Sexual Vindication

VINDICATED by the Daily Mail!

What is the world coming to?

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-2031498/Sex-Why-makes-women-fall-love--just-makes-men-want-MORE.html

More on this later.

The Vulva

Vulva is such a beautiful word. The more I think about it the more delighted I am in the sound of the word. Why on earth is there so much debate about trying to find an appropriate word for the intimacies of the female body when we already have such a perfect word in existence? It is such a pity that the English speaking world has not embraced the perfection of this word, but then again, is this really a surprise. For some, owning up to a decent word would mean owning up to the fact that there is such a thing as a vulva hidden underneath pretty little panties, and that would never do.

I mean, if women started to appreciate their vulvas, where would it end?

Heaven forbid, they might be so delighted with what is sitting in perfect balance and magnitude between their legs that they might actually end up asking for it to be seen to. Can you imagine that– a woman who contentedly admires her own vulva enough to want it to be stimulated? The next thing you know she will be asking for sex, often against her instinct just because she knows the capabilities of all that lies beneath. Once satisfied with the delights of penetration, she might stupidly want more, like being loved once in a while, or having sex that goes beyond the sexual and into another realm of sensuality, desire, passion and heaven forbid, love.

Perhaps that is why men have discouraged women understanding and getting to know their vulva. Perhaps that is why women have been so reluctant to explore their own bodies for fear of the eruption of feelings that go way beyond the physical.

The power of this piece of equipment, when gloriously intertwined with the mind is too much for most people to grasp.

But vulva it is, and vulva it is that we should really get to know, intimately. After all, how can you truly share yourself with another in every way that you both desire if you cannot even look at your own body parts and love it just as a man loves his cock.

Would a man really want to touch himself, masturbate and spunk with his own delicate direction if he didn’t have a sneaking admiration for this incredible piece of equipment in his hands?

Men love their cocks. Some even go as far as naming them, as though they are an added extra in their lives, as though they are a person in their own right; their sexuality is a real thing and it is there in front of them to see.

Women, on the other hand, tend not to, which is why it was so brilliant to see an article in the London Evening Standard the other day about vulva’s and a woman’s personal exploration of her own body parts was such a refreshing surprise.

http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/lifestyle/article-23981319-the-naming-of-parts-a-new-frankness-about-vaginas.do

According to the article, the new word for the vag is “clunge”, as popularised in the successful television programme “The Inbetweeners”.

Once more, what is wrong with vulva?

The article within the link above is worth reading. It gives a clear indication of where Zenpuss would like to see the world going, i.e. that women become familiar with their own bodies and recognise the overwhelming beauty of what is inside them, for it is a fascinating piece of equipment that makes an erect cock look quite 2-dimensional by comparison.

It appears that those who advocate such feminine knowledge of themselves are coming out of the woodwork and declaring themselves.
In this piece, there is talk of a group of women meeting in Bethnal Green who are encouraged to explore themselves with a mirror, culminating in painting a picture of their most delightful feature. Others are even doing some needlecraft to replicate the beauty of their own vulvas, contributing to a large quilt of vulvas that is going to be displayed in Covent Garden at Coco de Mer. Wonderful.

Others have even made necklaces and other items of jewellery out of vulva shapes, and whilst they are not necessarily to my taste, I really like the idea.

Which is strange in itself. And yet, is perfectly understandable.

I mean, it would be a little strange if men walked around with a cock necklace. But in a way, nobody needs that. Men and women alike know what a cock looks like but even those who are practiced cunnilingus lovers may not fully take in the beauty and the form of the vulva. Besides, as these images of the jewellery show, you and I might know it is a vulva but others might just see it as a beautiful flower or leaf shape. They are so dumb and ignorant about the female body that they wouldn’t even realise that it was actually the opening between a woman’s legs.

(I wonder if there are certain people who love lilies and irises, for instance, because of their similarity with the vulva, and yes, that thought has crossed my mind before).

Time to wake up folks.

Recently, I took some photos of my vulva and everything else down there. I took it on a decent photo so that I could have a quick look at myself when I was turned on. I hadn’t done it for far too long, almost two years, come to think of it, and that is appalling.

I actually think that women should be taking photos of themselves regularly to remind themselves of just how beautiful and stimulating/stimulated they are.

There I was, with fingers holding back my labia, stretching the lower reaches of my opening, so that I could get the lens in there to picture what was there.

It is genuinely beautiful, and I am certainly not the type of person who readily says anything positive about myself, especially when I am at a low ebb.

But it is, subjectively, beautiful.

The intricacies are stunning, the folds of skin are soft and tender, especially when they are smothered in lubricant or even cum. The massive eruption of the female erection is fascinating; almost like a delicate, pink and rippling cock with its foreskin taken back. Utterly bewildering, and I suspect that the majority of women don’t know that even exists let alone have had the experience of seeing theirs in explosive action.

There is detail beyond belief down there between your legs and nobody seems to want to know why or how each and every section works down there.

I implore you, men and women alike, to get down there and do some filming whilst your body is aroused. You will be amazed and delighted in what you find; little holes that secrete love juices, wriggling worms of wonder, layers of beautiful skin dying for sensuality to satiate.

I love my hole being tampered with. I love tampering with it myself. I love taking photos and sending them to a person I know will appreciate it, partly because it is mine, partly because it is a thing of beauty irrespective of the rest of the person that goes with it.

I am not professing to have the most perfect vulva, or the most exciting, or the most inviting. I am not saying that it is massively different to any other vulva.

But it is mine.

It is the epicentre of my sexuality, along with my mind that gives it such force and passion. It is therefore the epicentre of my existence for without my sexuality I am not complete. It is the epicentre of my sensuality too. I need sensuality, possibly more than sexuality, and it is there in my vulva too. Yes, you need other parts of the body working in conjunction, but it is all there.

So I am going to finish this short piece by reminding people once more to do this thing, something that I have mentioned before on this blog.

Get down there, feel around, do it again and again until you begin to recognise the movements of your own body as they respond to your touch. Know what excites you and then you can share this with your partner or whoever else you are wanting to fuck. Take some photos. If you are at first timid, then just take a photo with your legs spread open. Once you have finally got used to looking at your outer labia, move these fleshy folds away and reach inside. Take the camera in and look. Then do it again with your lover. Get him or her to take some photos so that you can really see inside yourself, and then do it again when you are aroused. See the difference. Be excited by your own body and then enjoy the whole wonderful experience over and over again.

In the past, I have sent and received photos of a highly sexual nature. Personally, I love the erotic ones too. I have plenty of photos of cocks. He has plenty of photos of my cunt but in the act of sending, there is a different moment every time. I could receive a cock photo on the hour every hour for an entire day, but they would all be different because they would have been taken ‘in the moment’ and that is what makes it special irrespective of the similarity in photo to photo.

But do it girls. Do it women. Look at yourselves and be amazed at the difference it can make to your sexual experience to know precisely what is happening to your body when you make love or masturbate.

Well done all those people who are really doing this, learning about themselves and celebrating their sexuality.

Time to do some artwork methinks.

Older Women, NOT Cougars

So the conversation goes, “Women after a certain age are not interested in sex”. It gets worse. “Women probably live longer because they do not have sex after a certain age.

My response: if women after a certain age do not have sex then I am not sure that I ever want to be that certain age. Then again, by the time I reach it may be, and this is definitely a maybe, my libido might finally have retired to an allegedly appropriate position and not be screaming at me in the logical way in which it does in my current decade.

But it is an interesting thought. Why is that so many women after a certain age feel that they are not obliged to have sex or it is in some way unseemly to have a desire for sex? Why is this deemed to be such a tremendously embarrassing subject? Why would anyone consider it appropriate to have some sort of age barrier for sex at that end of chronology and life span?

