I logged on to NN with the intent of only leaving a mark here today when I found a note that someone had been missing me in the last few days - and I did. Thanks. I also found an offer to have my pussy licked next time this guy was at Vienna airport (would I please come there then) and a compliment from someone else for my sexy pictures (there are none) combined with the wish of rating this guy's rather suboptimally sized cock. The usual correspondence.

I am drowsing through my last free days, ride my bicycle now and then and still refuse to think of school. I often swim in my pool as it is rather hot, do some reading, cook meals and hardly meet any people. What I mainly seem to do is watching myself grow and become awkward - it's such a new and unusual feeling as it is my first pregnacy. I'm not doing well at controlling my emotions at the moment - I am often moody and a little depressed, and anxious about the things to come. Sometimes I become cross at little things and intolerant with people and what they tell me - particularly if they tell me stories of problems with pregnancies and births. Then I could wring their necks, or cry, or both.

I have not had much sex lately - Phillip is quite busy with the Olympic Games coming (I am glad he opted for not going to Peijing, but staying here, although I didn't stop him from accepting the assignment.) There is some quiet marital morning or evening sex - often our bodies find together in half sleep. It's then that a fire flares up which is otherwise burning very quietly at the moment.

[url]http://de.youtube.com/watch?v=emnHq0ZomxU&feature=related[/url]

And this is a song I like - Swiss German Music of the kind Beatrix and her daughters listen to. The band is called "Patent Ochsner", and they are extremely popular. I quite love their melodious music and their sometimes surrealistic texts.

Or what about this one: Hubert von Goisern und die Alpinkatzen, an Austrian Alpine Rocksinger. His background singers are called "alpine cats" - how close.

[url]http://de.youtube.com/watch?v=SMFdkH0zm60&feature=related[/url]

This is the Karaoke-Version of the same song. Here you can read the language I speak.

[url]http://de.youtube.com/watch?v=PF3tGEp9dkc&feature=related[/url]

This is a picture I quite like; it was taken from a look-out at the top of a hill in our region and doesn't show anything in particular. Just some fields, but I love the many shades of colour nature can produce.

"... I fear however it may not be that easy for you to tell Phillip, the spark of jealousy may flash?? Best keep this one quiet" - for those of you who have been long-time readers of my blog, my life seems to be like an open book.

Am I just so predictable? Or are my thoughts and worries so universal that it is easy to guess what I'll be chewing on? But you are definitely right: I won't tell anything and this does not make me happy. Because I ought to tell. Because if Phillip had a relationship like mine I would want to know. And it would make me sad. Now it makes me sad that I had a fuck for old time's sake and won't even tell. What does this make me? Not someone I love to see in the mirror for the moment.

"I'm looking forward to your next blog entry, I see you are using the classic writing trick of ending on a cliff-hanger", is what a good English friend of mine wrote in yesterday's PM. But he is not totally right. One reason I didn't go on yesterday is that I didn't want to be too long. Cocks may never be too long, but blogs certain are. Another reason is that it gave me time to think how to tell you what happened on Sunday morning when Leon took me home in his car.

We didn't follow the motorway and parked the car where we had done it before, at the beginning of a popular hiking path, which we followed for a while. All was so fresh, and wonderfully green, in the far distance we could see the Alps and there was the sound of cowbells from the neighboring hills. I knew that it would happen, it was almost unthinkable that it couldn't, so we did it against a pile of wood, which smelled intensively of fresh pine resin.

It is not that his presence makes me horny, or yearn for a fuck. It is just as if the two of us belong together physically, that our bodies clicked at one time and that it cannot be otherwise. He smiled when he felt that I didn't wear any panties (for obvious reasons). We didn't kiss much, as if this was too intimate a contact. He was standing behind me and looking at the same scenery. When his cock filled me, I had an intensive feeling of being at home.

I know this sounds corny, but I don't find any other words. Why did we have to part then, why was I so sure life could offer me more and I left for studies in England? Why did he get married so soon? The only thing that was different is that I rolled a condom over his cock, because I do not trust him anymore the way I did in the past. We were standing there quietly and rubbing against each other with ease, and then we came at the same time, as we had always done, and it was deep, and wonderful, and a little sad.

He told me of his family and his children and of his political career on our way home, and I said little to my lover, this stranger, who is so distant from me, and, oh, so close.

On Saturday during the late afternoon, all our friends gradually arrived at Beatrix' house in Zürich. In was only in the very first moment that one thought they had changed: some unusual clothes, new hair styles, receding hairlines. But as soon as they smiled, or moved their heads in a certain way, or used certain words, time became irrelevant and we were together once again. Is it only 18 years since, or already 18 years?

