes TOTALLY unaware (?) this middle aged guy was but paces away gazing incredulously at her light blue pair of panties and long slender legs!
Life is a game of luck and chance and today was my lucky day.
I know I could hardly believe my eyes, still can’t, how I didn’t pass out there and then God only knows. Now with spectacle’s freshly cleaned, dress hem released and allowed to fall, the glasses were reposition affront a pretty face and she continued to wander past me as if the incident had never happened, there was no hint of a sweet smile, nope she didn’t even make eye contact, her unfazed expression betraying wistful thoughts and a mind elsewhere?
I must admit I’m at a loss as to why any woman would lift her dress in public, reveal her underwear with mobile phones camera’s poised to send an image viral. Who knows why, perhaps there are people in this world who LUCKILY don’t care what other’s think? Anyways when I retold this tale back at work to basically anyone who’d listen, their mournful envious expressions betrayed the fact they’d missed a highlight of 2019.
Seriously though, days such as these are a sobering reminder, a reality check that at age 50 young women wandering past me in the street wearing buttock flashing hot-pants, micro skirts and tight fitting crop-tops revealing shapely wobbly boobage, ‘tees’ with plunging cleavage are ALL fabulous to behold, lovely and brilliant except young lady’s such as these will be thinking to themselves,
‘Sad old man looking at my tits, you’re (nearly) old enough to be my Grandfather Mr!’
(Independent eBook review, in fact the authoress isn’t aware I’ve written this 😀 )
Attempting to write my very first kindle book review after having been absent from writing on WordPress since early June, is more than a little daunting.
Novelette synopsis (age18),
‘Ebby Scott has supressed her adventurous side far too long. An almost-thirty year old almost-virgin, she is given the chance to live out a life that has hitherto existed in her vivid fantasies and in the books she keenly devours. And Ebby has stumbled across the perfect place to help her unleash her erotic appetites.
Across each of three nights, Ebby faces her past decisions, her present choices, and gains a glimpse of her possible future as her sexual adventures become ever more steamy, satisfying, and liberating.
Meanwhile, her hopeful and adoring suitor Nick waits for her back at home.By the end of her three-night escapade, will Ebby return to Nick’s loving arms, or will she be unwilling to give up her new-found freedom just yet?’
I should begin by saying I’ve followed Ms. Libre Pavey’s blog for many months now, a gentle and eloquent writer she herself describes ‘Laying the Ghosts of Christmas’ steamy romantic fiction, all I can add is she’s not wrong! I’ll go further and admit to ‘hardening’ (come on work it out!) whilst reading in my garden, several arousals if truth be told my imagination drawn into Ebby Scott’s ghostly romantic encounters. Btw I’m reliably informed the difference between erotica and steamy romance, is the latter must have a story and this novelette is most certainly steamy romance with plenty of descriptive scene setting to hold my attention. Thoughtfully constructed around an original cute idea, enough atmosphere to engage my imagination with memorable lines such as:
‘………geometric squares of leggy jasmine and delicate wands of Japanese quince creating stark silhouettes.’
And plenty of beautiful naked breasts (for as you know I am a lover of ladies squidgy pink fun bundles, a breast man through and through), with pulse quickening lines such as:
‘….…..breasts tipped with jaunty cinnamon nipples, skin turned warm caramel in the low-lit glow.’
I should say at this point, Charles Dickens ‘A Christmas Carol’ is my very favourite work of fiction, in fact without fail I revisit this ghostly little tale every Christmas Eve for the past twenty-five years, and I did enjoy spotting the author’s clever parallels. Similarly written in descriptive staves with ghosts of past and present visiting Ebby’s bedroom, parallels not dissimilar to Dickens tale absent the steamy romantic sex goes without saying! As the authoress reminds us loosely based on ‘A Christmas Carol’ with even a little ‘Cinderella dancing at the ball’ thrown in, and here’s a thing being my first review I’m very conscious of not wishing to give tooo much away!
As an aside, Libre paley intrigues me because she’s one of the few ladies to dare comment my err sexually explicit posts, not only a beautifully skilled writer but I’d guess possessing a ‘naughty’ confidence, I guess I’ll never know! Hmm? Was my excited anticipation and eagerness to read because I avidly follow blogger Libre Paley, the lady being one of my favourite writers on WordPress probably heightened my reading enjoyment.
Thoughts aside, our heroine Ebby (the authoress) narrates the tale.
Ringing in my ears has been a little voice whispering “write a review but jeeze don’t give away the plot period”, and now I’m feeling perhaps I’ve sold you a little short? Not to worry, well paced sexually explicit and highly readable ‘Laying the Ghosts of Christmas’ was a most enjoyable read and £0.99 Amazon Kindle purchase well spent. 🙂
A. Shepherdson 2019 (My musings are a little ‘writing rusty’ tonight.)
I must admit I’ve been in two minds whether to publish yet another boob tale (said that before!) Blogger Lesley kluchin won’t be impressed and I don’t blame her, of all the lovely readers to reply Lesley isn’t adverse to giving Andrew’s virtual ass a written spanking, several occasions tooo, I love them!! I fear my sexist tales understandably challenge the lady’s mommy sensibilities also school teaching values and quite right tooo……… Still, Lesley’s a good looking woman for her age, just shows a woman can still be sexually appealing at age70😘 . (Btw she wasn’t offended when I wrote that because I’m a nice guy.)
