Love is the Drug....
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Posted:Jun 13, 2013 2:32 am
Last Updated:Jun 14, 2013 1:39 am
6688 Views
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....well actually "Lust is the Drug.." but I didn't want to spoil a good Roxy Music reference.
Some recent events and conversations have had me in a contemplative mood again. This time about why exactly do I persist with Senior Sizzle. On the face of it there is no logic. It is potentially dangerous, frequently frustrating, statistically unlikely and time consuming yet here I still am despite my professed intellect and pragmatism.
The answer is easy. There is nothing logical about it. My Senior Sizzle journey is a straight forward reaction to a primal addiction to passion and lust.
In my "youth" I was a fairly naughty (rather than bad) boy when it came to recreational narcotics. I did my fair share of discovering and learning and probably got very close to addiction before my self defence mechanisms kicked in. Nowadays caffeine and alcohol is pretty much as far as it goes from a stimulant perspective but I do think I may now have become addicted to the buzz that a passionate, unconstrained relationship with someone I am attracted to gives.
In its most unadulterated form (rarely available on the streets) this particular Drug leads to an almost uncontrollable desire to rip the clothes of your co addict within moments of seeing each other again. The only reasons you don't is because the anticipation just adds to the hit and because your average bar / coffee shop / restaurant duty manager outside of Amsterdam seem to take a rather dim view of the kind of actions that your addiction inspires.
Instead you explore the means to providing a passing relief to your craving - a lover's kiss, a gentle caress, an expression of desire. You watch pupils dilate, nostrils flare. You imagine. You contemplate. You desire.
I know the "Drug" analogy may not be particularly appropriate or sensitive but I have been there (or there about) and the visceral affects are remarkably similar.
Anyone able to offer a personalised counselling service or who just wants a fellow addict to feed the beast please feel free to get in touch.....
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I had a dream....
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Posted:Jun 4, 2013 8:23 am
Last Updated:Jun 4, 2013 9:26 am
6789 Views
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I once had a dream that everyone in life meant what they said and acted accordingly. I woke up in a panic as, if true, this revelation would force me to drastically rethink my whole outlook on life.
It was, of course just a dream as Senior Sizzle continues to prove on a daily basis. Thanks to the needy, flighty and fake on here I can continue to be my (amusingly) grumpy self.
(In case you haven't noticed it hasn't been the best day ever).
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"I'm ready for my close-up Mr DeMille..."
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Posted:May 30, 2013 3:37 am
Last Updated:Jun 27, 2013 6:50 am
7076 Views
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In recent days I have both changed my profile picture and had a "how you doing?" email from an old friend that has me mulling over the value and psychology of "photography" on Senior Sizzle and elsewhere.
My "old friend" - now sadly on another continent - had a passion for intimate photography, OK - home made porn, that I helped her indulge in a couple of years ago. As a result there are now a number of pictures of me in flagrante delicto out there on the interweb. As I was mainly a POV "prop" in the shoot this doesn't particularly worry me but I remember feeling at the time that the whole process was a little tiresome and I was only really only an indulgence of my partner's desire to "expose" herself to as wide an audience as possible.
As I did have a phase where I over invested in "boy toy" photography equipment and I have a half decent eye I must say that the results do look fairly good. Obviously not professional but none the worse for that. I do however have one problem with them, I find then far less erotically stimulating than other images that I an not involved in!
The lady in question was, and I suspect is - in my eyes - very physically attractive. She has wonderful breasts and though no longer in the first flush of youth worked hard to keep the rest of her body very trim. The images captured range from some fairly classy "disrobing" to "before and after" more graphic shots. The should have me stiffer than a treble Scotch but, because I was directly involved in their production, they don't. I have fond memories of the acts involved and of the anticipation created by the early stages of the process but that it it. None of the appreciation of the form or possibilities I see on other (somewhat less aesthetically pleasing in my opinion) things I see daily on Senior Sizzle.