And where do we draw the line? It is still appropriate to be sexually horny and virile when you are in your thirties. In fact, many would say that it is only in this decade of life that women come into their own sexually. It is fine to continue to be libidinous when you are in your forties, probably because most people are under the misconception that this is the last decade when a woman can be frivolous and exciting with their bodies. When a woman is in their fifties, is that too old to have sex? Have they gone off the idea and actually want a more sensual experience rather than full-on rampant excitement? Are younger readers now horrified at the thought of a 56 year old woman going at it hammer and tongue (oooh, yes please!)?

And what of women in the sixties, seventies and even eighties? What exactly is that magic number when it is not appropriate any longer for women to desire sex and have fairly damn fine sex? When does that happen?

The answer of course, like many issues associated with sex and other things, is that it is entirely up to the individuals involved. However, it is really important that we should not get into a situation where those who are still sexually active and have a fully operational and stimulating sexual experience in the later years of life are seen as some sort of freak or even worse, if that is possible.

I fully intend to be as sexual as possible for as long as possible, for as long as someone finds me attractive. If I am still attractive in my mid-seventies and some bloke happens to still want to, and is capable of dipping his wick inside my still very needy pussy, then I would only be too happy to accommodate, and there is nothing wrong with that.

Google “sex and the older women” and automatically, the first suggestion of a page is helpful tips. There is nothing positive to report here. It talks about dealing with erectile dysfunction and the importance of lubricants; hardly the biggest turn on in the history of mankind is it?

http://longevity.about.com/od/healthyagingandlongevity/tp/sex_tips_women.htm

Here is an example of some of the advice that is given on this page.

Try different positions: “Pain caused by arthritis or other condition can interfere with sex. Experiment with different positions”. It goes on to suggest that there are certain times of day when ailments are at their worst. So perhaps it might be better to have sex in the middle of the day rather than last thing at night.

Sensible advice I am sure but my point is that it is all assuming a stance of negativity. Where is the acknowledgement that women of a certain age, and I think we are talking post mid fifties here, still have a libido?

I return to my Google journey and get somewhat cautiously excited when the next page is discussing  older women and pornography, and sure enough there is a selection of older women and their pussies for all to see.

Some reader will already be thinking that this is an inappropriate site. We have moved on from MILFs and are possibly looking at GILFs. But I am politely informed that GILFs are equally as attractive as MILFs. And quite right too. Just because you have matured from mother to grandmother should not mean that you automatically become asexual at the first sight of your offspring’s offspring.

The next page on the Google search filled me with even more optimism. This is an article on sex and the older woman: “Why older women have higher sex drive”, but guess what, we are talking about the older woman being 45 years of age!

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,2007422,00.html

Admittedly, this article is not a bad one in so far that it explains a piece of research that has been carried out suggesting precisely what many of us already know, i.e. that between the ages of 27 and 45, woman are probably at their natural peak sexually, are more likely to have intensely erotic fantasies and are more willing to have one-night stands than their younger counterparts.

But look at the title of this piece once more. “Older Women!”

Well, I know that I am not necessarily in the prime of my life but at the grand old age of 45, I hardly think that I am old. Yes, I might be old in comparison with some. I might not have the freshest skin or the most perfect of bodies but I am certainly not old.

But then again, I don’t actually see my friends who are in their fifties and sixties as ‘old’ as such either. They are older, but not old, as surely being old is something very much in the mind of the person who thinks they are either young or old.

This article, therefore, is not about older women at all, and it certainly does nothing to further the idea that women over 45 have a right and a possibility of a decent sex life.

On the contrary, it suggests that exactly as I stated earlier, that women in their forties are likely to be more libidinous because it is their last sexual stand. Women in their forties are feeling so gorgeously sexual because, in the main, they are not yet into the full flush of menopause, please excuse the pun, so they are just having their final fling before everything dries up and they become washed out and ill-advised to partake in strenuous sex in case their arthritic bones go into a steeper decline than they clearly already are.

And so the Google search continues.

As soon as you mention older women enjoying sex, the most frequent word then used is “cougar”;

older women wanting to fuck younger men seems now to be the only way for women of a certain age.

But I am not talking about this. What I am talking about is older women wanting to fuck older men, or not even older men than themselves but men who are old like them.

Where is the evidence that this is not appropriate? Where is the evidence that these people in their fifties and sixties no longer have a desire for one another or for sex? Why is it so distasteful to consider that older people like to have sex?

Recently there was a sex education programme on television for young people. In an auditorium full of teenage testosterone and oestrogen, there were some people undressed on a stage. These people were of all age and all shapes and size. The oldest was in their 70s. If my memory serves me correctly, the young people were asked to consider how often these people had sex. There was astonishment and a certain amount of revulsion that the couple in their seventies had as much if not more sex than those who were a decade or so younger.

The two people involved were not some rampant hippies of a bohemian nature. They were just two people, average people, people who were ‘normal’ – whatever that phrase actually means.

But once more, we adopt this strange and inappropriate response to sex. We have assumptions and even thoughts thrust upon us by an uninformed society, giving us hopeless and irrational expectations of a natural demise in sexuality once we have gained a certain age.

Before everyone switches off completely, I am not so stupid as to dismiss certain biological issues here. Of course there may well be a reduction in libido after the menopause. Of course a man’s testosterone level may reduce with increasing years but neither of these facts mean that there automatically means there has to be a reduction in sexual activity. All it means is that there might be a change in sexual activity.

As the website suggests, perhaps those who are still sexually inclined could consider other forms of expressing their sexuality. Perhaps penetrative sex might not be as stimulating as it once was but there is nothing wrong with a healthy dose of mutual masturbation, or perhaps a few sex toys to liven things up. Perhaps older people might like to look at pornography together and enjoy their sexuality through the sexuality of others. Or alternatively, perhaps all they want is just decent, regular penetrative sex because guess what, people over a certain age are perfectly capable of getting a stiffie (and a prolonged one at that) and are perfectly capable of moistening up and emitting a delightfully watery orgasm from their aroused pussy.

This is fact not fiction, not made up. This is real.

Once more, we have to move on from these strange assumptions that are instilled in our minds.

Women are still interested in sex after a certain age just as men are. Women do not fall apart at the seams as soon as they have come through the menopause. They still have feelings, they still have libidos and even if they are not quite the same as the libido of a 45 year old, they are still very present.

My older friends and my friend who made such an announcement are still perfectly capable of having orgasms. She may not necessarily get the stimulation that she requires on a regular basis but she is perfectly capable of being sexual, as she full well knows but probably did not want to admit it in company, more’s the pity.

She is a woman who may not appear to be a particularly sexual person but from time to time, she knows that this is what she wants and needs and even if she only gets an opportunity to display and acknowledge her sexuality a couple of times a year, it does not mean that she is suddenly not a sexual person.

As for the statement about women living longer because they renege on their sexuality, well, I don’t know whether that is true or not, but as I said, I am not sure I want to be living too many years without sex once I come to the end of my life. It is not to say that sex is an absolute to continued living, and I think there is something very important to say about sensuality, about the importance of human touch and togetherness that is just as important as the act of sex, but clearly sex can be as important in later years as it is with younger generations.

I have often discussed the fact that sex and sexuality is often seen as a man’s domain. I have also said that I think that some of the women within the feminist movement got it very wrong when they decided that they would somehow sign up to this flawed way of thinking.
In some situations, it is the very same women who now will not embrace sexuality in the prime of their lives, who think that being sexual is in some way automatically reiterating the role of the woman as subservient, that are now going along with this notion that the 50 and 60  and 70 year old woman should not really be participating in sex after a certain age.

