I had a phone call this afternoon concerning my AIDS test and was told that the result was negative. I only had a very short, but none the less rather intensive shock - until I remembered that negative was positive: the positive news is that I am HIV negative.

And this means: as soon as Phillip's test results are through - good bye, condoms !! Hello, cum - in me and over me !! The taste of cum in my mouth again - and not Strawberry flavoured rubber. No furtive controls anymore if the thing is there - and still there on its was out.

What will Phillip taste like? He does some sports, he does not smoke, he eats a lot of vegetables and fruit - these are the positive factors. He eats meat - this is the only negative point, but it's not too decisive if it's part of a balanced, healthy diet. So his cum might be banana flavoured, or like some other fruit, with only a very slight tang of meat-eating. Worst is smoker's: there will never be an unprotected blowjob again in my life with a smoker - his cum just stinks.

The first time will decide whether I will enjoy or dislike him - let's hope it's as delicious as a fresh fruit cocktail. Then I will want it again and again. And again.

I have grown so close to Phillip - emotionally and physically. I have begun to share my life with him. I have told him many things about my life. But I have not told him anything about NN and my life on messenger. I have not told him about my cyber lovers, nothing about passionate masturbation during long online nights, nothing about my blog.

Is this a lack of confidence and trust? Will I eventually have to chose between my blog and love?

Phillip has just left. For the first time we spent a night in my bed without having sex. We were tired after last night's church concert he has to write about and after a glass of wine and some cheese we fell asleep immediately - and this morning we got up and had breakfast after just a few good morning kisses. What is this a sign of? Taking things for granted already?

I am sorry that I disappointed some people with my story about Angelika. In reality it only took about an hour. But I put it down in this way to show what went on in my mind during that time and what I learnt about myself. I hate people playing mindgames with me, but I must say Phillip was right: besides indifference and possessiveness, there is much, much more in a relationship.

Am I disappointed because she was not his sex slave and wanted me to join a lecherous game? - No, not at all. Life is just not structured that way - not here in our catholic alpine republic at least, whatever goes on in your fantasies, guys. (And in mine ...)

What did I not write about in the last few days? That snow has fallen and now glitters in the sunshine. That I was sittting in the jacuzzi during the snowfall with my friends - watching the flakes dissolve in the hot water - and that afterwards we were running through the garden naked and lying down in the snow. That by chance I met the woman who had observed me in the spa, that we had coffee together and found out we had common interests. That "Small Island" by Andrea Levy is by far the best book I have read for months. Oh, Life.

Let's face it: I had hoped for a wonderful, if possible uncomplicated relationship with Phillip - and I felt my dreams vanish. What was this beautiful young girl doing here, who moved in his flat with so much familiarity? Who seemed to be some kind of a servant, a house slave even. What was it that bound her to Phillip? I of course had to think of things I had read here in the blogs - Slutsrus and how she is her Masters slave. Why would Phillip want me to meet his slave? There could only be one reason - and I didn't like it at all.

Phillip just smiled when I declared outright that if he wanted a relationship with me, he would have to decide - she or me. "Oh, my little Alpine Flower", he said, "so possessive? So intolerant? I had always thought possessiveness was what you most abhorred."

Here I was - idiot me, beaten with my own weapon. Had I always been just indifferent, and not unpossessive as I had thought? Now as it mattered, I was like all others, even worse so? I wanted him alone, alone, alone.

"You will have to put up with Angelika", and his grin turned definitely a little evil. I wanted Phillip, with every fibre in my yearning body, but share him with another woman - a younger, more beautiful woman .... like always in such a situation tears welled up in my eyes ...

"You will have to put up with Angelika if you want me," Phillip repeated, "because she is - my daughter."

Thanks, guys, for your interest - sometimes I am rather doubtful whether my emotinal roller-coaster rides are of any interest to anybody - but I try to be as accurate as possible, even if it's not easy to tell all in a few words.

