When you write, how do you expect your audience to be? Certainly like this, and I quote from a PM I found tonight:
"I am so pleased you screwed Aldo, was it as enjoyable as it used to be? How did Beatrix feel about Aldo afterwards? Does Phillip still get horny when you relate to him what happened? Will you flesh out what happened in your next blog please? Your ever faithful Alpinist, D."
On the other hand, you're right, By-the-Sea, I am writing in instalments again and expect my readers to follow the thread, instead of giving them the chance to understand what it is all about when they only look in once - so what I write might look like a riddle at times, I admit.
It was a lovely, warm Saturday afternoon when Aldo arrived (he even took along some flowers for me). We had sent Beatrix' daughter and Alpinita to see Aunty Angelika in town, so we were alone and lying on deck-chairs near the pool. We must have been a sight, though Aldo was cool as ever: two nudes and he in his best suit, nibbling some biscuits from the village shop and having espressos.
Then we moved inside into my bedroom, which was not really mine any more. There was a smell I was not familiar with in my bed - very different from what it is like when a man sleeps there, different from what I was used to. But never mind, Aldo would certainly make a change to the all female atmosphere, and when he undressed, he made our usual lives vanish in a vague haze of forgetfulness, and what remained was us - bare and raw and wildly intent on copulating until our minds went blank.
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