I would argue that perhaps now is exactly the time to really stand up for their right and once more have an opportunity to quash misconceptions and embrace sexuality late in life so that future generations realise that it is perfectly appropriate for a woman to want to be as sexually active as a man late into their lives.

And as the advice on the help page suggests, remember that women tend to outlive men, so if you are in a monogamous relationship and your man pops his clogs before you, and if you do not want to have another man in your life, then perhaps it might be advisable to start practicing a little bit of masturbation now.
This is seriously not being flippant. Women of all ages should know their bodies and they are never too old to start the exploration, irrespective of having a partner or not.

I sincerely hope that my friends in their fifties and sixties, irrespective of their relationship status are taking time to get to know their own bodies and fingering themselves or rubbing themselves, even if they don’t want to go as far as investing in a sex toy.

In fact, I think, as I have also mentioned in this blog before, perhaps I ought to open up a sex therapy consultancy whereby women of all ages can get to know their bodies, for I suspect that there are still many women who still have no idea what their pussies look like and are therefore not willing to consider themselves as the fully sexual people that they are.

And finally, as a woman who is happy to look at and touch other women’s bodies, I for one, am certainly not put off by the age of another woman. When I look at a woman who is older than myself, I do not think they are less beautiful or attractive for their age or for the state of their bodies. A woman continues to be attractive in the same way that a man does. It is all within the eye of the beholder.

I would happily fuck an older woman in exactly the same way that I am happy to fuck an older man if I am attracted to them and aroused by them.

Let’s  stop being silly about age. Let us certainly stop women of a certain age thinking that their sexual lives are over. Let’s stop them thinking that having no sex is a positive thing that could prolong their lives. Let us start reaching out to more and more people, young and old, to finally, once and for all, accept the vitality of sexuality in all of our lives.

And here endeth the lesson for today

The Mile-High Club with a Difference, Mademoiselle Sheila

Well I suppose we have to thank a few Craig’s as well as Sheila’s for this one because I doubt that a woman would have got this on board without a helping hand from a man.

http://uk.news.yahoo.com/flight-film-explains-mysteries-female-pleasure-053609899.html

According to the above extract, it appears that Qantas are leading the way in in-flight entertainment with a documentary about the Female Orgasm. This short yet relatively detailed French film (no stereotypes here, Sheila) is apparently available for all those crossing the waters on the big, white bird, with the kangaroo logo, who fancy having a little stimulation en route. No wonder Qantas is so expensive. I do wonder whether they have enough toilets on board for I am sure that if I had just happened upon this mid-flight, I might just need to relieve myself.

The film is fifty minutes long and gathers together a group of French women to talk about all things sexual.

http://video.google.co.uk/videoplay?docid=9215131779461901182

It ranges in subject from fantasies, female orgasms, ejaculation, the difference between a clitoral and vaginal orgasm and so forth. There are common beliefs and also surprises at the woman who insists that she has an orgasm every time she makes love.

“Congratulations!” the others say to her in shock and a certain amount of disbelief. Is this really possible?

The film opens with a scene that could have come straight from “When Harry Met Sally” but with a difference. Cecile is giving herself a vaginal orgasm. She is not stimulating herself with a dildo or her fingers. There are no cocks to be found. It is just her brain working in harmony with her body, ensuring the thickening of the vaginal wall that stimulates her G-Spot to orgasm. Pretty impressive.

The narrator asks the question, “Is this magic?”

The answer: not really, it is just that Cecile knows her own body so well that she is capable of doing this.

It is so sad that in this day, we still have to have a film that explains the actualities of the clitoris. If you approach the average person in the street, they will tell you that the clitoris is the small spot at the top of the labia that if caressed will give an amazing sensation. Many women STILL think that this is the only way that they will orgasm. What is worse, according to the film, is that less than 50% of women asked say that they have EVER masturbated, let alone do it regularly.

Of course, from this film, you will learn, if you did not know already, that the clitoris is not just a spot but it is a whole organ that stretches down either side of the vaginal wall; shaped rather like a chicken’s wishbone (you’ll never make a wish with one of these again without thinking of a woman’s body – lovely!)

It then goes on to explain how to achieve an orgasm, i.e. what actually happens to the body during orgasm; labia swelling, vagina lubricating, uterus rising, vagina expanding, labia changing colour, earthquake! Once more it reiterates that if you do not know what your body is capable of, then how can you really explain to a sexual partner what you really want.

So what, according to these women, does an orgasm feel like?

Liberated, a sense of release, intense pleasure, peak of pleasure – were some of the things that they said, and some said that it only lasts a few seconds. Poor girls.

“It feels like your whole body is alive” said one – everything boiling

"You can feel your partner from the tip of your toes to all the extremities"

How wonderful! I really like this quote because that is exactly how it feels. When you are making love with someone that you really care about, this is exactly what an orgasm feels like. Not only can you feel your partner but you also feel yourself in this way; a complete connection and a total oneness. That is what I am sure she was trying to say.

Throughout this film there are clippings of silent movies with women touching themselves and masturbating with one another. Occasionally, a man appears as well but of course you don’t see any erect penises – just one of my gripes about the movie.

The women move on to describe their fantasies and it is often common for a woman to adopt dominatrix tendencies in these. I wonder how many men have considered how frequent this is a desire of their female partner. I wonder how many women actually admit to this desire to overpower their men with sexuality.

Many spoke of a desire to have sex in unconventional places with unconventional people – as one person put it there is a ‘reek of heresy’ in sexual fantasies and there is nothing wrong with that, despite many women feeling abnormal in thinking in this way.

The film continues to discuss whether women are mostly clitoral cummers or vaginal, stating that in reality women have the ability to be both, although many of the participants in the film suggested that their most frequent and possibly best orgasms were through clitoral stimulation. Once more, it is pretty abhorrent to think that we need it explained that the vagina and the clitoris are linked and therefore, according to this, you need clitoral stimulation in order to reach a vaginal orgasm. Personally I’m not convinced on that one, unless the cock is rubbing the inside part of the clitoris every time it moves towards the G-Spot because I have certainly had plenty of vaginal orgasms without the clit being stimulated.

It then went on to discuss the myth of multiple orgasms. They suggested that the only way to get prolific and continuous orgasms was to abandon yourself completely to the desire for sex and possibly the desire for the person that you are having sex with. One participant described it as being “like a wave” with no sudden fall just an ongoing brilliance throughout their body. Multiple orgasms are “rare but they do exist”.

At this point, I am beginning to think there is something freakish about me. I have clitoral orgasms and have managed to give myself these for as long as I can remember. I have vaginal orgasms without clitoral stimulation and I have multiple orgasms.
Am I just fortunate or a unique woman? Not, I think.

The programme continues with the ubiquitous discussion about whether the G-Spot exists. Why do we still need such a conversation? It is as though the whole world is calling us G-Spotters frauds or liars. It is wholly unsatisfactory for people to suggest by the mere holding of such conversations that the G-Spot does not exist.
Thankfully, it continues to say what it is, where it is and also suggest other erogenous zones within the vagina, and yes, it appears that I have managed to get those working too.

At this point, there is a clip of a group of women on a sexual retreat in the South of France where they are discovering their bodies. Each are encouraged to get a speculum and a mirror to try and locate their own G-Spots, something of which I totally approve.

More discussion takes place about anal orgasms, as well as other erogenous zones in the body and sexual positions. It appears that most women orgasm better when they are on top or having it thrust inside them doggy style.

Lucky me again! I seem to be able to cum flat on my back as much as other positions.

