Oops - this turned out a little pompous yesterday - one should never write too much with one's period pending - but here it is, the pre-menstrual syndrome is over, the red flag is raised and I just feel plain worn out. On the other hand I had promised to tell what news I heard from Elsie and Joerg and it was so awkward that I just didn't find the words and kept on with other things. Maybe awkward is not the right word, I'd better call it intransparent, or complicated, or even a mess.

Some of you might remember that our friendship appeared to have cooled down a little before Christmas because of Kueken, Elsie's young colleague, or because of their plan to bring her to participate in a threesome with them. Well, the threesome has taken place, and Elsie has told me how exactly it happened. What she couldn't really tell me is what the situation is like now, what effect it had on all three participants and what the near future has in stock particularly for here. Because they have neither spoken with each other about it, nor does she exactly know what Joerg's feelings are, as he has been evasive about them lately. Kueken herself has gone to her parents after Christmas to spend New Year with them and Elsie will only meet her again today at school.

I have to get ready for school now. But I will relate Elsie's story as soon as I have time, maybe later in the day.

Hug you back, Manic, it's so nice to be welcomed after being away. Hugs to all of you anonymous readers, too !

What are your intentions for the new year? I mean besides eating less and having more exercise, giving up smoking or being more careful with the booze? One of mine is to keep on writing my blog here to practice my written English. I thoroughly enjoy having a secret diary into which I can write what I cannot tell otherwise - I know I must appear like a verbal exhibitionist at times, but who cares? It's part of a pornographic site after all, so you are warned. And it is part of me - and even more so because in public I must appear most of all intellectual and sexless to fulfil the requirements of my teaching job. So I have my secret life here even if it's only digital, but it has become quite a part of me in the past two years.

And because what happens here has begun to affect me, I must say that there are also aspects of my online life which make me sad. There are too many people I meet here who arouse my imagination and begin to mean something to me - just to lose them again within a short time. It seems that it is almost impossible to have something like a lasting online friendship. Most people online are like candles who burn with too much ogygen - they burn pleasantly bright for a time, but they are spent so soon. They stop being online and leave me guessing what has made them change their minds and what turns their lives have taken.

Because this is such a fast-living medium, because relationships can be but superficial, I cannot and don't have to write for anything but for the day. My sexual life as a verbal ten finger exercise on my keyboard. But I love you joining me - and if I happen to touch your heart or any other parts of your body you'd love me to touch - you're always welcome to my blog.

I have woken up - it's a new year, and I have left the dream of a wonderful holiday behind me for good. If there is a heaven, it must be like what happened to me in the past 10 days: warm and sunny weather, beautiful scenery, great food and drinks, and Phillip, my Phillip. Everything was just perfect. We had planned not to do much else but spend time together and relax, and have some time together to speak, feel and touch. And that is what we did.

For the first time in my life I have something like tan-lines: at home I am always in the sun naked, and my skin is so white that there is not much tanning anyway - but the Egyptian sun was so intense and there was no skinnydipping possible that there is now the outline on my bikini imprinted on my body. It will fade quickly, I know, but as long as it's visible I will stand in front of the mirror naked and look at my Egyptian self.

We arrived home late last night, and at 10 this morning Phillip already left for London; he was so much in a hurry that I couldn't even feel him inside me. I feel so empty, after 10 days of continuous lovemaking, I miss the touches all over my body. And it might be easter before I feel him again. What a long walk through the desert ...

On Monday my lessons will start again, and I have to get ready. Tonight I'll be with Joerg and Elsie, and I wonder what tale they have to tell me ...

It was a busy day yesterday - the long drive, the Christmas party with Phillip's family, the same drive back. We arrived home rather late and slept like logs - we were so tired we didn't even make love for the first time since he's back.

Phillip's parents didn't seem to like me much more than last year. They seemed surprised that their beloved son was taking the same girl along, and so were his brothers and sister. Only Angelika was genuinely pleased and hugged and kissed me warmly. Phillip had to tell them a lot about his work in London and they were immensely proud and sure he'd have a wonderful career and even become famous. The only thing, as mother pointed out again, to make his life perfect was to find a dear wife and have some children with her, but that should not be too difficult for a wonderful man like Phillip. I loved the way Angelika pressed my hand compassionately when her granny said this.

I mentioned the Gilmore Girls lately: take Lorelei's mother and make her Austrian and a little more civil - and here you have Phillip's mother.

Today it's a busy day getting everything ready - and tomorrow is the first day of our holiday. Have a wonderful time too, and Happy New Year to all. If all goes well, I'll be back by Sunday Jan. 7th.
Kisses, Alpina

I have left school behind me for another year - there was a lovely Christmas concert and I got so many good wishes. But now it's Christmas for good, and it is a real Christmas for me - the biggest present is that Phillip is with me and even stays at my house and shares my life. He had to pop over to the office for some hours this morning, so I have a little time to myself to get things ready.

I was in town yesterday and bought all the food we need, and some last presents, among them a new biography of the famous writer Franz Kafka. I brought Ruth a little present, and Tanja (she was not at home), and after blogging here I'll go to Elsie and Joerg for a glass of Champagne. I wonder if there are any interesting news to be heard from them.