Ok I’ve a breast obsession! I adore sucking caressing licking and gazing in wonderment, what more can I say? 😀
Seems an age since I’ve affectionately ‘objectified’ a woman’s body on this WordPress.
Omg summer’s finally arrived with a vengeance and Oxford city is crowded with (age appropriate) young ladies wearing fewer than usual, there’ll be micro cotton dresses revealing milk white thighs, hem lines sooo short that on a guy’s lucky day he’ll glimpse ‘cushions’ of knicker gusset captured in the breeze, and just imagine but for this soft delicate fabric I might see kitty lips moistened and glistening against the sunlight! The problem is I have to keep in mind I’m old enough to be their father if not older!!
Btw this has happened, I’m not complaining ladies but watch the skirt length for heavens sake my heart isn’t as young as it used to be! Or with the advent of #METOO am I deemed sexist for looking and enjoying?
Do you wish to know why I enjoy riding double decker commuter buses in sunny weather? (You know you want to 😀 ) I’ll sit beside a top deck window waiting for my evening’s ride to pull away from the pavement, with a forearm propped upon a window-sill I’ll gaze down at delectable University students (age18) and pretty female shoppers walking past, their animated laughter and chatter a joy to behold, better still and you just know what I’m going to share with you next, more often than not when hot summer days arrive, so do tight fitting tee shirts with plunging necklines and ample boobage jiggling their own merry dance.
And because I’m seated peering down from up on high I’ll watch out for the colour of their bras as they walk on by, and if fortunate I’ll see pastel blouses with their collars open and top buttons undone, omg it’s fabulous to be alive when gazing at milk white boobs nestling comfortably within cups of various sizes, and working down the alphabet from an A cup to a DD, on a REALLY lucky day and this only happens once in a while mind, when the angle of eyeline is correctly aligned and her cups are larger in size, then I have been known to coup d’œil a small brown nipple or two.
Now that we’re on the subject of ladies’ nipples and keeping in mind their SOLE function in life is so that a baby can latch on and drink mums’ creamy goodness so they’ll grow up healthy a strong, yum yum big deal………………..
(Ahh I’ve just had an idea! I’ve some ‘breastfeeding in public’ opinions that I’ll leave for another day 🙂 )
ERR where was I? Oh yes tales of peering down ladies’ blouses! Yikes could I get into trouble doing this?
However this sexy street theatre doesn’t last forever as our gruff diesel engine rumbles into life, alas my down blouse performance is over for another day 😦 that’s until I descend the upper deck stairs and I share this thought with you quite truthfully, again when luck is on my side (lotta luck required in my life, keep up!) A BIG breasted young lady has been seen standing waiting ready to get off, I’m hovering above looking directly down, and no word of a lie, a balconette bra separating two perfectly shaped breasts with her belly button clearly in view.
🙂 Btw she appeared like a vision one hot summer’s day last year, 😀 so ladies be aware!
Incidentally this saucy nonsense flows easily when I’m sexually aroused, why not try it yourselves dear readers? I should add the knicker gusset aided by the lifting skirt breeze scenario happened last August! Happy days 🙂 .
(Two ‘borrowed’ stock images which are NOT my own!)
No NO don’t leave me yet!! This post isn’t as dull as you’re possibly thinking 🙂 .
A recent blog Titled ‘English language rules and why they can/should/must be broken (sometimes)‘ captured my imagination.
The correct use of English language, where and when to apply correct grammar rules, increasingly fascinates because I’ve been ‘writing’ on WordPress for over a year now and who wouldn’t be! Though I’ll add one important caveat, the question ‘do I consider myself to be a ‘writer?’ Definitely sharpens the mind, hmm jury’s still out on that one, however Holly once described me a ‘conversational writer’ which I quite like 🙂 .
Now putting to one side a fun pet tale, she elaborates on her current choice of reading Titled Dryer’s English ‘An utterly correct guide to clarity and styleby Benjamin Dreyer.’ which is quite possibly my next Amazon.co.uk purchase, and quoting from her own words,
‘This man is my new-found hero. Basically he suggests we can, and should, break all the English grammar rules we have learned in school. Unless we can’t or shouldn’t.
His writing style is so conversational, you’ll absolutely forget immediately that technically you’re reading a guide to English grammar, and he’s so funny. I was instantly captivated.’
NOW for me this is where our tale gets really interesting, apparently Benjamin Dreyertalks briefly about a challenge he recommends all writers take part in. For one whole week he suggests readers eliminate the following words from everything they write, omg talk about laying down a gauntlet!
