Maybe it was because I am in some kind of limbo because Phillip is back in a few days, or because it is the first day of my summer holidays, because a thunderstorm was brewing somewhere or I was just bored - I switched on yahoo messenger for the first time in months, expecting nothing in particular. I don't do this often nowadays - it used to be different some time ago, before I met Phillip and came to NN, and experimented a lot more online.

As usual there were people contacting me at once. Two cams with guys masturbating - their erected cocks seemed pleasantly big. Someone who offered me a MFM cyber threesome. Number 4 was S., who is still on my friends' list and who I have known quite long. He opened our conversation in a very pleasing way, saying that he regularly reads my blog. I am just too vain to disregard this - and that our conversation went on in a way that I noticed how very well he knows what is in my blog pleased me even more. Funny, imaginative, not pushy in any way - that's how I like people chatting with me, and that is exactly how it was. And honest - as be admitted that sometimes he was masturbating while reading my blog, and I must say this excited me quite.

After some time he said that this had now certainly been 1000 words, and people following my blog will know exactly what he was driving at. I had to laugh loud, I was so much taken by surprise to be beaten by my own weapons. So when he asked me if I would accept his cam, I more than gladly did.

He was sitting on the floor and leaning back while rubbing his cock for me, letting me see his face, which is the ultimate trust online. The buttons of my shorts had almost opened by themselves, and my hand got immediately wet while I was watching him. Then his tummy was full of cum and I had had a lovely orgasm, not a wild one like a storm, but a nice quiet heartwarming one which left me pleased and happy.

After cumming he didn't just roll off and leave like so many, but we went on talking - he was all naked and his cock was limp and friendly, while my hand just stayed where it was for some longer time, and I still felt my fingers all through myself.

Then we ended our meeting. Outside the thunderstorm had started - but I didn't notice much - I was just thinking over what had just happened, because it had been so good and such a pleasant surprise. If you read this, S., and you touch yourself again, enjoy it very much, and remember: your hand is my hand, as much as my hand was yours ....

What I know is that Phillip will never be willing nor even be able to live a monogamous life. He is just too successful with women - in a way most men will certainly be envious of. A smile is usually enough and he can have sex as much as he wants. Now without being immmodest I can say that I do not have many more problems to find partners - and I doubt, too, that my own inclinations are totally monogamous. Phillip is strictly heterosexual, and as you know this cannot be said any longer of me, but this should not present us with a problem because bisexual women turn him on a lot.

While it fascinates and arouses him to hear from me that and particularly how I have sex with someone else, it hurt me in the past when he did the same. Some of you who have been reading my blog for a longer time may well remember: When he fucked the cross country skier he reported about from the Olympics. His tales about the English TV newsreader who was so good at blowjobs and his pleasure about the fact that where now all these informative words came out, his cock had gone in only hours before. Or the whole affair with Traudl, the Elf.

But I have decided now that I am ready to put up with this. We don't own each other, after all, and we live only once. Maybe it's possible to tell each other beforehand when we fancy someone, and try to involve each other more. Maybe it's necessary to stop old relations which are of sentimental value (Leon, Aldo). But not Elsie and Joerg. Not Maria.

What might be the most difficult thing - we should tell each other when our hearts and not only our bodies are involved. As much as I know, this should be much easier for him that for me. He always seems to know very much where his heart is - if it is anywhere. For me it seems more difficult to have sex with someone without any lingering sentiments. I can love so many.

As strange as it may sound: If I am honest then Phillip is not the person I love best, but to who I physically react most. And this makes me his as long as it lasts.

There are people who still regularly point out my language mistakes to me and I am very glad about that: they really take me and my wish to improve my written English seriously, as this is one of the main reasons why I write here almost daily.

Although I love getting messages a lot, I was a little less pleased, however, with someone who expressed last night that he thought I would really sleep with almost anybody.