Now it is time to wish you all, my wonderful readers, a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. May all your wishes come true in the coming year. A lot of hugs and kisses from your
Alpina.

As much as I admire the Gilmore Girls on television (I sometimes watch them on our Austrian TV channel when I am on my hometrainer), I am not Lorelei. So I will never ask Phillip to marry me. No, I want to be asked, formally and demurely, I want to see him on his knees and old-fashionedly ask for my hand. And I will ask for some time to think and then only say yes, I will. But will he ever ask me in the first place? In the last few days I have tried to will him - when he was at work or did some cooking or washing up, I looked at him intently, took all my willpower together and sent the message: ask, ask, ask. And he asked me - if I liked garlic with my salad. But I won't give up. But asking myself - no way. I'd rather die as a spinster, which may be my fate anyway. Meanwhile my brain-waves will urge him on.

They live together like husband and wife is what people here usually say disapprovingly when two unmarried people live under the same roof and obviously have sex. When I say this about Phillip and me, my faithful readers know that I mean much much more than only our carnal pleasures.

Yes, this week Phillip and I have been living together in my house like husband and wife. I was thinking this yesterday when I was lovingly folding his socks and his underwear which I had been washing for him before, together with my things. Meanwhile he was on his way back from the office and bought some groceries, and then we cooked together and had dinner. Three candles were burning like in a million Austrian households at this time in Advent. Afterwards we were cuddling on the sofa and watching the old black-and-white film "To Kill a Mockingbird" again, with an absolutely wonderful Gregory Peck, and I had to cry a little, and then it was already time for him to spread me over the kitchen table to fuck my brains out - to put it this way for once.

Oh, how easily my brains melt with him, and all which is left is my yearning body.

On Christmas Eve we will be home alone, and I will decorate a little fir tree in my living-room for us. We will be like husband and wife celebrating Christmas, and before midnight we will walk through the cold to mass, which is held in our church like anywhere in the Catholic world. Only will there be no snow this year according to the forecast.

On Christmas we will drive over to celebrate with Phillip's parents, but we will not sleep there. Angelika will join us, too. And then we'll go on holiday into the sun. Thanks to Gio, who messaged me some suggestions, I had and idea which Phillip thought good. If all goes well, we'll travel early on 27th December and stay for 10 days. Sandy beaches in the sun - here comes your sun-starved Alpina - white-skinned as ever but full of determination to make it go at least a little pink.

I think Phillip assumes that I would never in my life have anything like an affair with an old man like the Editor. From his remarks I deduce that he thinks the old man is pretty much dead except for his mind, or at least totally beyond any carnal desires. And I understand what he means to say: when we see old people in the streets, in the doctor's wating room or outside a senior citizen resort, we hardly ever think first that they might also be sexual beings. When Phillip tells me to be nice to the Editor, he seems to be thinking of me listening patiently to his old man's tales and offering him the pleasure of being close to someone young and not entirely withered. The idea that I might be attracted to him would certainly make him laugh or doubt my sanity. Well, thinking like this seems to be the priviledge of the young, but according to my experience he could not be more wrong.

The Editor, immaculately dressed, was charming and alert as usual. He listened very carefully to everything that was said and asked a lot of very sharp questions. Under a pretext - he offered to show me a picture he had recently acquired - he succeeded in "luring" me into his office so that we were alone, and he asked me with a big smile how I felt now Phillip was back.

And I told him, and spontaneously kissed him on his lips, and he carefully laid his right hand between my legs and his left hand on my right breast, and - squeezing me just a little - wished me a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Oh, how I felt his good wishes.

What happens between Phillip and me, though, is just incredible. There are times when we can discuss things very rationally and make plans, or he tells me of his work - but very often it's just our bodies that connect, and my mind switches off and I am losing myself in a storm of emotions.

We had to come up for air very early this morning - Phillip had to go to the office and I am getting ready for school. I lack words for all that happened to me last night - but my body is still singing of it - of all the lust and all the pain.

I will eternally be lying on my knees before him, reaching up with both my hands and holding his big, hard cock and then suck it extatically until he cums all over me. I will be spread over the kitchen table while he takes me until I shout with lust forever. Nothing else.

Tonight there will be a welcome back party for the foreign news crew at work, and I will be there, too. For the first time in weeks I will see the Editor again, and I am a little apprehensive. I am toying with the thought of telling Phillip everything, but then I still hesitate. Should he know? Does he really have to know? I am not sure yet.

I'm getting ready - to be taken, to be had, to be ravished, to be thoroughly fucked, to lose myself completely in his arms, to set my aching body at rest - for moments at least - before it is going to ache even more. All morning I have been thinking what to wear when he steps over my threshold and how to welcome him - and I am sure by the time he comes I will be naked again and trembling. I know myself too well and what kind of a day this is going to be before the great moment arrives.

After nine o'clock, I was not even dressed yet, there was a ring at the door, and when I had thrown some dress over me and opened, Armin, Helene and little Oliver were standing outside and they brought me a little Christmas present with the hope that we would be good neighbours in the coming year. I asked them in, but they said they had no time and had to go on, but we arranged for meal in January when I am back. I was positively surprised, I hadn't really expected this, and I have decided to buy a present for little Oliver next week.

So - just casual, jeans and a sweater, or a dress, or just a towel and wet hair?