(Queue an accompanying drum roll)
Pretty (not to describe something or someone, but to say ‘pretty tedious’)
On the last one he recommends, “feel free to go the rest of your life without another actually”.
And you’ll guess exactly what I’m going to say next!
Well I read that list and thought to myself ‘Holy crap I’m a Serial offender, I regularly and repeatedly use every single word from that list and quite possibly almost certainly within all 195 posts on this my WordPress!’
I’m not joking for effect either and whilst I’m here I’ll add ‘Anyways’ to Benjie’s list, ‘anyways’ is my goto word for realigning returning a meandering train of thoughts ‘back on track’, without fail if my thread of consciousness has veered off topic the following paragraph will always begin with Anyways, perhaps you’ve noticed?
Anyways where was I? Oh yes my fascination with grammar rules, now I’ll share with you my one and only self editing rules, that before publishing this post I’ll check (then double check) I haven’t used the words ‘it’ and ‘it’s’ though I will use ‘its’. “Why so Andrew?” Well in my humble opinion the word ‘it’ is an irritatingly non descript meaningless word, not tooo dissimilar to teenage girls and their addiction to the word ‘like’. Incidentally I have this theory that because girls converse far quicker than their brain’s are processing, the word ‘like’ is ‘scatteredhere there and everywhere’ so allowing thought processes to catch up!……………. 🙂 In my opinion ‘like’ is a meaningless conversational fill-in word however absolutely adorable ❤ to listen to when you overhear teenage girls chatting.
Here’s a ‘fabulous’ anecdote I happened across recently and apparently a TRUE story, anyways it (lol) made me laugh 😀 revealing how intelligent thinking stops an ignorant stupid person in his/her tracks.
Picture this. The phrase ‘NIGGER’S OUT’ is written in spray paint across a large expanse of virgin wall.
Only later a sharp thinking passer-by adds their own brilliant observation: ‘NIGGER’S OUT (but he’ll return after his dinner)’.
Don’t you think that’s priceless insightful and an awesome reply?
(My apologies to Victoria for ‘woosing out’ on Chapter 14, and I know I owe Darnell a post sharing the reasons I don’t use writing Apps such as Grammarly………….. lol no one can say I don’t try to interact here, that’s half the fun don’t you think?)
Early evening thoughts with MILD adult themes…………. honest and respectful as always (comment if you’ve had your fill of my female sexual observations and objectification of the female human animal’s body)………….. my imagination I fear is out of control 7 o’clock at night, I’m incorrigible, my hardness is excited and twitching hence I write because these posts are fun and keep me interested when WordPress feels a lonely place……… 123 ahhh 😀
Does anyone honestly think this photo below is offensive?
A question for you, why is the female breast nipple such a big deal for a guy? And I’d agree with you ladies who say nipples shouldn’t be, after all they have one purpose in life to allow a nursing baby to latch onto the breast and drink mum’s milky goodness, big f#cking deal? Then babes grow into healthy toddlers…
‘Not a lot of people know this’ (a Michael Caine quote), but according to WordPress Statistics each and every single week, no less than forty-six occasions throughout this May alone! One particular post written by me June 19 2018 has been viewed from right across the Globe, and studying said statistics as I’m prone to do whenever bored, I can also tell you ‘that post’ is also my most viewed EVER!!!
I’m truly grateful and genuinely humbled btw.
Now I’m neither bragging or showing off, certainly not lauding this my original piece of writing as a gem of modern literature, (f#ck no), in fact I’m rather surprised this one is the most popular of all 190! So after a protracted prolonged build up I can tell you Andrew’s most viewed post is:
‘An open apology to women not wearing bras!’
So there you, in some respects I’m unsurprised a bra post is number one because internet aficionados tell us 90% of internet traffic is sex themed, not to worry though I’m rather chuffed and why not.
Two reasons for this evening’s ‘Blog’. Several day ago the fabulous LA of wakingupthewrongsideof50 noticed a blogging phenomena I’d not really thought about until then, I’ll quote in her own words,
‘Bloggers that gave up quickly: I noticed a pattern among them. Almost every one of them used the phrase “Join me (us) on this journey”. I have now decided that those words are the bloggers kiss of death. If you write these words on your first blog you are not going to survive.
As I have not done a research study on this, I can only give you my humble (?) opinion. When you use the word “Join” you are specifically writing to an audience. You expect that people will listen. Bad expectation.’
LA’s Join Me on This Journey post has itself become very popular amongst blogging readers because as she goes on to say, ‘anyone who has written for WordPress knows you blog for yourself’, with all your heart and soul you want to be read, to have followers, to be liked, to be commented and replied to, however writing for an audience is not the reason you blog.
Sadly (and yes I genuinely mean sadly) if you set tooo higher expectations of yourself, write with the expectation hundreds of people will read, then I’m afraid this will only make you unhappy because apart from a lucky minority (who work very hard btw) fame and popularity will pass you by. 😦 A sad truth and only ONE of many reasons why you have to write for yourself, though take heart people will eventually read and follow your writing journey.
