I didn't tell you of Jacuzzi Thursday. Johanna was not there and so I was alone in the tub with Elsie and Joerg, a scene out of the past - him sitting in the middle and we two girls snuggling to either side of him, quietly enjoying the night sky, and the warm bubbly liquid we were submerged in, and the bright underwater lights that reflected at the gently moving surface and from there to the underside of the trees in the garden and out into space.

It could have been a happy scene, even an erotic one, but it waasn't. Not for a minute did I see Joerg's cock harden, not even when Elsie tenderly fondled him, or when we reclinded on their bed after towelling down with a glass of wine in the nude. Because they were so much afraid of losing their child. It's not that Johanna is unwell or something - on the contrary: she is great and full of energetic life, but, in Elsie's words, "has recently started to fuck a guy her age who does not mind the child at all."

She has begun spending nights away, and it's happening more and more often. If she moves out, they can't do anything. All they can really do is hope - and quietly mourn. And what else could I do than join them in their mourning - and drinking one glass to many, like them?

Thank you for being so encouraging - you were the first to know and I will certainly take your good advice to heart. Phillip was quite positive, too - he just said that for someone who always wants to do everything in the best possible way, such a job can be really time-consuming. I would have to see much better where the limits were and what could not be done by me. He is right - and shows with this how well he knows me. This is certainly my weak point - even while doing my blog here, I read and re-read and change my sentences time and again, only to find words that will really please me. Fortunately, I am only like this when it comes to teaching and language - cleaning and tidying up is an entirely different matter. There I like things more creative.

What still keeps me from accepting the offer are some experiences I have made as a woman in such situations. While Austrian men are ready to very generously share when it comes to work, they are very different concerning influence and power. In this area, women are quite unsuitable, aren't they - with their emotions and muddled thoughts and all. So while they patronizingly enjoy that among all their shrivelled cocks there is also a succulent pussy and some well-rounded tits, they unanimously hope that she has the decency to keep her mouth shut when it comes to policy and decision making, in order not to complicate matters unnecessarily.

More than once I was personally attacked in such situations, when the men ran out of arguments - like how should I really know as a woman how to make financal decisions and the like, even when I was the only one who had the figures ready. It's interesting that it is not they themselves who usually feel threatened by a woman - it's their male networks who make sure that they can profit equally and that no-one else can get a piece of the cake.

So I am not really decided - but very much leaning in this direction. Because deep down, and I would never admit it but to you, my readers and friends, I am much more ambitious and competive than anybody who sees my sweet smile would think possible.

It's 3pm., and it's dark as night - there is a snowstorm outside and the meadows are turning white. And it's weekend - a weekend of discussions, I expect, about our future sexual endeavours and their organization. I'll be a good sport and all collaborative, that's my intention.
I was asked to arrive before the headmaster today. When I was sitting in his office he asked me outright if I was interested in becoming the new head of the language department of our school from the beginning of the winter term. It would mean being a member of the school board - there are three heads of department and his eminence. It would mean my own office with its own lock. It would also mean a reduction of my teaching lessons by half and a considerable increase of office and representative work. He said he'd love to have me and that in his eyes I had everything which was necessary to officially apply for the job: experience, integrity, general acceptance, initiative and a pussy.

He didn't mention the last one of course - this is of my own doing. But it's true. They are desperately looking for woman who are willing to take over resposibility. I guess they even have to by decree of the government, because it looks bad when there is a majority of women teachers at the school and all the board members are men. But we are a traditional society which is male dominated when it comes to taking over top jobs. There is of course one of our militant lesbians who is hot for the job - but no-one wants her, not even I.

What shall I do - this will be another point for discussion. Say yes and become the alibi quota woman on the board? Say yes because I am certainly able to do this and a good choice? Say yes because I am flattered and I would love to represent our school publicly? Say no because it means more work and more time away from home? Say no for the sake of our prospective yet unconceived baby?