And then there is the discussion about the big one: female ejaculation, the real taboo of female sexuality.

One woman was brave enough (brave!!!) to admit that she is a squirter “but it doesn’t happen that often” she said. When it first happened to her she thought there was something wrong with her, that she was going too far and ought to hold back. How sad! That is exactly what I felt and when I was constantly soaking the sheets I was a little embarrassed despite my lover telling me that it was perfectly natural and nothing to worry about but the doctor who then came onto the screen gave me a little cause for concern.

He stated that if sheets have to be changed then there is probably a neurological predisposition whereby the orgasm has such an impact on the woman’s brain that it affects the area of continence.

Gee, I have a neuro-disposition!
He continues to say that the fluid released is not urine but is clear, but is like a watered down urine with secretions from the prostatic gland which has chemical substances that are not found in urine.

So on one hand he is saying it is not urine and on the other he is taking it away by saying it is actually a watered down version of urine. Not that it matters. If it comes with a cum, then it really doesn’t matter what it is, in my opinion.

But the stuff about the brain intrigues me. Back to Wilhelm Reich, who incidentally has been dead for over fifty years and his work has still not been followed up in detail. The brain is a vital component to sexual pleasure but this man seems to suggest that it is an outcome of physical activity rather than an integral part of sexuality. Is it the orgasm that causes the woman’s brain to dysfunction to the extent that she becomes incontinent? Or is it the brain that works with the rest of the body to cause the alleged incontinence? And should we really be using words such as “continence” in this way? This man has already stated that there are chemical substances in female ejaculation that are not found in urine so why use this word which gives a surreptitious undercurrent of disapproval at the female ejaculate?

He makes up for it with his next statement.
“If the physiological hypothesis holds, we could say that the squirting female is super orgasmic”.

Great, I’m happy with that. I am now a clitoral, vaginal, multiple, super cummer, and according to this film, I am still in a minority because female squirter’s are few and far between and quite “particular”!

He continues to say that the female orgasm is no miracle. It is just a simple fact; harmony with yourself, uniting the mind, the psyche, the “so-called” soul and the body. This provides orgasm, he says “the trinity of harmony”.

Well duh! But at least it is good to hear other people expressing something that seems quite obvious, nay instinctive to me.

Then another specialist comes along and says this about desire and emotions.

“As long as you're afraid of your emotions and believe in emotionless sexuality, you're afraid of your feelings. So you should stop saying emotionless sex. It's a misconception and it's biologically incorrect”

What precisely does this mean? I think it needs a blog all of its own to untangle this one!

And so the film continues with remedies for different things, such as a dose of hydraulic acid (whoops, I mean hydrochloric acid but the thought of a hydraulic up your fanny has got me in giggles) into the G-Spot to make it larger, or more retreats that involve lifting weights to encourage women to think about what their bodies are capable of.

It talks of the significance of giving pleasure as much as receiving it; something again that is so important for my own sexuality. It talks of the need to release, to give oneself completely, although one woman stated that she could not orgasm and love simultaneously because it was giving too much of oneself. Interesting.

The film finished with an interview with a beautiful 68 year old woman who was very wary of being filmed and insisted that in order to participate she would have to hide in a field to do so.

She talked of her years being married and never having an orgasm.

Could you live without orgasms? The participants decided that they couldn’t, though one, Cecile, I think said that she could not live without sexual pleasure but orgasms was something quite different.

I agree.

But the woman at the end of the film had me in tears. After years of no orgasm, she divorced her husband but not for that reason, I don’t think. (Just as an aside, I wonder whether a court would allow a woman to divorce on the grounds of never having an orgasm with her marital partner).

At the age of 46, she met a man, and she had an orgasm. The relationship didn’t last but her eyes and everything else had been opened to the potential of her own body and mind and soul.

She said that it was like opening up inside. “It’s beautiful” she said, “Women who haven’t experienced it are poorer for it”.
He left her, with the idea that she never had an orgasm like it again.

“Beautiful story........... life goes on” she said masking the hidden tears that wanted to erupt from her eyes.

I cried them for her.

........................................

So there we have it.

Well done Qantas, and well done the film makers. It was a frank and open discussion about female sexuality. It was factually correct and scientifically relevant but did it go far enough?

I hope so. I hope that people can see that this is merely a taster. I would suggest that there is more that should take place and each of the subjects discussed probably need at least fifty minutes each.

I would love to spend time talking to women about their bodies, about their sexuality and about what they feel is important to convey to others. The six women who were discussing female ejaculations were shocked when someone admitted that they did more than dribble but this is not enough. Every woman is capable of ejaculating if we that do could only be given a platform to say that it is normal and that women should actually expect it to happen.

The woman who said that she had an orgasm every time she had sex was disbelieved. According to the film, only one in ten have an orgasm every time they make love. Such a statistic is abominable.

As for me, well, it is beautifully affirmative because I do still need to be convinced that I am not a freak and that I am not a raving nymphomaniac, though I am perfectly contented to be viewed as such. It is just that I shouldn’t be seen as a nymphomaniac. I should be seen as someone with a perfectly normal and healthy libido that happens to want a lot of sex, and that this is perfectly normal.

Suppression and denial are abnormal in any situation and when it comes to sex, it is downright stupid because I am not sure that any of us can function properly without realising once and for all the potential that us women have within us.

The Cello Keeps on Singing

So What Was the Ending?

In the real story, the one I read, the lover was ill and she killed herself as she had always planned to do so. The married couple continued to live together with the memory of their lover forever remembered through their thoughts and the artist that had painted the two women – a masterpiece.

Here we have various scenarios of how things develop and no real decisions having taken place.

Do we need decisions? Do we need to talk things through all the time?

In an ideal world, we would just live with the moment and see what develops but this story, as with real life scenarios are not that simple.

Literature tells a story, and in this case, it concludes as simply as it started – in the convention of monogamy, all perfect and understandable, easy for people to grasp, endlessly portraying this as the moral way, the right way, the way that we have all been conditioned to believe as the only way.

In real life, as in this story, there needed to be dialogue, there needed to be honesty, there needed to be trust and there needed to be compassion, patience, consideration and intelligence. I don’t think any one of us is so saintly that we can pat ourselves on the back and say we managed it well. I don’t think any of us are so evil as to have deliberately acted in a way to damage others. What happened happened, just as it does in real life, just as it did in this story.

But how could we teach and how can we learn from other conclusions to this story. Perhaps there is no conclusion. Perhaps the author chose his mode of completion because there never is a way out. Yes, they could have all gone their separate ways. Yes, they could all have lived together in this ménage a trios with all the shadows and rays that such an existence could give. Yes, they could have changed their feelings for one another, leaving one of them bereft at the other two deciding that they could not live in the situation and they wanted a form of monogamy. Yes, they could have done so many different things.

Whatever the ending, each of the people involved would have had to face up to their dark side as well as their light. They would have had to do some clear thinking, and they would have had to consider the feelings and the thoughts of the people involved.

But most of all, they would have had to be honest with themselves and to themselves.

Greg was frightened. He was frightened of losing the most important person in his world and what was worse, he knew that much of this potential outcome was due to his own actions. If he was totally honest with himself, he’d fucked up.

Eleanor was elated. She, out of all of them, had moved on in terms of her own life, her own sexuality, her own being, and she could not return to being the dutiful wife without this freshness in her life. She was a new woman; a born again with all the overt and sometimes irrational dependency on this new way of being. Evangelists, irrespective of whether they are driven by a love for God or a love for life, are flawed by their exuberance.