Where does this disassociation come from? I know it isn't a general trait. There are obviously thousands of individuals on Senior Sizzle who get a thrill from knowing that the world and his aunt have seen them mid coitus with four co-stars and a small donkey. My friend got a visceral thrill from posting them (somewhere other than here I might add) in to the public domain.
Any thoughts?
I think it is mainly because of the participatory bit. As a simple observer (as I was earlier in the process) I can appreciate more the beauty and carnality of my friend. I don't think it is as simple as "body issues" either. I may be longer in the tooth than your average porn star but what is on show from me was quite functional and fairly well formed.
Maybe I am missing the point. Any exhibitionist readers out there that can educate me on what I can't see?
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Rampant Self Justification
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Posted:May 16, 2013 3:22 am
Last Updated:May 29, 2013 3:54 am
7424 Views
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I have not blogged for a while as I have been a particularly busy bunny in my professional life but a recent event has prompted me back to the "typewriter".
I was away on a business trip for a couple of days and, at the last moment, had my hotel changed on me. As a result I ended up in a comfortable, rather "old world" hotel which, as chance would have it, was also being used as "dormitory" hotel for delegates from Scandinavia and Eastern Europe for a conference. As this conference focussed on the female leisure publishing industry I found myself sharing a hotel with a large group of mid twenties to late forties, female, creative types with a strong Nordic influence on their looks and attitudes. Turns out there is a God after all....
Anyway, evening comes. After dinner with some business contacts I decide to return to the hotel bar and find it liberally inhabited with a range of the aforementioned delegates. I observe a little, establish a little eye contact and find myself in conversation with an attractive (married) lady from near Gothenburg.
With the addition of a little alcohol the conversation started to veer away from the mundane and in to sexual attitudes in different cultures and different age groups. While this was an interesting sociological debate it was also flirting of the highest order so I took the opportunity to explain my own attitude and choices with regard to sexuality. Rather than any awkward silence what I got back was a challenge. Simply put the challenge was "so, why would / should a woman sleep with you when she knows you are married?".
Since I was still fairly sober, stimulated (intellectually and otherwise) and am always up for a challenge I decided to use a little logical and deductive reasoning to justify my infidelity.
My reasoning (which we have to remember was mainly an intellectual exercise) went something like thus:
The basic premise is that any educated, intelligent and independently thinking woman actually has a duty to herself and womankind as a whole to sleep with me. Why? Let's break it down a little.
The counterpoint (at least for the purpose of my argument) to my chosen path of infidelity is monogamy, so, in order to justify my approach I must first disprove the veracity of monogamy. This isn't that difficult if you look at things from a historical perspective. If we look at the early days of human existence both sexes were apparently rampantly promiscuous. The primal drive to procreate led women in particular to be promiscuous in order to try and maximise chance of fertilisation by being inseminated by as many appropriate males as possible. There is even a theory that the soporific state that men often find themselves in post orgasm is actually a throw back to this era that allowed females to sneak away from their mate and find an additional member of the pack to offer some genetic diversity to the fertilisation process.
So, point #1 - monogamy isn't a natural state.
So, if monogamy isn't natural why does it exist? Again history comes to our aid. Female monogamy is actually a consequence of economics rather than anything else. As society matured it was men that accumulated resources due to their generally more powerful physical abilities. Jump forward a few millennia and we get to the state where only men could (usually) accumulate the wealth that could support a safe, relatively healthy existence. Women were subjugated in to what was sometimes no more than an expression of masculine wealth. Women became monogamous (usually not through choice) while men became polygamous as well as, in many societies, having the option to use their consequence of their wealth to fulfil there sexual desires outside of their subjugated pool of wives without any social censure.
So, point #2 - the concept of monogamy was created by men for their benefit and to subjugate women.
Now let's roll forward again by a few millennia to sometime more current. Society further developed and the access to resources became simpler and less concentrated but the attitudes and morals of the ancient cultures still persisted. One thing did change though, sex became less about procreation and more about physical pleasure. By the time we hit the "swinging sixties" attitudes in some places had changed but the overall societal response was still anti-female. A man who had multiple sexual partners was treated as a "jack the lad" semi heroic figure. A woman with multiple partners was (according to the silent majority) simply a slut with no respect for herself or her family. While sexual practice was no longer an economic consequence the underlying attitudes still undermined women and glorified men.