But just imagine that: "Dear parents and visitors, let me introduce our new board member and head of the langage department to you, Ms. J. Alpina, PhD, GF." And some applause that will go on (almost) for ever ....

I told Phillip everything about Maria - maybe not quite everything, not how much she had captivated my heart, and that she was - or at least had been - a possible alternative to him. I read in a psychology report latety that it is not good to tell your partner really everything, because after doing so there are no secrets and no mysteries left, nothing to wonder and maybe to worry about, and thus there is no attraction. To know everything about something means to lose interest in it, the report said. There is certainly a point in that.

So I just told him everything I thought suitable for the moment and he was very, very intrigued - he wanted to know a lot about fairly meaningless technical detail (how did you for how long how many times was she shaved you know)and held me in his arms very tight. He said it was quite a fantastic and utterly erotic tale and I certainly had to see her next weekend. Why could we not both come to my house, because maybe he .... I told him outright that this was out of the question, he should not even dream of it, for which he finally showed a lot of understanding - outwardly.

But Maria or not Maria - he would love to share again with another girl, he said, because he found this very exciting, and we ought to think about this and make some plans. Why not - thoughts are free. The question is rather: who might I want to share him with?

"As soon as we entered Maria's house, I lost consciousness, which just means that my body, every nerve and fibre, took over from my mind and I was all feelings and insticts, totally out of any control. When Maria virtually tore my clothes from my body. When she almost carried me to the shower and thoroughly washed me, after she had previously thrown all her clothes away. How she discovered my bald patch and lay before me on her knees while burying her head in my lap, and then eating me out and making me shout with pleasure. How her lips and her teeth gave my pussy no rest. Her full taste when I found her under her well-trimmed bush. And our hands. And our breasts. Like hungry lionesses who tear into each other - kill me or love me. Love me or kill me. But just never let it end.

Once we both cried with exhaustion, once we slept. But our insatiable bodies gave no rest. I felt her tongue in me when I woke. I had to shout, and I shook and could not stop. It must have been midnight when we lay still. In close embrace we slept.

Our body needed each other again this morning, not so desperately, but slowly, tenderly, as in slow-motion they rubbed against each other. Glowing surface on glowing surface, breast on breast, tummy on tummy, thigh on thigh. Bald pussy on hairy pussy. There are almost no words for what happened then: our orgasms came so slowly, but from so deep within, from the core of our very beings, from the center of the universe, like an earthquake in super slowmotion - we totally lost control over our bodies and were endlessly tossed from side to side. We clang to each other in order not to break into pieces, and thus we waited for the storm to abate - which it finally did, and we lay and listened to it disappear, stammering words and panting like marathon runners."

This is what I wrote on August 10, last year. I looked for it, and I read it again, and something happened which I hadn't reckoned with and which surprised me and even shocked me a little: I started to masturbate to my own words. Isn't that weird?

And what is best: Maria is coming to Vorarlberg for a weekend, in 10 days. And she wrote she'd very much love to see me.

Back from school - I put my briefcase into its corner and as usual go up to my bedroom first to get changed: into cut-off jeans-shorts today and a black T-shirt, which I admit is a bit awkward in late autumn when the heating is on, but it gives me a pleasant feeling of lightness and freedom around the more southern parts of my geography. The second place I go to is the kitchen to make a lovely double espresso - I would never hand back my Italian coffee machine in my life. And from the fridge I take a piece of my favourite Swiss chocolate: a dark one with orange flavour. With this routine I begin my pleasantly- at- home- time in the afternoon.

A next pleasure is reading the many nice comments in my NN-blog, and to become aware that I have reached 40'000 on the blog's counting device. But no-one knows who it is in yesterday's picture - there are only very few people around (if any) who have read all 72 pages of my blog. I might try to make reading more attractive one of these days: I could for example invite people who have passed a detailed online Alpina test to a weekend at my house - how does that sound?