This is not true. I for example never sleep with anybody because they just expect it from me, and never to get their attention, and even less to profit from their financial resources. Considering all this, I am convinced that I refrain from doing something that a majority of my fellow sisters do. On the other hand, my sexuality is an unalienable part of my personality, and so I enjoy it whenever I feel so. I admit that over the years there have been quite a number of people I have shared physical pleasures with. But to call them "everybody" is grossly unfair - they were - with some exceptions - chosen with care, and most of all, chosen by me.

It is true, however, that I often have sexual contacts with people I know and feel close to - the way I swim and walk and eat and drink with them. Sex is neither a contract nor a promise, like many people wrongly think. It's just the most wonderful activity on earth.

I am fully aware that it must seem awkward that a few days before Phillip comes home and my life (maybe) takes a turn, I have invited my neighbour Helene to come swimming this afternoon. You remember: Helene who wrote on her picture postcard that she might try it once if I cared. And with it she meant: making love with a woman. Why not have the experience? We are consenting adults, after all. And I do care.

First it is to say that it was too cold to lie in sun after all, so after some swimming we moved inside and sat on my big bed in some fluffy bathrobes which I usually keep in the basement room where everybody changes before swimming. I had opened some red wine and we were sitting there talking and drinking. As it is to be expected, she told me first about the relationship with her husband and her marriage, and like everywhere it's not all gold that glitters. Being a rather open and adventurous woman, she feels quite caught and limited in her marital situation - they don't have many local friends and her main companion during the day is her little son.

Sexually nothing seems to happen which not already happened in their wedding night - it's like going to church, she said with a whistful smile, when you already know from the beginning what the priest will do step by step; you know that in the end the bells will ring, but it never comes as a surprise, and they always sound the same.

We had talked almost two hours when we took off our bathrobes. We first just made our skin touch, and I let her feel my hand on her, which made her tremble and breathe hard. When I gently brought her to a quiet orgasm with my fingers, she had closed her eyes. Then she touched me and it was more of an exploration of what she knew from herself and now found in me. She touched me all over and felt my wetness - but not in a way that excited me much, she rather awakened some deep feelings of tenderness in me, so that we lay very close and looked at each other, kissing now and then. That was all.

I had time this afternoon to go back in my blog and read some passages here and there. Immodest as I am I found some texts really pleasing. So I have started to print them out although this is going to be a nearly endless task. One NN-page equals five pages on my old Epson printer - which means that the whole blog is going to be about 300 pages long. Almost a book. Maybe I should have it published ...

I also happened to come across my first mentioning of Kueken on page 19, on 10th Novemeber 2006. And I have noticed that today she is far from being what she was then - a young chicken under Elsie's wings - the duckling is going to be a wonderful swan ere long. That's why I have decided to stop calling her by her nickname, but grant her the name which she has and which she deserves: Johanna - such a beautiful and proud name, which didn't seem to fit her then, but into which she has grown with her new status.

Johanna, who is bearing our child.

I try so hard to experience jacuzzi with Joerg and Elsie like in the old times, even now as Kueken is part of the situation. I don't want to be a spoilsport and it's not upon me to judge them, so I have decided to accept them the way they are at the moment: when I love my friends and want to show them, I also love Kueken - with out any reservation. That is why I have joined and become part of the Kueken pregnancy cult (if you feel some irony in this term, it's unintentional).

Now as I was never pregnant and neither was Elsie, this is actually something for us which we look upon with awe, and a little bit of jealousy, and a lot of adoration. We discuss if it can already be seen, although this is not likely. But we agree that it can be seen otherwise: the girl is so beautiful and her skin is quietly glowing and of an especially fine texture. And she is not the funny twittering bird anymore, she is calm and resting in herself, proud and happy.

After jacuzzi we three others rubbed her skin with baby oil - we gently put her on a thick towel onto the living-room table so that we all could reach her well. We must have been quite a sight, nude as we were when attending to her. Joerg was very excited, but since Kueken has wished him to refrain from penetration until the child is born, he respects it - to the pleasure of Elsie, who is the sexual beneficiary of this arrangement. So he was busily standing behind her seeking release while Elsie and I went on leaning over and massage the girl. I must admit I found the scene very erotic as my hands tenderly followed the muscles of the girl's firm thighs. But I didn't ask Joerg to also come my way.