So, point #3 - women who restrict themselves to a single sexual partner are assisting in the perpetuation of the myth of male superiority and are, by implication, undermining the individuality and potential of other women by allowing the myth to endure.
Given these fairly self evident "facts" the conclusion is fairly simple. Any woman who chooses not to sleep with me on the basis that she is assisting (or participating) in infidelity is being unnatural, subjugating herself to the "power" of men and undermining her own gender. QED - participating in extra marital sex with me is an expression of the power and individualism of womankind and hence should be the duty of any intelligent, independently thinking woman. Easy really.
As I suspect you have gathered, by the time of the challenge the decision we had to make was already at the "my room or yours" level but working through the logic was fun as well.
So ladies, remember, when I make an indecent proposition to you I am only doing so for completely altruistic reasons. No need to thank me......
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Ohh the shame.....
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Posted:May 2, 2013 3:06 am
Last Updated:May 16, 2013 8:15 am
7614 Views
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To quote (and translate) the great Robbie Burns - "oh, what a gift to give us, to see ourselves as others see us"!
When I last rejoined Senior Sizzle I did the noble thing and extended by profile to try and explain myself and my ambitions properly. Problem is profile writing tends to be a spur of the moment thing and, on review, I am kind of wondering exactly what "moment" I was in at the time!
Anyway, thanks to the honest, constructive criticism of a couple of quite magnificent, intelligence, articulate and very sexy fellow bloggers (you know who you are) I have now done what I would advise everyone to do - gone back to my profile, realised quite how insanely OTT and self indulgent it was and tried again. It still isn't perfect I suspect but I hope it is now less likely to make my "target market" gag....
What has this salutatory lesson taught me I hear you ask:
#1 Don't try and be clever, it just sounds like you are a pretentious idiot
#2 Be explicit in the words you choose, not in what the words say
#3 Remember that this is advertising, too much self deprecation just makes you look bad
Again, thanks to those who pointed out my most obvious flaws....
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A hunting we will go....
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Posted:Apr 30, 2013 2:06 am
Last Updated:May 16, 2013 9:05 am
7543 Views
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So, forgot to turn off auto renew, ended up with another (unplanned) month so I guess I should make the best of it.
My question to blogland for today is what makes a good intro email that will tempt, engage and interest people that interest me.
I suppose I had better give some background to my current "method". I am a great believer in making my position clear when I approach someone. No I don't mean starting thing off with "fancy a shag" but I do try to make my circumstances part of my "pitch" so that no one gets confused and expectations are properly set. I always create custom messages. I read profiles, match interest and try and tailor something to what I think is our common ground.
I can spell (with the help of spellcheck), understand grammar and detest "txt spk" so I hope what I write is fairly lucid and easy to read.
I always include a "call to action" - ending with a question that I hope, if answered, will tell me more and give me a basis for future communication.
I tend to attach a picture, a rather formal. posed "corporate" shot. I do not possess any "dick pics" and don't intend to ever let one near my hard drive.
Where am I going wrong?
Since I have an opportunistic month I intend to take the opportunity, perhaps after all it is fate (though I don't believe in fate).
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Sound familiar?
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Posted:Apr 24, 2013 5:55 am
Last Updated:May 16, 2013 9:04 am
7865 Views
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Wander
Look
Wonder
Consider
Ask
Tell
Analyse
Banter
Flirt
Question
Answer
Evaluate
Request
Commit
(Reconsider)
Recommit
Hesitate
Leap
Smile
Relax
Laugh
Flirt
Relax
Repeat
Repeat
Explain
Respond
Repeat
Repeat
Repeat
Anticipate
Hope
(Pray)
Give
Submit
Tremble
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I Think I May Be A Woman....