I said two reasons. I’ll come to said second in a Mo!
I wrote ‘An open apology to women not wearing bras’ (did I tell you this is my most viewed ever?) For no other reason than I had an absolute blast possibly because it’s the type of post that gets me sexually aroused. Anyways I blogged this many months ago and ever since publishing week by week people across the Globe people have viewed (finger’s crossed enjoyed), and if there is a moral to this story then it’s write for yourself, embrace the creative process and whatever transpires is a welcome bonus.
Oh yes reason number two for this evening’s post! Well I have written yet another bra themed tale featuring women’s boobs and cleavage, which in turn gave me the reason idea to reblog ‘An open apology……….’ and why not ablogfromtheuk is my very own WordPress.
Tomorrow: ‘An open apology to women not wearing bras!’
🙂 A ‘penny for your thoughts’ dear Readers and NO this isn’t a sexual Post!
I’m curious to know if this photo below speaks to you? No SERIOUSLY, gaze at this woolly mammoth and I’d suggest after a moments thoughtful contemplation your emotional reaction will be similar to my own!! Well I’m hoping so, because my imagination struggles to appreciate this living breathing animal actually existed and isn’t a product of CGI science fiction.
So did you take a good long look at this majestic shaggy Beast? Imagined it roaming ice-age Siberia Tundra, or perhaps a similar furry specimen, with its small ears to limit heat loss in sub zero temperatures, following the route of the £1.5 billion A14 Cambridge to Huntingdon road improvement scheme.
You may be unaware a pair of ‘British’ mammoths were discovered here in 2018, and who knows perhaps the last two remaining species alive before receding glaciers covering prehistoric England pushed them into extinction!
So what an earth is the point to this evening’s Post? Baring in mind I know absolutely ‘diddly-squat’ about palaeontology, other than a great many Dinosaur skeletons have been discovered around Oxfordshire these past 200 years.
And yes, I’m genuinely mesmerised by these Googled digital images.
Several weeks ago my Workplace Human Resources Manager by the name of err Helen? (Her name befits my tale) ‘forwarded’ an email ordering me to visit and speak with her 9am Friday morning, nothing to worry about other than a general housekeeping chat and check up on how I’m feeling, lol a long story.
Now comfortably seated within her office, a cup of steaming coffee positioned on the desk in front of me, I’m silently looking across at this 35year old slim woman with mousy brown hair, pleasant in appearance and busying herself looking through Andrew’s medical records forward to her by Occupational Health. And yes I’d be lying if a wicked thought hadn’t momentarily crossed my imagination, visions of Helen bent forward over her desk ‘skirt pulled up, knickers down’ me giving her kitty ‘a good seeing to’ from behind!
‘Doesn’t everyone daydream of sexual possibilities with their work colleagues?’
Where was I? Oh yes woolly mammoths!!
Feeling bored and day dreamy, I glanced sideways through Helen’s office window looking across buff stoned University Colleges and distant open fields of South Oxfordshire beyond, a truly magnificent view for one reason! The 8th Floor of our Department’s workplace is in fact the tallest building across the whole of Oxford City, a ‘skyscraper’ constructed for unknown reasons many an employee has wondered about over the past 50 years.
“How an earth did the original planning application ever get approved, when Oxford’s strict planning laws limit buildings to no more than three stories tall?”
Visit the 8th Floor, and you’ll see unobstructed panoramic views of dreaming Spires,‘buff coloured’ Colleges and immaculate pea green lawns enclosed within high walled Quadrangles…………… jeeze, some Council Official must have been drunk at his desk the day this 8 story planning application passed through his hands?
Not to worry, when you are summoned to HR by ‘mousy’ Helen the real joy is admiring stunning City views through her office window, and it was at this moment I found myself momentarily whisked back thousands of years in time, near unbelievable vistas and visions of woolly mammoth giant elephant like beasts roaming across icy cold windswept Tundra landscapes, and what’s even more incredible these thoughts weren’t the product of any far fetched science fiction! I had to near prick my skin reminding myself these magnificent beasts ACTUALLY LIVED quietly plodding along (as elephants do) thousand year old tracks across this same land, and that truly blows my mind!
Then catching me unawares! Helen looks up into my face ready to begin her Friday cosy catchup conversation and with that all dreams of woolly mammoths disappear to be replaced by Helen’s lovely smile 😀 .
Clichés could well be a blog necessity, Creative writing ‘is a whole different kettle of fish!
Off the top of your head you won’t be able to answer this my question but I’ll go ahead and ask it anyway.
Oh sh#t! Excuse my bad language, wouldn’t you believe it I began this post with a cliché and come to think of it, ‘wouldn’t you believe it’ could be a cliché’ as well, hmm sounds awfully clichéd to me. Do you know what, I’m really unsure if I’ll be able to write another blog post ever again? 😀 , stop right there Andrew because you’re labouring a point and beginning to sound tiresome.