Sophia, dear Sophia knew herself more than the others. She was a polyamorous woman and she was resolute in that, and yet, despite herself, she wanted one person only. Yes, she was happy and delighted to have sex and even relationships with others, for that is who she was, but there was this special person, and she resented the feelings that she had for this person. It was so out of character and she could not cope with just how much she wanted Greg, even though everything about her was telling her that this was not the way she lived life.

“So what now?” asked Eleanor much later.

“I don’t know” said Greg. “I really don’t know”.

And he really did not know. He knew he loved his wife. He knew that he got excitement from this other woman in his life but she could never ever give him the things that he wanted. If he had to make a choice, if he really had to make that choice, however difficult, he would choose Eleanor. His life would have such a hole in it if she was no longer there for him and with him, and he really couldn’t contemplate such an existence. But he also knew that he had to make some compromises if he was going to be able to live as he wished.

And Eleanor didn’t know either. She loved a woman. She couldn’t even comprehend how this had happened. She loved another person when all her life had been channelled into thinking that one man, one marriage, one person was all she would ever need.
And in many ways she was right, for her. One person was all she did need, only she hadn’t quite accounted for the fact that it could be another woman. And yet, as she looked at Greg she knew that he too was such an important part of her that she couldn’t turn away.

And guess what, Sophia didn’t know either.

Of course, all of the characters were flawed in their thinking but they all thought they were right. Thankfully, all of them accepted that monogamy was not for them so that was a real bonus in how they progressed. However, they all had a different belief in what polyamory was for them.

Greg wanted a polyamorous life but he wanted a special relationship to take precedence over all others. To some extent Eleanor wanted that too. As for Sophia, she had the intelligence to realise that she could live equally, however the reality was that she actually wanted Greg more than she wanted Eleanor.

Monogamy is complicated because of its impossibility but so is polyamory if it is not discussed and it just happens, running its course without really thinking of all the consequences of change.

The decision?

Greg was the first to speak. And they both agreed with him. Sophia and Eleanor’s affair was now open and known to all. They would all try to live together in harmony, not literally as far as housing arrangements and they would just see what happened.

When one of them got envious of the other two, they told one another immediately. They managed the situation in a somewhat contrived way, giving everyone equal space and being totally honest about how they were feeling and what they were thinking.

In time, the feelings changed. Sophia fell out of love with Greg but never stopped loving him. Eleanor realised that her love for Sophia was as much a love for her own sexuality than the person who had revitalised her but she never stopped wanting this woman or the exceptional love that she gave her, only Greg, she realised had more in common with her way of being. Greg still loved both women. Yes, his love for Eleanor was supposedly more significant but he had something with Sophia that Eleanor could never give him.

And so they lived, happily ever after, in abject misery with the darkness that overwhelmed them and in utter radiance when everything was just right.

But what really happened, because ultimately the darkness was going to overpower them because nobody can live within themselves? Somebody would get hurt eventually.

Solutions.

Greg and Eleanor were soul-mates. They had ignored the depths of their feelings and in some way had used this woman to release the energies and suppressed desires that they could not do with one another. There is always a greener side and they both chose to find an alternative with this woman but ultimately in the long run, they knew that their relationship was unbreakable. Sophia remained in their lives for many years, but eventually this free spirit would not be harnessed and she gradually moved away from them; no heartache, no tears, no scenes of torture or great demonstrations of angst. It just happened, naturally as all things should, leaving Greg and Eleanor alone, together to explore other forms of polyamory, and other relationships, which they both had.

All sounds pretty perfect.

Greg and Sophia could not deny that the initial sexual attraction that had brought them together was more solid than anything else. Yes, they had enduring love for Eleanor but it wasn’t enough. By this time, she had decided that she did actually want to spend the rest of her life with her husband but by then, the intimacy which had developed between Greg and Sophia was too intense. Eleanor, caught in her own infatuation with Sophia, had fucked up. And now she was lost for she lost them both in one another.

Greg and Sophia did not ever remain monogamous to one another. And they lived contentedly. In peace with their sexuality.

Sophia and Eleanor decided that lesbianism was far more exciting than a protruding cock and they turned their back on Greg and indeed all men. They joined the mass of women in Paris at the time and glorified in the extent of juicy cunts that they liked to dive into at regular intervals throughout their relationship. And they lived contentedly too. Greg meanwhile suffered and never overcame his distress at losing the two people who he had loved more than anything.

Sophia and Eleanor and Greg lived happily ever after.

It is strange. I cannot come up with a decent ending that does not include destructive emotions and a breaking of the spirit of one of the characters, except for the notion of them living in the moment and not having great angsts about the future. But ultimately, I feel that I am so conditioned that each ending ultimately comes up with the need for one significant relationship above all others, such is my own notion of polyamory, such is my own desire, I suppose. However, even in this, there is always another person, there is always the need for others in the lives of these characters and maybe we should take some refuge in this as a fact. We all need others, be it for sex, for entertainment, for just being with another person to ensure that we do not slip into dependency for one.

...............................................

I don’t know how it ends. I don’t even know how I would want the story to end, though I do know that I don’t want one of the main characters to cop out by jumping off a cliff, however much the dark waters beneath sometimes feel tempting.

We cannot cop out, none of us, even those readers who are in a monogamous relationship and intent on being so for the rest of their lives.

Relationships are complicated and to dismiss their intricacies, their emotions, their feelings as just mere life is not quite right.

Back to Zen and mindfulness and loving kindness; compassion and wisdom and oneness.

Without these elements, there is nothing.

A Happy Ending

A Happy Ending

“So what now?” asks Eleanor much later.

“I don’t know” said Greg. “I really don’t know”.

............................................................................

Who wants a happy ending? Is one person’s happy ending the same as what other people would want? Are people prepared to compromise without having to compromise being themselves? If one person compromises, will that really ensure a happy ending?

Greg wants one thing, his wife another. Sophia isn’t sure what she wants but it certainly seems to be different from what her two lovers want. Have they all got the wrong ending in order to ensure that they live contented and fulfilled lives? Can they really live in a vacuum that is so far removed from the so-called normalities of societal existence and the expectations of relationships?

In such situations, something has to give. In this situation, they all want something slightly different. So do they all have to compromise? That would possibly be the fair thing to do but in doing so, would any one of them be content?

There are hundreds of options for our characters now. They could live quite happily together in this ménage a trios if each of them realised a few home truths; that even though one of them loves one  other more than they love the other one, they could simply be honest and acknowledge this and work together in perpetual openness to ensure that they do not hurt one another. They could have a total honesty so that when one of them felt that they were seized and strangled by destructive emotions, they could explain their problem without fear of alienation, resentment or misunderstanding. In fact, they could be acknowledging that each of their shadows is there, that the shadows are not wrong, that every dark side in every human being has some validity, however irrational it may appear to the other people involved. Respecting light and dark and showing a little bit of empathy is somewhat vital in such situations.

They could choose also to keep everything secret. Greg could state that he does not want to have sex with Sophia any longer but secretly maintain their relationship. Eleanor could do the very same. But secrets have a nasty habit of being discovered, as many of us know to our cost. And whilst little lies are often made for the alleged benefit of protecting a loved one, it is no real love to do this. No relationship can be enduring once even an ounce of dishonesty is introduced.

They could choose to fluctuate, understanding that even though they all feel resolute in their current passion, they accept that this might not always be the case; that Greg loves Eleanor more than he loves Sophia might be true now but it might not always be the case, although his love for Eleanor will never fade completely.

Or they could choose total separation; each of them realising that this is an impossible situation and there is no alternative other than to walk away for the sake of all their sanity.

But which one will they choose? Will they be able to work this out together in honesty? Have they really been honest with themselves as well as one another, trying to identify precisely what it is that they want?