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Posted:Apr 23, 2013 4:17 am
Last Updated:May 16, 2013 9:06 am
8160 Views
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...since I've changed my mind again!
Sorry - couldn't resist it, a hopeless stereotype and I suspect its use will provoke a far larger response than the rest of the drivel I post.
My change of mind? I am not going to stop using Senior Sizzle, I'm just going to change my use case.
Since my circumstance haven't changed I will be maintaining my philandering ways, I just won't be relying on Senior Sizzle as a platform for finding a fellow conspirator. (Turns out I may be more charming, interesting and enticing IRL than here!)
Instead I will restrict myself to blogging and commenting on blogs. Turns out all the good minds are here and, since they are good minds, the chances of me seducing them are remote so I'll go for the chaste, intellectually stimulating option.
Actually this is all just a ploy to make me sound more interesting and unobtainable, I look forward to a flurry of offers I simply can't refuse in my inbox soon 
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Reality Check
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Posted:Apr 19, 2013 3:03 am
Last Updated:Apr 23, 2013 2:00 am
8066 Views
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As with most things in life I suspect with Senior Sizzle you get as much out of it as you are willing to put in.
Recently I have to admit that my "hunting" has been somewhat lack lustre and,as a result, it has started to morph from a platform supporting my particular sexual needs and desires and more just a source of entertainment (no, not that kind of "entertainment", if just a little self indulgence is required there are better catalysts than this).
This realisation has got me to asking some questions (of myself initially) about what online "dating" platforms are really about. The first answer is obvious, they are about making money - principally from people just like me. After that? The ability to anonymously express your true self? A statistically possible (but not probable) way of find that someone who is on the same journey? A carnal "marketplace"?
Who knows? Not me. As I now suspect that my next renewal point will be the end of my active participation in the Senior Sizzle game I thought I might canvass opinion. What is Senior Sizzle to you? What do you think it is capable of?
I have had some great fortune (sporadically) here but I am now wondering if the cost / effort / benefit equation is somewhat out of balance.....
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The Position
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Posted:Apr 16, 2013 5:25 am
Last Updated:May 16, 2013 9:20 am
8355 Views
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To date I have tended to use this blog to add opinion, vent and generally show off. Today I offer something different. For a couple of reasons I won't share (for now) I have been inspired to try a little contextual prose.
What do you think? Want to hear more?
The Position
Although not timid the knock is certainly tentative. Not surprising really considering the circumstances but it still makes him smile. He opens the door and there she stands. Dressed demurely – as he had requested – make up light but highlighting the deep blue eyes that had attracted him to her in the first place. He stands aside and she steps past him in to the room. With the door closed he leans towards her and kisses her on the cheek, his hand at first on her waist and then slipping downwards on to the top of her buttock. A gesture of possession that, although she instinctively tenses, she does not refute. His hand slides to the base of her back and he gently guides her in to the middle of the room.
Hotel rooms like this are a necessary evil. He had been in too many over the years – sometimes a place of rest, sometimes of solace, occasionally an escape and often, as this time, a location of convenience. This one isn’t too bad. It has that overly plush yet still crowded feel that a three figure a night price tag tends to entail. Before she arrived he had spent some time ensuring that the space available would be put to good use. The almost entirely useless “occasional table” and uncomfortable short chairs have been moved aside and the high backed chair from the desk moved in to their place in front of the window. Curtains open with bright sunlight as a backdrop.
Leaving her standing in the middle of the floor space at the foot of the bed he sits in the chair. He knows the visual effect this will create. In contrast to the sunlight he will be no more than a dark presence to her. She will need to open those wonderful eyes wide to try and focus on his features. She will be straining to observe him, trying to fathom his thoughts.
For the first time he speaks. “Take your dress off for me”. His voice is deep, sonorous, even, slightly hushed, again pulling her in to him, making her listen to his words attentively.