I’ve decided my new writing goal is attempting to spot clichés on my WordPress! It’ll be fun HOWEVER I’ll never be able to stop using them and perhaps they’re a prerequisite to blogging anyway.
Oh yes returning to that opening question you’ll be unable to answer, many months ago I happened across Ms. libre paley, quickly Followed, and avidly read her regular postings I’d both theme and describe ‘all you ever wished to know about creative writing and much much more’, and without trying to appear tooo gushing she’s a captivating (captivates me) beautiful read on WordPress…………… well she is! 😮 And I clean forgot what my question was?
(Incidentally a self published author)
Returning to today’s topic clichés and when to use and when not to use (jeeze I’m frigging addicted!), well this evening I read libre paleys’ (I’ll return to that apostrophe some other time)Eat your words, a truly absorbing post which for me is a little worrying reading, to begin with I’ll quote her Oxford English Dictionary’s definition: ‘A phrase or opinion that is overused and betrays a lack of original thought.’
‘They are bad news, go down like a lead balloon, and simply won’t cut it. In writing and any public speaking, we are advised to give them a wide berth, to avoid them like the plague or face the dog house. But are they a necessary evil?’
Any guide to writing will exhort us to avoid them at all costs on the basis they are trite, predictable, lazy, and the very opposite of creative.’
Six hours earlier this evening I published ‘I would vote for Donald Trump if he was British’ and please don’t bother reading, well I’d written no less than three yes THREE clichés in the first two line paragraph (and yes lazy writing). Now don’t go looking for yourselves because I edited deleted said paragraph there and then, the lady has a point, my clichéd introduction bared little or no connection to my slightly ridiculous proposition that I’d vote for Trump, who an earth would bother reading any further? The only possible drawback to Eat your words is that I’m now playing my very own game of ‘spot the cliché!’
A question I’ve asked my self many times over this past year or so, is ‘why do I loiter around WordPress?’ Well I’ll answer three ways, I enjoy the creative process, I enjoy the orgasmic thrill as I press publish, and honestly I gain real satisfaction from realising readers are actually enjoying what I have to say, honestly I’m quite humbled.
However believe me or not, I do fret over my limited writing ability and I realise I lack many grammatical skills, lol that’s not false modesty I’m quite happy and comfortable being aware of my failings because it spurs me on, exercises the old brain cells and forwards me to seek out alternative synonyms from time to time. Consequently it’s pleasing when the post reads how I hoped and wished it would read.
MY STYLE is little more than downloading the conversation in my mind at any given minute, that’s all good fun when it comes to entertaining blogging, HOWEVER downloading thoughts and opinions I’d define as tabloid newspaper reporting (and that’s OK!), true creativity is being enabled with the skills to write fiction and poetry.
I’ll share a writing tip of my very own (because I’m a giving kinda guy), it’s easier to write about sex if you yourself are sexually aroused, now where’s that hand of yours??
My apologies to William Shakespeare for adapting Prince Hamlet’s iconic phrase, (rather good though.)
My Topic for next week might well be Politics, we’ll see, as some of you are aware I haven’t voted in either General elections or Local Government elections since spring 2016, and as of now I’m undecided whether to vote this coming week.
Just be aware my abstaining wasn’t voter apathy, it was a conscious decision after Brexit.
On the 23rd may 2019 the United Kingdom’s voting public return to polling stations yet again, as if we aren’t sick to death of political elections, yes up and down this once great land we the people are being asked to vote in European elections, and the fact we voted Brexit in 2016 to leave the EU isn’t lost on anyone.
Politics! & Religion! Two topics I’ve promised to avoid discussing up until now, along with being open honest and always telling the truth on this silly little WordPress, I’m pleased to say I kept my word. One year ago I made a conscious decision to avoid political and religious issues because it’s depressing, strong dogmatic opinions upset people deeply, and however passionately someone tries to get their point across they will never win the argument.
‘Little different to an atheist trying to convince a fundamental Christian that God doesn’t exist.’
I’ve broken that Rule only once which I’m rather proud of, discussing politics in my opinion can be lazy writing, it’s as easy to rant and blow off steam and a tedious read when written poorly, yet I understand a human being’s existence is defined by his or her’s political views. So yes several months ago I wrote a post admitting I hadn’t voted in either Government or WODC elections since June 2016, incidentally I’m not proud of myself, now I’m asking myself will I cast my democratic vote on the 23rd?
To be quite honest I’m still unsure and if I do the choice may even surprise me!
I’m hoping my Title above has intrigued you enough to read this very personal Posting. I’ll try to be brief with my introduction BUT I always say that don’t I!!