Here are some possible ‘happy’ endings. Oh how I have come to hate that word as much as others hate the word ‘love’. What exactly does it mean to be happy? Isn’t this as trite as defining the word love. Happy is a high and we cannot all live on a constant high however much we think that this is the pinnacle of existence.

........................................................................

Greg’s Solution

Eleanor looked across at him.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” she asked somewhat tentatively.

“That was wonderful!” he said, “truly wonderful. Here I am with the two most beautiful women I have ever met in my life, loving them both, desiring them both, and still that is not enough”.

“But why is it not enough?” asked Eleanor, looking towards her beautiful lover who was clearly dropping into despondency at the rejection she felt was imminent.

“I don’t know” said Greg. “I just cannot explain it. Everything rational in my mind suggests that I should be the most content man in existence and yet, I feel bereft”.

Greg continued to explain as best he could as to how he was feeling, and what he was thinking.

“Do you both want honesty? This is all I can give, whilst recognising that this is the honesty of this moment and this moment alone. I have just made love to the two most precious people in my life.
I adore Sophia’s sexuality. I love her rawness and instinctual passion for life. I love her passion for me for I am an egotistical being. I love the newness of this relationship. I love the feeling of composure that I get when I am with her without any other complications in life. And yet, I love Eleanor more. Eleanor is my constant companion; the person that I have chosen to spend my life with, and I still want to do that, I still feel an intense connection with her that no amount of passionate and fulfilled sex can provide. Is that daft? Is that stupid? It is not that I cannot have sex with her, it is just that I haven’t had it like that and yet, even without this, I want her more”

Greg explained that he felt excruciating jealousy at the thought of his wife being intimate with another person, and was appalled that he felt even worse about this because she had chosen to have sex with another woman. It was as though he didn’t know her. Today had been the first time that she had performed fellatio on him and yet within weeks of meeting this woman she was perfectly happy and prepared to muscle her tongue into her cunt, onto her clitoris as though she was born to do just that. He couldn’t get his head round the idea that this woman who he thought he knew was a completely different sexual human being.

But he could overcome this. What he felt he was not going to be able to overcome was his wife’s increasing intimacy of a different nature with this woman. He was jumbled up inside with irrationality and fear. The fact that he could totally understand why this other woman was so absorbing merely added to the intrigue of why he could not accept things as they were.

“So what do you want?” said Sophia, fearing the worst. “What do you really want? Can you possibly answer this right now? Maybe you ought to stop yourself from making any further proclamations until we have spent a few weeks together thinking this through and living with new feelings that might ensue?”

“You are right, as ever my love” responded Greg. “We need some breathing space. We need to see how we feel in a couple of weeks or months. In the meantime, I suggest that we all live together in this unusual threesome of ours and see what happens, see how we feel, and hopefully we won’t come to blows too often when the trio of green-eyed monsters are all battling hopelessly with one another”.

So Greg suggested that they all live as they were, obviously with the change being that he now knew about the sexual intimacy between his wife and his lover. He would continue to spend some days making love with Sophia, as would Eleanor. Perhaps they could agree to have a night or two each with this woman whilst also embracing this new sexuality of Eleanor’s into their relationship.

And if they felt comfortable with it, perhaps they could all spend one night a week together, fucking the essence in and out of one another.

The women agreed with this as an interim possibility so they kissed one another, made their breakfast and prepared themselves for this new way of life.

But Greg was going to have to do some compromising. He was going to have to control his anger and frustration when his wife chose to spend time with Sophia rather than him, and he really was not convinced that he could do this for much longer than a few months, and if this meant that he too had to give Sophia up, then he would have to do that, but.......... he didn’t want to.

What was he going to do? What was the most important thing for him? Could he really do this?

......................................................................................

Eleaonor’s Solution

Eleanor looked across at him.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” she asked somewhat tentatively.

“That was wonderful!” he said, “truly wonderful. Here I am with the two most beautiful women I have ever met in my life, loving them both, desiring them both, and still that is not enough”.

She looked towards the open window and followed her eyes towards the freedom of the city. Paris was full of life. Paris represented her new life; a liberty that she could never have known and certainly could not have expressed in her home town of Chicago.

She loved a woman. How brilliant was that! She loved a woman who had opened up a barren part of her being. She wandered into Sophia’s bedroom, leaving her adorable ones alone in silence on the sofa. She walked towards the mirror and stared at her face, hoping that her image would tell her what to do.

She carefully unwrapped the silk gown, slipping the belt down to reveal the central part of her body. She released the cover and flopped it gently to the ground. Her arms by her side, she had a good look at her naked body for the first time in her life. Lifting her arm, she caressed her face, stroked her neck and followed her fingers as they cupped her empty breasts. She moved her hand over her nipples, flat palms going over and over this unknown part of her body. She slid her other arm around her waist and felt the curvature of her newly awoken body. Her natural inclination drew her towards the triangular perfection of her pubic hair and she reached down to feel the protruding button of her newly discovered clitoris.

This is who she was, a sexual woman, found for the first time, not by the man who she thought would be the only person to ever touch her this way, but by a woman; a woman of such profound understanding of life that she has seen the complete potential of this hidden womanhood within her. And here she was, not only loving a woman but also loving herself and her sexuality.

She looked on as she reached inside herself and felt the reminders of love-making within her body; his spunk, her expert fingers still tickling her imagination.

He was right. It wasn’t enough. What were they going to do?

Eleanor returned to the sitting room where Greg and Sophia were still sitting in absolute silence.

“I love you both”, she said. “I love you both. But I have just discovered that I love me too!”

They both looked up as she continued to explain where she was.

“ Sophia has awoken me. Greg brought me here to be awakened but I don’t think he had any idea that this is how it would happen. There must have been something wrong with me, with us that I felt so inhibited in showing myself to you, Greg. Why was it that I could make love to Sophia with complete abandon yet have to darken myself from you?
I love being touched by a woman and right now if I was forced to choose, there would be an easy response from me. I would choose Sophia - but of course, there would be such futility in that because Sophia doesn’t want me, she wants you” she added without malice.

“So you are right Greg. I have no idea where we go from here. Perhaps we ought to be sensible and not make a decision immediately. Perhaps we ought to see what happens naturally and not make any rash moves that we could all regret in a couple of months time”.

Sophia looked at Greg who was thinking, possibly along similar lines. Perhaps they ought to try something different.

“So what are you suggesting then Ellie?” he asked.

“I want to be with Sophia but I do not want to hurt you. What I would like to do is spend most of my time, my nights with Sophia. You can make love to her all day every day as long as I could spend the majority of my nights with her. This is what I want. Whether I can have it is dependent upon the pair of you, but I am being honest in what I want, however hard that may be.”

Greg looked at his wife. He supposed that he had been responsible for this. He was the one who had first moved out of the fidelity of their marriage. He could not deny that. He had caused the changes that were upon them to some extent now. Eleanor looked at him and knew that this was the case.

“And this is your long term desire?” said Greg.

“What is a long term desire Greg?” said his wife. “Right now, what is the point in desiring anything other than what we see and feel immediately? I have no idea what I want for the future. I have no idea, and yes, I am a little frightened by that. You seem to know what you want yet cannot necessarily give up the life that you have chosen in order to have the life that you think you want. I know that I want both of you permanently in my life but I really do not have any idea how this is going to happen.”

“You have my immediate solution, and it is up to you both to decide whether than is feasible”.

...................................................................................................................

Sophia’s Solution

Eleanor looked across at him.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” she asked somewhat tentatively.

“That was wonderful!” he said, “truly wonderful. Here I am with the two most beautiful women I have ever met in my life, loving them both, desiring them both, and still that is not enough”.