A brief moment of panic crosses her face. He suspects that she had thought he would uncover her and her choice of dress – with a high zip at the nape of her neck – will be difficult to open elegantly by herself. After a pause she reaches behind, a slight flush in her cheek, and manages the minor contortion required. She slips the dress off her shoulders, pauses and then, with a touch of self-consciousness allows the garment to slip to the floor.
He is pleased with what he sees. Again she has complied with his instructions well. Beneath the demure covering of the dress she wears what is obviously expensive lingerie. At its heart sheer black but covered in a trace of black floral pattern, the shape of the detail providing emphasis for her full breasts, the briefs providing their own emphasis. Her freshly shaved sex – another specific instruction – obvious yet still tantalisingly hidden.
She wears the lingerie well. He has a good impression of her physique from their previous meetings, has observed her grace, felt her firm, cared for body through summer dresses but he has never seen her this exposed before so his eyes linger. Taking in the rise of her breast, the gentle curves that define her femininity, her legs – encased in very sheer hold up stockings – rising from her once again expensive heels and giving her a borderline statuesque demeanour despite her relatively average height. The stockings were perhaps the one minor disappointment. His preference is for a more traditional form of hosiery management. As well as the obvious framing provided by a set of suspenders they avoid the pinching of the thighs that hold ups entail and also offer other, more prosaic, sensual options but this minor piece does not detract in any meaningful way from the whole presented to him.
He speaks again, this time a single word. “Exquisite”. The shy smile and almost coquettish glance this single word provokes almost makes him laugh out loud. By now she knows him fairly well. She knows what he appreciates. Her obvious pleasure in pleasing him is a joy but he refrains from breaking in to his suppressed grin – it wouldn't be appropriate.
He rises from the chair and takes the few steps required to walk past her, circling round to observe what he has not yet had the chance to see. Her generous, well-proportioned buttocks encased in the sheer black fabric, the graceful sweep of her spine, her bare neck, the downy hairs exposed by her pinned up hair. He trails his fingertips across her shoulder, the touch electric, visceral, proprietary. Turning his hand he follows the line of her back with the flat of his nails. Starting at the nape of her neck and oh so slowly moving down to her sacrum.
Again the word. “Exquisite”.
Moving closer to her, but still physically apart he speaks again. “Do you know what a stress position is?” Whether it is the incongruity of the question or simply the intensity of the moment the question seems to cause her some confusion. Her posture stiffens, her head begins to turn. He stops her with a touch on her chin.
“Stress positions are used by interrogators to create a sense of tension in their subjects that helps disorientate them and make them feel physically exposed. If used over a period of time they induce a high degree of discomfort and then pain but, for shorter periods they can – in my experience – have a very different effect that I enjoy.”
“Do you remember the word?” After a short pause she nods her affirmation. During their previous meetings they had discussed many things, found swathes of common ground and agreed the outline, though little of the detail, of what they are sharing. He had specified “the word”, a classical conceit – “Prometheus”, creator of man, thief, requiring sacrifice but still the champion of humanity.
“Good girl, now turn to me”.
Taking her gently by the hand he turns her to face a long, narrow mirror and encourages her to take a couple of steps towards it, stopping her about two feet away from the wall. Standing once again behind her he uses the toe of his shoe to indicate that she should open out her stance, gently cajoling her feet wider apart until she reaches a point where the position was quite unnatural but not in itself discomforting. Next he reaches down to take her hands, raising them up to above shoulder height and easing them towards the wall, either side of the mirror. As her body weight moves forward she naturally begins to move up on the balls of her feet, a position further amplified as he spreads her hands, now palms flat against the wall, higher and wider.
He steps back to admire his work to date. He looks with pleasure and the taut muscles in her calves, her impressively straight back, her splayed fingers and feels a sense of pride in her efforts. She isn’t taking any easy way out, she now understands and is committing herself to the act.
He begins to explore her body. Starting with his hands on the tense, dense muscles of her thighs he loses himself in the tactile pleasure of her form, moving up over her buttocks, testing their tensile strength that is accentuated by her unnatural position. When his hands move on to her waist and the base of her ribcage it is as if an electric charge shoots through her entire frame.