Dad sadly passed away early April 2019 after a long illness enough said. Well as you’d imagine we as a family have been busy with banking and legal documents etc hence a very good reason to clear and tidy through his study draws. AND AS ALWAYS HAPPENS when someone passes away, we discovered many long forgotten treasures including the typed manuscript of a fictional novel the name ‘Jennifer’ emblazoned in red ink across a Title page, but that’s a whole blog post all of its own which I’ll leave for another day!
We also discovered a folder crammed full of newspaper articles from the 1980s which I for one had clean forgotten about, and a selection of which I’ve photographed and shown below. Our local newspaper is called the Oxford Mail, every Town and every City across the world has its very own newspaper, although the internet has very probably moved them on-line however the Mail battles on in the Newsagents reporting local news to local people.
Well it turns out in the early 1980s my father wrote a ‘Mail’ guest column once a week, fifteen or so editions only and approximately 700 words long, themed on a variety of topics from family also childhood. Interesting readable pieces written with humour and from life’s experience and IMPORTANTLY Dad didn’t earn a penny because the Oxford Mail are known to be stingy with money, HOWEVER be totally aware he would neither have wanted or expected to be paid, I’d guess purchasing the stamps with glee because yes my father wrote through pure enjoyment, and I’d guess many of you reading here and now will nod your head in agreement 🙂 .
Yes Dad wrote for love enjoyment not financial reward 🙂 and that’s today’s introduction sorted. Below I’ve copied one of his Oxford Mail published article’s called ‘Facing up to the student challenge’ featuring my brother and his girlfriend, the original is of course typewriter written and yes I am rather proud of these pieces of writing, who knows perhaps he’d have been thrilled I blogged his article on the internet?
I’ll leave you with one last thought, if Dad was alive and in good health today I’m positive he would have taken to WordPress ‘like a duck to water!’
Can you visualise days at Redbrick University in the1960s? All the male students wore coats and the girls were locked up in their halls of residence, not a miniskirt in sight.
(Blimey 😮 Dad was imagining miniskirts!)
An entire Term’s equipment could be transported in one large suitcase. This was heavy, admittedly on occasions fellow travellers on the 11.17am narrowly escaped with their lives when the case was swung up onto one of those silly little tennis racks they had in those days. The swinging sixties and the permissive Seventies (to say nothing of the Expensive Eighties) have changed all this.
Below are listed some of the items essential equipment parents of prospective students might invest in. Also included is some advice to parents culled from bitter experience.
Don’t allow your son or daughter to secure a place too far away from home unless gaining comprehensive knowledge of the road works on the UK motorway network is your forte. Preferably choose one far enough away to prevent journeys home to borrow money or best non stick frying pan, but not so far away as to make the transport of incredibly heavy cardboard boxes a problem. Gone are the days when a text book costs 15 shillings. Books like those used by the student coast about £40 a nicend a quick glance will not rivet the layman like a Jilly Cooper.
Driven to tears?
2. On the subject of transport, invest in a van of fair size. If this is thought absurd, try getting three guitars, a trunk full of dirty washing, fourteen cardboard boxes of assorted shoes, cassette tapes (remember those?), books, files, a monster packet of Sainsburys monster biodegradable washing powder, a small microwave, a cardboard tube containing a poster of Madonna, portable TV and spare parts for a Citroen 2cv.
3. Students reappear at the end of June ready to unwind. This however is the parents hardest time. Struggling to get the cardboard boxes into the loft is only part of the problem. A trip to Israel and Egypt with the girlfriend is in prospect…………… paid for with proceeds from casual employment.
Watch the telephone bill. Calls to the Egyptian Embassy in the daytime are expensive. The trip will begin at 8am from Oxford bus station, so say fair well to at least one nights sleep.
Two days before departure, realisation dawn’s the girlfriend does not know where Egypt is, let alone that a visit there is rather different from a day out in Bournemouth. Search the loft for a school globe to show her. Full to the brim with typhoid injections and quinine tablets, she will take fright at 11pm the night before departure. ‘Prisoner Cell Block 11’ has a marvellously calming effect and the parent can relate to it by realising the inmates are having a better time than he is.
Reversed charges from Tel Aviv cost about £9, so budget for them. Arrival back after a month is also at 3am. Cook egg and chips, make gallons of tea while you listen to stories of spells spent in Israel and Egyptian hospitals suffering from gastroenteritis which seems to be the main feature of the trip.
A last piece of advice for the parent is to give up, at least temporarily, alcohol and tobacco and embrace the conversation movement with open arms. A crafty cigarette in the garage will pass unnoticed, but don’t throw away the tube from a used toilet roll last the green police pounce. Pay the Poll Tax, but don’t attempt to justify it…………. and pay the students as well.
When your son or daughter goes away for the first time, things will never be the same again. It is hard to negotiate the path between idealism and the demands of this difficult world but one day it will all be worthwhile.
R. Shepherdson & A. Shepherdson 2019
(One final thought, just imagine living in an age of being unable to edit as you go and NO spell-check!!)
(As promised I’ve a literary historical photography post for you today, yes the Great man himself Charles Dickens.)