After reading Ray Bradbury's wonderful "Fahrenheit 451" again - this year's 50th anniversary edition by the way - I showed my students the film the unforgettable François Truffaut made of it. When I see the end of it I unvariably have to cry - it's so beautiful and full of hope - when the people who live in the forest have become the books they have memorized and walk up and down in the snow to wait for the end of the dark ages. Some of the students could feel it, too, while others for who all texts are but information were unimpressed.

Tonight there will be jacuzzi because it's so cold - in the mountains there is some snow falling at the moment, I can see it from here. It's certainly going to be nice and cuddly. For Friday there is a forecast for some warmer weather. So I'll try to have a swimming guest then.

Tuesday and the weather has changed to rainy and cool, so no-one really thinks of swimming and there is no use inviting Helene. Is it fate that has hidden the sun? I don't usually believe in supreme powers, so maybe the rest of the week will be better. I am at home pretty often already as the school year draws to an end - I only have a few lessons left and then I can close down for some weeks.

Next week I will be at home and clean off my study and rid it of the piles of paper and books all over the furniture and the floor. Then presumably on Wednesday Phillip will come back and on Friday or Saturday we will leave together in his car.

So it seems that my life might finally take quite a decisive turn and what the consequences of this might be I don't know yet. I said I was ready to compromise although I don't know yet how far I am ready to go. But I will have to make up my mind sooner or later, and it worries me. Where are my limits? - Stop teaching, leaving my house, moving to Vienna or another town, even abroad? What if he becomes correspondent in Washington or New York?

Watch out my American friends - maybe we can soon meet for at least some coffee somewhere near you ...

Werner, my former student, came in the late afternoon - and he brought two of his friends along. I only thought for a second what I could do with the three of them and then I remembered your warnings concerning young lovers and decided not to put my reputation at risk. Instead I got some beer and my baggy yellow bathing suit and was very well-behaved as long as they were around. Naturally they stared at my legs and my crotch and when I came out of the water my nipples showed through the fabric, but all with enough decorum to stay the aloof teacher who was nicely chatting with them and treating them to some drinks and food.

It was quite funny because they visibly tried not to appear like students, but to act like grown men. So they drank beer and gave me compliments and told me a lot about their school time and what they were about to do now. In between they swam and jumped in and made quite a racket on this quiet afternoon so that all my neighbours must have thought there was a party in my garden.

After some beer they broke the ice and got a little bolder and started to tell quite intimate things, like that they all had masturbated for me at times - they said sometimes they went to the school toilet after the lesson to do it. They had discussed forever what I was wearing under my skirt and blouse and said they had never been able to agree because each one had his own fantasies. They had once wanted to ask, but didn't dare. Sometimes they had touched their cocks in their pockets during the lesson when they grew hard while fantasizing about me, and they blushed when I told them with a smile that I had usually seen that.

They said they all masturbated daily and they were usually thinking of some older women like me (!!!) and not about chicks their age. And that I was certainly different and never masturbated, because girls usually don't and they didn't think that I ever needed this. I didn't answer that one - but just smiled an enigmatic smile - and said that by the way the toilet was through the door and then straight on till the end of the hall ...

"True, he had chosen to live alone, but not unbearably alone. The worst of being unbearably alone was that you had to bear it", is what I find in Philip Roth's "Everyman". I am alone this afternoon, but I don`t want to stay like this - it would make me suffer too much. I could imagine to share my life with someone, and yes - I would be ready to compromise.

Joerg and Elsie compromise, too. They have taken someone into their family who - they think - bears their child. They treat Kueken very tenderly. I was reminded of a very sweet and peaceful version of "The Handmaid`s Tale" - to stay with literature. Young fertile women bear children for the barren - and it´s like some kind of ritual. Kueken´s waist does not show yet, but her skin is aglow and translucent - she looked so beautiful when she undressed to swim in the pool, so that we all had to touch and hug her and feel her skin.

I have made up my mind: one sunny afternoon next week - when her husband is at work and little Oliver at school - I will invite my neighbour Helen over for a swim.