“Ticklish I presume”, he thinks, “that might be useful later”. Moving up he avoids her breasts and circles round her shoulder blades until he grasps the bunched muscles at the base of her neck. Slowly he begins to massage her straining form offering a minor relief from her increasing physical stress. In gratitude she begins to press her buttocks back in to him, craving more contact, yearning for things to come but the moment ends and again he moves away.
He speaks again, a calm, instructive tone. “With a female subject this particular position has some specific benefits. The first I suspect you may have already appreciated.” As the words come out of his mouth his hand slips between her legs, palm up, cupping her sex, feeling her warmth. Pulling back his hand he lets his fingers trace the shape of her, pushing gently through her briefs on the obvious gap engendered by the position she has adopted so willingly. She gasps, a moan percolated up from what seemed to be the depth of her soul but still she holds her stance.
“The other is less obvious”, he says. With these words he deftly unhooks her bra, its structure falling forward allowing her ample breasts to fall away from her ribcage. Reaching round he feels the full weight of her breasts with both hands, gently massaging and lifting them back in to her. Again a moan of pleasure, this time morphing in to something more guttural as he changes his grasp to allow him to apply equal and growing pressure to her full, erect nipples. This time the pelvic contact is initiated by him, pushing in to her, allowing her to feel is growing erection through her flimsy underwear and his suit trousers.
After what might have been seconds or could have been much longer he once again moves away this time sitting on the edge of the bed a few steps behind her. Again words, “you may relax and take off your bra properly but please continue to face the way you are”.
The release is obvious but, due to the length of time she has held the position there is some equally obvious residual tension – something else that can be attended to later.
From his position on the bed he looks her in the eye with the help of the mirrored glass. What he sees is a glint of pride that made his heart leap. She holds her head high, her hands loosely by her sides, no hint of self-consciousness now in being so exposed to him. He has always suspected she was special, now he knows his suspicions to be true.
Kicking off his formal shoes and removing his socks he stands again. “Do you know what comes next?”, again a nod of confirmation and consent. “Then come and assist me”. As she turns towards him he takes a cushion from the bed and drops it at his feet. As well as removing any uncertainty he now feels she deserves some consideration, the cushion serves both purposes.
She moves to him, her elegant fingers moving to the buttons on his shirt. Her eyes focussed on her task. He slips off his shirt and she, without bidding, drops to her knees on the cushion and kneels before him. She gazes up at him with those oh so beautiful eyes and releases his belt and suit trousers. With her fingers delicately looped in to the pockets she slides the trousers over his thighs and down his legs, her gaze still on his face, studiously avoiding what is directly in her line of sight.
As he steps out of the trousers she, almost sub consciously, gathers them up, stands – without requiring instruction – and turns to the chair in front of the window. She gently and neatly folds the trousers and bends forward at the waist to place them on the chair. As well as the natural act of service he is both amused and aroused by her rather obvious display of her firm buttocks and the now discoloured material enshrouding her sex. She may be compliant but she is also almost as carnal as he – something else to be exploited in time.
She returns to her place at his feet. Again no instruction is required, she slowly, very consciously pulls down his body hugging undershorts exposing his semi erect member, giving it no more than a passing glance despite its proximity to her face. She helps him step out of his underwear and then returns her gaze to his face, hands on her stocking clad thighs, shoulders relaxed, awaiting his will.
He smiles a patrician smile. “Take me in your mouth”, he instructs. Now the smile is hers, she lifts her hand towards him. “Stop! I did not ask you to touch me, I asked you to take me in your mouth”, his voice firmer with the barest hint of disappointment that she had made such an error.
Again a look of realisation of the task set her crosses her face. After a moment of contemplation she reaches her neck forwards and gently kisses the end of his penis. Tilting her head slightly she parts her lips and slides the tip of his manhood in to her moist, warm mouth. Straightening her head now that she has sufficient purchase she continues to slip his increasingly erect penis in to her mouth, gently using her teeth to hold back his foreskin, allowing the head of penis to push against the roof of her mouth, tasting his desire for her. Following instructions to the letter she continues until she can go no further and holds him in her mouth, waiting.