13th APR 2019 I day-tripped to London by bus, changed onto the Underground taking the train to visit the Home lived in by Dickens for two years of his life, years later in 1925 the home was purchased then transformed into a museum, and now a ‘time capsule‘ revealing how Victorian homes actually looked inside.
The front door of 49 Doughty Street, now entrance to the museum in Dickens time owned by solicitor Henry Pickards, is a magnificent terraced residential home only 5 minutes walk from Farringdon Tube Station, comprising three floors, a scullery kitchen basement, and also a ‘loft’ we tourists weren’t allowed to ‘peek’ inside.
Read my ticket date above, “just sayin”. The map I’m also holding is printed from the internet, a free publication describing in detail ‘walking tour’ directions from Dickens Home all the way to St. Pauls Cathedral (a British jewel of historical architecture), incidentally showing a ‘route’ considerably longer than I’d first imagined!!
Alas virtually all of Dickensian London has been lost to years of redevelopment, both progress also a consequence of rebuilding this great City after 4 years of Hitler carpet bombing homes, buildings and factories by his Luftwaffe……….. what was the point to this monstrous vandalism? You tell me, on second thoughts please don’t! The truly surprising no unbelievable fact is Christopher Wren’s St. Pauls cathedral survived intact, incredible!
(There is a reason why, long story.)
On first walking through the front door to number 48, I was under no illusion I would be staying no longer than 1 hour, Dickens little known Museum is strictly for quiet thoughtful souls who wish to experience the Victorian atmosphere knowing this great man shared meals with his wife and children, wrote tales at his desk in the drawing room, endlessly climbed three flights of stairs the entire day (two up one down) and yes made love to Catherine in the master bedroom……………….. well come on yes he did!
Belowyou see amap essential to making ‘head and tale’ of today’s post, look carefully and both a floor showing three levels including the basement, also the various rooms inside 48 Doughty Street London, incidentally I was charged a very reasonable £9 entrance fee. Enter through blue door number 49, then once inside walk through a door into number 48 their family home.
1 Entrance Hall
The busy household passed back and forth on errands and social visits. Dickens often made, sometimes nightly, walks through the City he called his ‘magic lantern’. His neighbours were professionals, architects, writer and artists. yet the law courts, workhouses and slums fuelled his writing were but a short walk away.
(Remember Dickens was both a social and prison reformer, his father had been earlier locked up in a debtors prison, and Dickens would himself demonstrate outside Newgate Prison situated a mile up the road, in fact he was instrumental in having prisoner hangings moved to behind prison walls to the public’s disappointment!)
2 Dining Room
The location and grand architecture of the house was ideal for launching Dickens socially. This elegantly curved room played a key role. As a rising author enjoying his first flush of success, he entertained many leading figures here.
Pictured above, a dining table and bowl displaying any number of ‘plastic fruit’, Dickens bust hanging from a wall, and a lovely young lady tour guide wearing a very becoming ‘black and red’ check shirt! And yes I made a point of chatting to her 🙂 because I’m very friendly that way 😛 .
Remarking “you seem very tired” as she yawned 😮 , the young lady smiling answered “yes I am”, then standing one foot on the bottom staircase, hand resting upon the banister about to climb up, I turned grinning and said “this way to the bedrooms?” Well she actually laughed out loud finding my enquiring rather amusing (or because she was Dickens bored), all good flirty fun 🙂 don’t you think? You gotta at least try and make women laugh even if SHE IS thinking ‘jeeze he’s old enough to be my father!!’ 😀
3 Morning room
Catherine Dickens used this family room to arrange household matters, spend time with the children, welcome visitors and write letters. As a Dickens travelled often, much of their daily communication was in writing. Surviving letters show their happiness as a couple then.
Stepping into the second ground floor room I’m now standing in Dickens Morning room, as I said earlier I wasn’t under any illusions, there’d only be so much to actually see wandering around someone else’s home, but standing in his writing room is quite a magical experience, standing affront Charles’ writing desk reading a page written in his own hand, knowing he possibly quill penned tales of Scrooge and Tiny Tim, Oliver Twist and Fagin, Pip and Miss Havisham possibly three of the greatest tales ever written, I truly sensed the standing on hallowed ground feeling or is that a little pretentious?
That desk sits affront a window probably because rays of natural sunlight are considerably brighter than the gas lights hanging from the morning room wall, I can attest to the rooms gloominess and the reason why my photos are slightly grainy……….. Tourists are banned from using a camera’s flash!
(Descend one flight of stairs into the kitchen.)
The servants prepared the family food here, managed by Catherine Dickens, the mistress of the house. Traders came in and out with supplies. Victorian Kitchens were often low lit, home to vermin, and filled with heat and smoke from the cook’s fire.
Above 5 photos: The ‘cast iron’ cooking range, a dresser displaying china plates, looking upwards through a window onto Doughty Street, looking back through a doorway towards the Washhouse, and glass bottles standing on a shelf.