And ever the polyamorous one, if she was honest, neither of these two was enough for her. However much she loved Greg, and she really genuinely adored him, she was who she was, and she could not possibly give up her other lover’s even if he asked her to do so.

But then again, could she? Was the love of this man, was the intimacy with this man that she felt so absolutely convinced about enough of a stimulus in her life to give up her polyamorous ways? Possibly. The greatest love etcetera? Giving to receive? It may not be that bad, especially if there was a third way, especially if he would allow her to love Eleanor from time to time too. But of course, none of this was possible because he, her adorable man loved another more than he loved her.

It was hopeless and it looked as there was no possible outcome to their situation.

What could she do?

“I’ve made a decision” she suddenly announced. “I love Greg in a way that I have not experienced before. I love him with a passion that hurts far more than the ephemeral instance of being ‘in love’. That ‘in love’ is a sickness, awash with all sorts of emotions that cannot be controlled. It is a passing phase. It is a dependency and a sham. But this is not how I feel about Greg. My love for him is far deeper; it is enduring and it is unconditional. That is a choice that I have made through prolonged thinking on the matter. It is totally different from being in love and therefore is potentially more damaging to me. I know he loves you Eleanor, but he does love me too. However, I cannot love him and you cannot love me in the same way that you love one another.

Honestly Eleanor, you are a little in love with me rather than loving me the way Greg loves you. And actually, if I am honest perhaps I am more in love with Greg than this complete intimacy that I talk of. So as far as I am concerned, there is only one alternative here.

You two need to be together. I am not going to desert either of you but I am going to release you to develop the sort of relationship that you should always have had; a complete being sexually, spirituall, emotionally, full of wonderment at one another whilst discovering your true selves within and without one another. This is the greatest love I can give.”

They both looked at her with horror and bewilderment.

“What on earth are you saying?” they said simultaneously.

“I’m saying that I have my own life and that you have yours. I can be part of it and I am looking forward to some times in the very near future where we can all enjoy one another in friendship and in sex in the future, but you two need to discover your rediscovered selves together, and therefore I need to take a step back to enable you to do that. If you both discover that you are not as compatible as you once thought, then we can reassess the situation, but for now, your relationship is the most important. You have both changed enormously since being in Paris and you need to decide what you want”.

“So no more cunnilingus?” said Eleanor in horror as well as a mock.

“No, and no more fellatio either, not for now – just a friendship that I know will endure. You are the most important people in my life and I now need to leave you be for a while”

...............................................................................................................

But these are only three outcomes. There are many more, and what did happen next as they worked things out? Did they follow Greg’s idea or Eleanor’s? Could they really let Sophia do this?

What would you do?
What would you really want if you found yourself in such a situation?

I’ve given up on thinking as no amount of thought provides any sort of solution.

TO BE CONTINUED

Another Ending

The story so far............

An American couple in the 1920’s decide to move away from a spiritually and creatively bankrupt USA and travel to Europe where they both feel that they are ready to join the Bohemian writers’ of the Left Bank of the Seine.

Arriving in Paris, they soon join the set of ex-patriots and enjoy the wild and heady heights of late drinking in cafes together with a very decadent style of living. Everyone appears to have copious lovers and sex is all around them.

The wife has had a very conservative upbringing and is quite shocked at the promiscuity she witnesses. The husband is less shocked and completely confident of his fidelity.
On their first night in their new apartment, the wife is shocked to see two people in the courtyard fucking. She has never seen anyone have sex. She has never even seen her husband having sex because she always does it in the dark and he has never really seen his wife naked, not properly. Poor sod, no wonder he dropped his trousers as soon as he was asked to by the utterly beautiful and bewildering woman who shoved him into the nearest cubicle, lifted her skirt and doubled over to take it from behind.

Interestingly, it is not only the husband who is infatuated with this woman. The wife cannot take her eyes off her and soon finds that she too is overcome with passion for the woman, although she is terrified that she might be turning into a lesbian.

The woman who is fucking the husband is bisexual and takes a fond look at the wife, deciding that she wants to strip her of her sexual prudery. She really likes this woman and is shocked when she finds out that she is married to this bloke who she has started to ‘fall in love’ with. However, this does not hold her back as she has already formed a relationship with the woman that she wants to become sexually intimate.

The wife, on a weekend away with these new friends, discovers the woman and her husband having sex in the garden, mesmerised by the rawness of it, disappointed that she has never had this type of sex with her husband, intrigued why she is so turned on by watching it. In a fit of jealous rage, she asks a neighbour who is also at the party to fuck her, and again is so surprised at her ability to cum, mainly due to the arousal of watching her husband fuck this other woman whilst still feeling very cheated.

Eventually, after some consideration, she goes to the woman’s flat and leads her into the bedroom of her husband. She decides that the greatest love possible is to allow her husband to be the person that he truly is and give the woman to him. Simultaneously, she begins an affair with the woman too.

So this woman is fucking both of them without the husband knowing that the wife and his lover are at it too. He begins to get suspicious of the growing affection between his wife and his lover and follows them around town. Eventually, he lets himself into his lover’s apartment and finds his wife and lover fucking madly and clearly enjoying the experience massively.

He is distraught. He realises that he loves his wife more than anyone in the world but cannot give up his mistress. His wife realises that she loves the mistress more than anyone in the world and is not prepared to give her up for the sake of the marriage. The mistress loves the husband more than anyone in the world but does not want to come between a man and his woman. It’s all a bit of a nightmare, and who is going to sort it out?

......................................................................

Well, there are various possibilities. The chosen one was that the two women, having been discovered leave the man in the apartment and go off for a night on the town. Whilst they are gone, he magically discovers his lover’s diary, which informs him that she has a nondescript terminal illness and she has weeks to live. He searches for them once more and weeps in his lover’s arms as he confesses to this knowledge. She begs him not to tell his wife and she decides that she is going to go away to London on the pretence that she needs help with her morphine addiction.

They wave her off at the Gare de Nord and she travels to the next station, where she is picked up by another mutual friend who drives her to the coast where she jumps off the cliff in her beautiful red dress.

And the man and wife live happily ever after as in all good Brother Grimm stories.

But isn’t this a little bit of a cop-out. Here you have an intriguing scenario that is glibly and simply disregarded, possibly because the author did not know how to end it in any other way. I wonder whether he did think of alternatives, or perhaps he decided that he didn’t want to write as much as it would take to resolve or conclude with another viable ending.

So I am going to suggest what could have happened and invite any reader to do the same....... in summary for a longer version is really required.

........................................................................................................

Greg opened the door and walked in to the apartment. There was no sign of Eleanor or Sophia but he could hear from beyond the bedroom door a familiar sound of groaning passion. He knew that sound so well. His cock remained stiff many a time to the arousing melody of his mistress being engulfed by the overwhelming strength of the orgasms that he powerfully provoked within her.

He knew she had other lovers but this one was clearly good at his job. She really was exceptionally turned on.

What should he do? Should he turn away? Should he sit and wait until she was finished, possibly masturbating at the sound of the cumming tide? Or should he go in and see for himself who it was that was creating this beautiful murmuring that was so intoxicating?

He stood by the door and cupped his ear to the sounds. The man was exceptionally silent for all he could hear was the voice of his woman, demanding more fucking, anticipating and asking for cunnilingus.

His curiosity could not be tempered.

He opened the door quietly so that he would not disturb his lover, though clearly she might be a little disturbed if she saw him hovering over her bed.