Yesterday's picture is from Maria - the woman who makes my heart thump, who is my Phillip among womenkind (that sounds awkward, but is ever so true!), who is a dare-devil paraglider pilot, and with who I had a tandem-flight last year - over glaciers with the eagles (It's all in my blog, and when I say all, I mean all, all, all ...)

Sorry, if I was a little crazy this morning. I didn't want to be gross - I apologize to all those more squeamish guys and gals among you who don't relish talking about the down-theres and who are using theirs only in an emergency.

So I will just mention shortly that when Phillip came home this evening, he first thing shoved a probing hand under my skirt and into my panties to test me right there, and it was all to his liking. But not more of that. He is at his computer now paying bills through internet banking, and when he does this he is usually not in a very good mood. I am sure I will brighten him up later in the evening.

And look at what was in my e-mail last night, together with a lovely letter:



Can you guess who it is from and why it made my heart jump?

"You could make it your monogram" - I loved Depotguy's comment a lot yesterday. Why not "Ms. J. Alpina, PhD, GF" on my visiting cards in future? Imagine their faces when someone asks me to explain my titles.

Meanwhile the weekend is over, my colleague and Angelika gone. All's quiet in the house, and I am getting my things ready for my lessons. It's foggy and cold outside, a real autumn day, only the oven is still warm from Saturday night when we made pizza. I was leaning my naked back and bum against it after getting up to feel its warmth. It was a good feeling. My clothes for the day are chosen. As soon as I finish here, it's time for my shower, some makeup and then getting dressed.

Between you and me: I haven't been so constantly horny and physically excited for I don't know how long. And sex only makes it worse. My Sister Hyde side is as much astir as ever before. And she demands attention. But I don't mind - she and I match perfectly, and we're having a good time together - feeling easy and slightly flustered as if we had drunk a few glasses of Champagne first thing this morning.

You wouldn't believe on a Monday morning before work - but when I reach down, my fingers are wet, wet, wet ....

I'm back from the openair market in town - I found so many wonderful things: delicious Italian antipasti, home made pasta, Cantucci bisquits, a fresh bottle of Grappa di Barolo. And cheeses of all kinds. It cost a fortune. We are having this tonight before we make a pizza in our stone oven. A former colleague of mine will stay with us for the weekend - she is so funny although her husband died early in an avelanche and her daughter is deaf. And Angelika will be here, too, for the last weekend for some time - as she is going back to Vienna. Phillip has made sure that she can do some work at the Press House and maybe she'll really become a journalist like her dad.

Yes, her dad - my Phillip. When he came home yesterday before eight, I was alone in the house, all vibrant and ready for him. I greeted him at the door - the way I did ever so often after we had met - and I went straight for his cock like a madwomen there and then, even before the door had properly closed. He was hard in seconds - I am so glad the old magic still works. When I unzipped him, already on my knees, his beautiful cock was towering over me, firm and strong, and I held him with both hands like a lifebuoy, while I sucked him, and licked him, and gnawed him, and bit him - until he came all into my mouth and over my face and down my breasts with a shout - and sank to the ground because of hs pants round his ankles, and we rolled over the floor intertwined into each other. And then I carefully dried him with my mouth and my hair, and we took a shower together, and this is how a wonderfully wild evening began.

He was all smiles this morning when he brought me a coffee to my bed, and he said it had been good. Certainly he loved me, he said, and it had always been wonderful with me. But last night I had been again like when we met - mindless, and wild, and insatiable. Just a really, really great fuck.

It made me so happy, I must have been all smiles this morning in town. Because there is nothing better I'd love to be for him than his Alpina, the Great Fuck.

I am better again - God knows what came over me when I was alone last night. I myself came over me, it seems. I almost myself with that thing, so that I got some slight walking problems on my way to the churchyard this morning. I am sure nobody would have thought that these wobbly legs were self-inflicted. Ah, when Phillip comes home tonight, he is in for something, I can promise that. And I will tell about it - for all those who wrote to me in the course of the last few days and asked me if I could not tell something really naughty again, like in yesteryears. Do you think I have become (too) tame?