Phillip and I were in the living-room while Angelika was nowhere to be seen. How I would have loved to be very close to him, but under the circumstances I fended off all his attempts at coming too close. But I could read in his eyes what he would have liked doing with me most, if I hadn't been so reluctant.

After some time, Angelika knocked at the door and without opening it called that dinner was ready in some minutes. And I must say, it was delicious, together with my Barolo. Odd was that we were eating alone; I felt pretty uneasy about the whole business while Phillip acted as if the two of us were totally alone in his flat.

At the end of the meal, after Angelika had taken everything out to the kitchen and was presumably washing up, I just had to ask Phillip what this was all about. Who was Angelika and what was her position in his household? Phillip said he had waited for this question and he would explain everything - he thought I would understand - being such a liberal - minded and open person.

Oh, oh, I thought to myself - and I was ready for the worst. How could I ever have thought that winning this special man was easy?

I took the bus to Phillip's and arrived shortly after 6 pm. He had promised there would be dinner at his home and so I took along a bottle of my best Italian red, a Barolo I had bought on a trip through Northern Italy myself some years ago. When he opened the door, there was a big smile on his face, and we kissed long and passionatly - I mean, if he had pulled me on his bed or even to the ground and had had sex there and then, there would have been little hesitation - just as long as it took to pull over a condom - for the last time, I had planned.

So you can imagine my utter astonishment when I noticed that I was not the only guest: out of the kitchen came the young, darkhaired woman in black I had seen leaving the house the other day. Her name was Angelika, as I learnt soon, an apprentice journalist, and she moved in the kitchen with an astounding familiarity. This had a reason, as I soon found out, after she had kissed me on both cheeks and said how very pleased she was to finally meet me: she was going to cook dinner for us.

I must have stood there like a total idiot.

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I had mail - I will see him tonight.

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Lately it can happen that I think of Phillip and I am suddenly so horny that I desperately need some release. Is this love? Like when I was at a local spa the other day: I was lying in the warm water letting my thoughts wander, when I got so excited that I just needed it. I swam over to one of the underwater jets, positioned myself in a way that the stream was directed between my legs and leaned over the edge of the pool. Then there was all feeling - the slow buld-up, the sudden climax, the gradual calm. All the time I just tried to look as relaxed and neutral as possible, so that over the water surface nobody would notice anything of my hidden bliss.

And I would have had a wonderfully private public orgasm if there had not been a woman of about my age who was smiling at me when I turned and wanted to swim, and said: "Sometimes we just need this, don't we, or we think we die." And she lightly, reassuringly, touched my arm.

The young doctor who took my blood sample told me that this HIV - test would only show a definite result if there have been more than three months since my last unprotected sexual intercourse. And this included oral sex, he said with a smirk, which most women usually didn't think of. That's what I use my strawberry flavoured condoms for, I say. Oh, he says.

Although three months is a lot of time in the life of a sexually active woman, I can say that I am not afraid of contamination. I really have not come into direct contact with cum for a long time. The only place where I allow cum to flow freely is online - the safest sex that has ever been. And of course in my fantasies: of those cum is a very important part, and not that of only one man at a time.

I will have the result of the test in a week.

I woke up in a sweat - as I was sleeping alone nobody could tell me if there had also been a shout.

My nightmare had started quite pleasantly - as far as I could remember. A naked Phillip in all his male beauty had said that he was here to bring me all the cum that I had been missing. He told me then how exactly to handle his cock to get it delivered. Suddenly he looked like the guy who brought oil for my central heating lately in a big truck. After some technical manipulation, cum started to flow, all over me. But it was much too much, and because I couldn't move, I feared I would drown. "An overdose of cum", a doctor said when I came to, shaking his head, "unhealthy indeed, your child will be much too big, havin been made with so much cum." And really - I grew bigger and bigger, pumped up like a ballon, as the doctor shouted in my ear: "Loosen up as much as you can, you'll give birth to a fully grown adult." But it got stuck on its way out, I pressed desperately - and woke up. I must have shouted in my imaginary labour.

In the late afternoon I will see a doctor to have my AIDS - test done.