My wife for once free of pressure at work, spending time with me, planting in the garden together, playing boardgames in the evening. Smiling and sharing. But the closeness having no sexual possibility. A philosophical point for me to ponder, other people can be utterly different from you, beyond your understanding, and it’s still fine to share a life with them. For me, sex lies elsewhere.
No text yet from Carol inviting me for coffee as half agreed after changing her flat tyre. Probably for the best, I can’t think how that would work out. Last night, lying in bed, thinking about something else, suddenly the whole scene with Carol replaying in my mind, her face and voice and demeanor casting an absolute spell, making me fall helplessly in love with her, now I can’t make her face come into focus when I try to remember it.
Ringing Jenny, my absolute comfort in times of sensual desperation. Straight to her voice message. Could be she’s with a client. Trying again periodically, same result. Probably means she’s gone back to Budapest to see her children, hope she comes back soon, I need you Jenny.
Logging onto the escort website, alighting on Peachy Bum. Sixty pounds an hour. Soft, pert and peach shaped ass for you to feel and fondle, then you can suck my nipples. We can french kiss, have oral both ways, no protection needed, and have unlimited sex, protected only. Have me sit on you face while you eat me and lick me everywhere. Cum as many times as you can. No extra charges. The photos in Peachy Bum’s gallery giving credence to her peachy boasts.
Ringing her cellphone, making arrangements. And now here I am, filled with excitement and slight nervousness and the sense of being alive, standing before an affluent suburban residential development, landscaped gardens and trellised walls, finger just about to press the buzzer to Peachy Bum’s apartment.