We ate and drank and talked of the past. Do you remember? For the first time I thought that I could sense nostalgia - that we were looking back at a time definitely gone. We were here now, and there was some of the sprit of yesteryear again - but all really had their own lives now, they were successful in it, had families, children, family problems, careers, they had become someone who was definitely different from what they had been then. Only Alex, the homosexual, still seems to be unchanged: still living alone, still in a love with a boy like an angel - meanwhile he must have had a whole heaven full of them, and he loved them all.

Yes, Leon was there, too, my lover and friend, still quiet and observant, clever and funny. Still married to the brisk blonde who is so different from me, with pretty brisk blond children and a political career for a moderately progressive party. I first thought that we didn't share the same emotional frequency anymore - that maybe my pregancy and my bulging frame had chanced something. But it hadn't - as it turned out on Sunday morning when he offered to drive me home.

Reading again what I wrote yesterday I am surprised how much my moods and emotions surface in my little texts. It was a complicated day with mixed feelings yesterday, a day it seems to propagate such inconsequential and contradictory ideas and write about guiding principles, so much like the teacher I am. Why didn't I just write the way Sphynx Lady did so brilliantly, a PM asks me this morning, and mention how often I get it up the ass? A valid question of general interest, and certainly food for thought.

So let me just mention for the time being that when I woke up this morning, the sun was in my face and Phillip's tongue between my thighs. I felt him so much that I came in no time. And that my first food of the day was a mouth full of proteins right from the producer's source, when I sucked Phillip off in return. Just so much, while I am thinking about the above mentioned question and go into another sunny day.

One of my occasional readers wrote in his PM that he was surprised how open I was for all the things to come over the weekend - he felt that not only my mind was open for all kinds of experiences but also my pussy. And he wanted to know how I dealt with guilt after I cheated on my husband because for him such a situation was always awful, because he was usually a decent person. On the other hand he admired that I was so adventurous, he would love his wife to be sexually less predictable.

First I must say that I love to receive PMs, also this one, although I usually do not answer them individually so often: I feel that my blog is some kind of answer. What I think is specal about this PM is how far away the concepts and values expressed in it are from mine. If this is an average view on sexuality - I sometimes wonder how others must see me.

Because it's true: my openness is usually not less physical than mental. I have no contract with Phillip which guarantees him solitary access to my body, or me to his, so there is no cheating possible and no guilt necessary. This does of course not mean that I don't mind what he does and that I am free of jealousy. But I strongly believe that people should not be owned - neither as slaves, nor as husbands and wives. So my bond with Phillip is mainly mental, and not physical, and I think this is how it should be. I always wonder about husbands who live in a world of their own all day and then come home and fuck their wives without really sharing their lives with them.

What would hurt me more: Phillip fucking a beautiful girl who offers herself to some fun, having a good orgasm in a lovely surrounding, or dumping some cum between her luscious lips, or him having a long-term relationship with a woman online, turning his emotional inside out, chatting for hours and regularly wanking to her picture. Certainly the second.

Although they are pleasant and relaxing, I do not like these days which are filled with nothing in particular. It is morning, and then it is night, and when I try to remember what I did all day it does not come to much. I miss my friends who are away on holidays and I miss Helene, who will not be here for another three weeks. Phillip is at work most of the time - whenever he is away for a few days, work is piling up on his desk. I do not know this from my profession - when I have holidays the school is closed and the only thing I have to do is some planning for the time to come.

At the weekend I am travelling over to Zürich. Beatrix has invited the old crowd again, the group of friends which were quite close during our studies and have now dispersed into all directions. But now and then we meet at Beatrix' house and talk about the olden days and for a few hours feel as if time could be reversed.

Only some of my long-time readers will know that these meetings used to be quite special in the past, because we were also very close sexually. I have mentioned Leon in my blog, my old friend and lover from those times, and how we had sex for old times' sake whenever we met (with some complications like the infamous panty incident). What will it be like this time - now that all of us have turned 40 and live their own quiet lives with their ordinary families? What will it be like to meet Leon - how will I react to him now that my life has changed so much?

Questions which will find their answers over the weekend. I do not make up my mind about anything beforehand. As the famous song goes: Que sera, sera ...

The unfriendly weather of last week cooled down the water in my pool, so it is quite refreshing now - cold if you come directly from under the eiderdown and dive in. I swam for a few minutes all the same, enjoying the reflexes of the sunlight over the water and the prickly feeling on my skin.

I'm alone on my porch now, drinking coffee and looking over the garden. I feel like Eve in paradise, even the apple tree is not far. All is so green and rich, and the flowers bright and humming with insects. Only that I am not sure if Eve also wore some leopard skin imitation thongs like me - maybe it was a totally different story and I am thinking of Tarzan and Jane. But no matter if Eve or Jane, I am close to nature, the sun is shining and I have time. Three weeks without any particular plans and duties are a gift from heaven.

All the same, it is Saturday, and I will go to the market in town to get what we need for the weekend. Even if my garden feels like paradise, I am afraid the food won't grow into our mouths.