He walked into the room, still darkened by the hour of the morning, and looked in intrigue as he saw his lover’s arse raised in the air as she knelt down to give fellatio to her other lover. He moved closer, quietly, without discovery to see that his lover was licking cunt not cock; a beautiful cunt, smothered in dark hairs that his lover was carefully twisting her tongue through, moistening an already moist pubic mass that could happily have taken his fingers simultaneously.

He followed the line from this beautiful pussy, taking in the curvature of the woman beneath his lover, feeling the softness of her breasts with his eyes, wondering at the divinity of these erect nipples, seeing the arched neck of the appreciative woman as she danced her way to an erotic orgasm; her face riddled with passion.

Her face, her face, eyes closed, lost in perfect love.

“What the fuck are you doing to my wife?”

He tore the remaining and discarded bedclothes away from the bed and looked down in horror as his wife gushed forth a profusion of juices from her excited cunt. Sophia giggled nervously at the timing of Eleanor’s eruption, and turned to Greg with a smile.

“It looks as though I am making her cum, sweetie” was all she could say for the evidence was there for him to see.

Eleanor darted up from this unexpected intrusion, desperately clasping a pillow to her bosom as she did not want to her husband to see her in this state of undress. How incredibly bizarre!

“Greg!” she called as her husband and his severely reduced erection charged from the room in disgust.

He sat down in the sitting room and put his head in his hands. How could they do this to him? How could they possibly betray him to this extent? How could she be unfaithful to him? How could she bloody cum like that?

Eleanor and Sophia sheepishly slid into the room in identical gowns. Sophia sat besides Greg and gently stroked his hair, caressing his anger out of him. Eleanor crossed the room and stood nervously before him, waiting for what was about to come.

“How could you Eleanor!” he said quietly from his downcast lips. “How could you? I have no idea who you are.”

“I love Sophia” she responded. “I love her just as you love her. Why is my love a crime and yours a passion?”

“You are my wife! You should be faithful to me and me alone!” was the utterly unwelcome response.

“So it is okay for you to fuck Sophia but not me” she screamed. “It is perfectly okay for me to give you the freedom to make love to this woman but I am not allowed the same liberty?”

“No, you’re not” shouted Greg, portraying his disgust as well as his irrationality.

Sophia removed her hand. She could not believe that she was hearing this madness from the man she loved.

“Greg, you are not being fair darling. I adore Eleanor and all we were doing was enjoying one another with as much tenderness and passion as she has allowed you and I to have. What is the difference honey? I still love you. She still loves you. You clearly still love us otherwise you would not be so upset, or are you somehow humiliated by this passion of ours?”

Greg sat silently. He knew that Sophia was telling the truth. How could he possibly object to his wife taking a lover, even his lover, if he was doing just that with the very same woman? And she was right. Nobody’s feelings had changed, just circumstance. But he was angry. He was jealous. He felt possessive, more about a possession of Eleanor than of Sophia. And he and she both realised in that moment that he did not love his lover in the way that he loved his wife.

He looked dejected. He did feel humiliated but he could not understand why. He could not fathom how he could be so stupid as to resent this growing love between the two women in his life that meant more to him than anything.

They all sat in silence. Greg, having finally raised his head, leant back into the comfort of the sofa. Sophia looked on at him with her hand on his leg. Eleanor sat at the dining chair watching them both, not moving, understanding at once how much she adored them both, how intensely intimate she was with both, how much she longed for them both, how infatuated she was with Sophia.

This was a mess.

Sophia loved Greg. Greg loved Eleanor. Eleanor loved Sophia.

Greg loved Sophia but not as much as he loved Eleanor. Eleanor loved Greg but not as much as she loved Sophia. Sophia loved Eleanor but not as much as she loved Greg.

How were they ever going to come to terms with this? How were they going to break free from the destructive emotions that could break them all into dispirited pieces of emptiness?

More silence and more stillness. Nobody dared to speak.

Suddenly, Sophia rose from the settee, stood where both her lovers could see her, and threw the robe ceremoniously from her body. She stood there in all her bewildering beauty with her hands on her hips, staring from one to the other. She then sat down on the floor of her apartment, straddling her legs and started to dramatically and urgently fist herself, looking from one to the other and then abandoning all onlookers to the orgasm that she was about to have.

She lay down as the moisture erupted out of her, drawing an hysterical line of war between husband and wife.

She drew the ejaculation up her body, lining her stomach and her breasts with this torrent of water, smiling to herself in the climax she had induced.

Eleanor stood up, looked straight down at Sophia and discarded her robe in the same manner. Greg watched on. She then moved over to Sophia’s aroused and climaxed body and stood above her, fingers carefully shoved up her cunt. After Sophia’s display it was not long before Eleanor too was cascading eruptions of fuck juices out of her body, straight onto the pubic hairs of her wonderful lover.

The women both laughed at the power of their cunts.

Having cum all over Sophia, Eleanor turned to her husband. She stood in front of him and masturbated once more, with just enough distance that he would have had to move had he wished to touch her. As she felt herself climaxing once more she shot towards him and fired her juices all over his trousers.

He was soaked.

“For fuck’s sake, Ellie” he cried as he jumped off the sofa to remove his cum-clad pants.

Both women were giggling ferociously now and in spite of his frustration and angry passion, it was clear by the protrusion of his penis that Greg was as aroused as his women.

Eleanor took advantage of the situation, kneeling down before her husband and taking his cock in her mouth for the first time in the seven years that they had known one another. Her expertise of tongue and hand movement so surprised him that he snidely lurched an unnecessary comment out of his mouth.

“So where did you learn that from, honey?”

Eleaonor refused to rise to the bait.

“Instinct sweetie” she replied.

“Hell yes” said Sophia “This woman of yours Greg has the most superb sexual instinct. She fucks me better than a practiced whore from the Moulin Rouge. I’ve never seen or felt anything like it!”

“Oh so you prefer my wife’s fingers to my cock now?” he bitterly spat out as his erection still remained, as his wife still hungrily devoured his cock.

“Go my darling” said Sophia to Eleanor. “Pull on him. Jack him off. Hand fuck him hard”

Eleanor was expertly wanking her husband as her lover knelt down before her, moving her arms around her neck, kissing her passionately, making her way to her bobbing breasts, stimulating those delightfully piquant nipples. Eleanor continued, reaching out for Sophia’s kisses, lookin up at Greg who was finally lost in the sensuality of the moment.

“NOW!” shouted Sophia as she thrust Eleanor’s open mouth onto her husband’s cock just at the moment that an urgent spurt of white gunk poured out of this penis.

“Oh my goodness!” was Eleanor’s inexplicable politeness.

“Tastes good doesn’t it, honey” said Sophia as she stole some of Greg’s spunk from her lover’s mouth, feeling the tingle of anaesthetic on her tongue.

Greg collapsed into his chair, his penis still dribbling the remnants of his arousal.

The two woman collapsed on the floor but were soon embroiled in more sexiness as Eleanor took it upon herself to release another orgasm from Sophie.

“Are you two fucking insatiable?” shouted Greg, though with a distinctively different tone in his voice.

The women did not respond but carried on making love in front of their man, and all he could do was watch with the most immense satisfaction.

Once they had finished arousing one another once more, they both instinctively jumped onto the sofa, either side of their man, taking it in turns to sit on top of him, riding his cock for the next half hour, kissing one another intimately as they did so.

In the most incredibly arousing moment, all three of them came together as Greg spurted more semen into his wife’s pussy, as Sophia wanked at the joy of watching, as Eleanor reciprocated with her own flood of juices.

Together, they all flopped onto the settee in completion.

“So what now?” asked Eleanor much later.

“I don’t know” said Greg. “I really don’t know”.

.........................................................

TO BE CONTINUED