“Just think”, he says, his voice a touch huskier than before. “An hour ago you were awaiting my call, anticipating, and now here you are, almost naked and with my dick in your mouth. I too anticipated. You have behaved impeccably and look even more beautiful than I imagined. Perhaps we should see how many other ways there are that you can exceed my expectations”.
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Spam Related Rant (Short Version)
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Posted:Apr 2, 2013 9:00 am
Last Updated:Apr 3, 2013 1:14 am
8514 Views
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Every time I send a small piece of my soul out in to the ether in the form of an email I wait with a sense of fervent anticipation for a word or two in reply. While this is all too often a fruitless wait I do still get a buzz when a new email indicator pops up on my homepage.
Recently however these all too infrequent alerts have been the result of a badly written; all too obvious fish from some dodgy "dating" site. Surely Senior Sizzle must be aware / able to block this nonsense?
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Unrealistic Expectations
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Posted:Mar 26, 2013 5:20 am
Last Updated:Mar 26, 2013 7:24 am
8633 Views
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So... I out waited Senior Sizzle and eventually renewed by gold membership for a nominal fee. Why? Because, despite all the obvious flaws, this has proven to be a platform that has worked for me and may work again.
This leads me to think a little about how I have managed to navigate my way through the fakes and fantasists and I have come to the conclusion that - as well as my thick skin - it is my fairly strict adherence to certain standards. Perversely I think that it is setting my own unrealistic expectations of who might actually be out there that allows me to shrug off the ephemera and identify the flakes of gold amongst the sediment.
So who is my perfect woman?
She is confident enough in herself to allow herself to act with abandon.
She has a natural grace and elegance that can dissolve in to acts of wanton lust.
She wants to understand what drives others and for her passions to be understood.
She is eloquent and still listens just as well.
She is comfortable in her own skin and yet still needs the reassurance of another's admiring touch.
Not your average bunny then but she is out there. We will find each other. The spark will ignite a flame, the flame will become an inferno and we will be consumed.
Then it begins again.....
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Swimming in the Shallows
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Posted:Mar 20, 2013 5:13 am
Last Updated:Apr 27, 2024 4:46 pm
8782 Views
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OK, this is going to make me sound really shallow but I started this blog as a form of intellectual exhibitionism so I might as well expose the the ugly dangley bits as well...
I work in a "commercial" role - CV speak for selling - in large scale business to business environment. That means I spend lots of time working on a small number of high value deals which can, at times, be very annoying due to the ineptitude, stupidity and general ignorance of others. Eventually most of the ships come in to port and the topic of this blog is the effect of deals closing (as has happened this morning).
Too be brutal it gives me the horn! The release of tension, personal validation and - let's be honest - sense of power winning a big money deal gives me is a huge aphrodisiac.
I suspect it reflects fairly well in to my sexual persona as well as my business one. These deals are the culmination of a long term seduction where rejection was always somewhere near the horizon but in the end the force of my personality, knowledge and skills has convinced the other party to yield to my suggestions.
Thing is I know it isn't just me (or indeed just men). A few years ago I worked on a deal with a partner organisation where the person supporting me was an attractive lady in her early thirties whom I had known on and off for twelve months or so.
She wasn't afraid to use her assets in the pursuit of commerce - she used to categorize the importance of meetings by the number of buttons open on her shirt - so I had had the opportunity to admire her charms at close quarters.
Anyway, the long and short of it was that we won, we celebrated, we ended up fucking each others brains out in the ladies loos. Purely a one off, never mentioned again but the win got us both so horny it seemed the natural thing to do.
As you may have gathered I am - in general - not a huge fan of the one off fuck but I think this just supports my argument. When the adrenaline of a big win kicks in all I want to do is find a compliant, attractive partner and shag her brains out!
As I said, shallow, but we are who we are.....
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