…….. and who knows what evil chemicals they contained in Victorian times?
5 & 6 Scullery and Washhouse
The maid washed clothes and dishes here, and cleaned around the house on a demanding schedule. Dickens’s sympathetic portrayal of servants endeared him to domestic staff around the country.
7 Wine cellar
Dickens wrote about both the pleasures and harmfulness of drink. At home, he kept a good cellar to lavish his guests.
8 Drawing room
As a child, Dickens improvised performances for friends and family. As an adult, he delighted in hosting amateur theatricals. In a later home, he had a rom made into what he called ‘The smallest Theatre in the World’. From the 1850s he would take his book readings to the public stage, becoming a celebrated solo performer.
9 Dickens’s study
Dickens had a strict routine, writing without distraction from breakfast to lunch. Then he might visit his Club, work on one of his charitable projects or take a long walk. He filled this room with a vast collection of books.
Below looking out upon the rear garden, and at current London property market prices helped by number 48’s provenance, I’d suggest this home is worth 2 digit £1,000,000s?
Above two notable and extremely famous artist prints hanging from a wall, to the left Dickens a middle aged man seated in a chair. To the right the Ghost of Christmas PRESENT seated upon an enormous pile of presents, clutching a lantern of Christmas spirit in one hand, and lecturing Scrooge as to the error of his ways!
….………….then again he could reminding Scrooge that phantom number three, the grim reaper incarnate follows sooon!!
Staircase (Between First floor & Second floor)
Below, photos pointing upwards to the master bedrooms & looking back into the Drawing room.
10 Mary Hogarth’s bedroom
Dickens experienced one of the most upsetting events of his life here, the death of Catherine’s’ sister Mary Hogarth. She was s 17 years old and apparently in good health. The shock devastated the family. Dickens struggled to accept the loss of someone he considered pure and good. The sentimentality of death scenes he later wrote is rooted in that traumatic even.
11 Master bedroom
While living here, Catherine Dickens gave birth to Mary and Katy. She would go on to have 10 children by 1852. Dickens separated from Catherine in1858. But when they lived here, they were largely contented and shared this bedroom.
Pictured below, and standing beside the Master bedroom four poster bed could be Catherine Dickens herself looking out the window onto Doughty Street. On the bed you see laid out garments of period clothing, whether the stockings belong to Charles or Catherine I have no idea………… but I can tell you two of their children were conceived here, yes Victorian sexual intercourse!!
(I’ve often mused ‘did Charles visit local side streets and sample the infamous Victorian ‘two penny knee trembler? Don’t be tooo shocked upstanding fine gentlemen visit brothels!)
Hmm pictures above remind me of that ghostly little book ‘A Christmas Carol’ once again, remember a frightened Scrooge sitting upon his four poster bed, the curtains drawn around to keep the three spirits at bay, no? Well why not go read this wonderful novel and see for yourself 🙂 .
Incidentally, I read ‘A Christmas Carol’ on Christmas Eve every single year.
Pictured above, is yes a reflection of myself taking a photograph towards the dressing wardrobe mirror………… alas my youthful head of hair is a ‘long ago’ distant memory!
12 Dickens dressing room
Dickens washed, shaved and dressed here. In 1840 the historian Thomas Carlyle described Dickens as clothed fashionably rather than ‘well’. This ‘fine fellow, Boz’, he wrote loftily, has ‘clear blue intelligent eyes’ and a ‘face of the most extreme mobility’ topped with a ‘loose coil of common-coloured hair’.
13 & 14 Nursery and Servants’ bedroom
The attic was the domain of the children (Charles Junior, Mary and Katy) as well as the servants, away from the more public spaces of the house.
I didn’t take any photographs of either the Dressing room, Nursery or Servants bedroom, there’s only so much culture you can ‘snap’ in one day.
(Regular readers to this WordPress will be aware I would never ever EVER! Make fun of a woman for a readers pleasure, no most definitely not. Yes at times I can be err a little out there 🙄, but just be aware I adore these mesmerisingly delectable creatures, and note I’ve spared the reader of actual photographs, 😊 and I’d guess you’ll be thankful for that!!)
One of the saddest true stories I could share with this WordPress involves a girl, a 17 year old girl I used to attend secondary school with many years ago, her name is Karen (for this post) and NO this isn’t one of my tales of an adult nature.
Karen was rather short with wide hips though not overweight, and far from being a plain girl she was attractive and unremarkable and I don’t mean that in a nasty way, 95% of the population are unremarkable and average looking, I am you are, what I’m trying to say is if life had turned out differently, Karen with her blondish hair may well have worked in a Bank like her mother, married say an electrician, their destiny to birth two children own a dog and live happily ever after on some middle England housing estate.
One November afternoon inside the top floor bedroom of Helen’s London flat, the curtains drawn in the middle of the day, the quiet hum of traffic outside, a smell of burning incense, candles lighting our room and me with only one thought upon my mind!