I didn't really notice before, but all the world is pregnant. Wherever you look, tummies well out from under shirts and blouses or threaten to rip dresses open. And I will soon be visibly one of them. There are the fortunate girls who, when you walk behind them, show no sign of their pregancy. Their hips remain narrow, their behinds slim. Just their tummies show they are pregnant: round and tight and worn with pride.

Alas, I belong to the second group of women, like my mother did - I have seen pictures of her. I will become round and heavy all around, and people will think I have become fat. So my tummy will never attractively pop out from under a tight t-shirt in the streets. But I don't want to complain. I feel fine, and nature will go its due course and what will happen to me has happened to zillions of women before - even if whenever a new baby is born, it is special and unique.

We are back from our trip to Dresden, Weimar and Eisenach, three towns full of cultural highlights, which we enjoyed as much as we could. Operas, concerts, museums, castles, town walks - there was something exciting all the time and it was just wonderful. We always stayed at classy hotels and the food and the local wine were just marvellous.

I enjoyed having Phillip all to myself, because he is usually so busy, and I must say he is the best traveling companion you can imagine, sensitive, interested, very knowledgeable, and very, very funny. At the same time he always has a healthy distance to things when I would worry or get excited, so everything always turns out well with him, from getting tickets at the opera to a better table in a restaurant.

At night we had regular marital hotel sex, which means, not too loud and without too many extras, and only the two of us. It was so good to wake up in his arms every morning. I once sucked him off in a Weimar park where we had a rest on the lawn and we felt alone. And once there was an aborted handjob on a tower of the Wartburg, but then we heard some tourists stomping up the wooden stairs.

While Phillip is back to work again, I will have three more weeks without lessons. I'll do this and that and observe myself grow awkward, as my pregnancy shows now. Helene is on holiday with Oliver and even Elsie and Joerg are not home. So I might be online now and then.

All is now set, we will be leaving early tomorrow and stay for a week or a little longer. Helene will look after the house first, and then she will be away on holiday with Oliver. So I wish you the best of times, please do not forget me, although this is a time of living fast. I will be back with you soon. Kisses to all and enjoy whatever enjoyable comes your way.
Yours, Alpina

A rainy Monday, but I started it with a swim all the same. I usually undress in the cellar, where we do our washing and where the circulation pump for the pool is. Night panties off and into the wicker basket, pump on and turning the backdoor key, a few concrete step up and then I walk across the lawn that leads to the pool. Usually I get distracted on my way and look at some flowers, or bushes, or at our apple tree. It's a long time since I hugged it last, but there will be a good apple crop this year all the same.

The air cools my skin which is still hot from sleep, goose pimples form and my nipples harden, I touch them before I step into the water to feel if all is well with them. And then I dive in and the world disappears around me, there are just some reflexes of light and a muffled sound of streaming water, and when my head is up again, I swim some more and think about my day and feel my mechanically moving body, and then I feel hungry and as soon as I am dry again, my steps lead me into the warm kitchen, where, still naked, I turn on my espresso machine and see if there is some bread left from yesterday. And then another holiday can begin.

I see I will remain alone with my awkward fetish. Gladly there are people who will console me, like a very good friend, who wrote in his almost daily PM, "When it comes to underwear I'm afraid I'm quite boring because I rarely wear any. It is just to hot here and I'm more comfortable without. I've never seen men's red thongs on sale here but if ever I do I'll be sure to buy a pair." I love that a lot - receiving a daily PM from a friend, I mean - it makes starting up my computer an even greater pleasure.

Otherwise, my life has turned to slow-motion: at the beginning of the holidays it's a common phenomenon with me. When all work tension leaves me, I am just tired, so I usually sleep in the afternoon or read for hours under the sunshade in the garden. Phillip is having a holiday, too, next week, so we'll leave as soon as the weather is reliable. We won't go far this time - our aim is Dresden and the Elbe.

It will not particularly interest you, but before my morning swim my first steps usually lead me into the bathroom lately where I vomit, I have even placed a chair next to the toilet to make my puking cosier. And I am starting to feel awkward - when I look into the mirror it seems to me that my pregnancy begins to show. But maybe I just imagine it - it's the 12th week now and as I was told it's still early for that.

In the afternoon Esther, my former student, will come to coffee and cake. I didn't expect her call so early. I played some notes on my piano which stands in my living-room unused - it's embarrassing how much it is out of key. I just hope she doesn't want to play when she sees it.

I have holidays, so that's the reason why I bombard you with multiple blogs. But as you might know: we girls love multiples. I even had time to open yahoo and I met some online friends there, who didn't seem displeased to meet me. To one of them I virtually lost my (cyber-)heart when he not only said something nice about my most recent blog text, but put on his tight red male thongs for me, which for some reasons he calls his "alpinas", and showed them on cam. Now they always do it for me - my heart races audibly and my organs water, you would not believe how much. They seem to be some kind of fetish for me.

When I tell this to other guys, they usually go "Eeeek" and say they would never wear those. My Phillip sometimes puts them on when he comes to bed with me and I beg him, but in the morning when he goes to work he quickly changes to some decent boxers. He would not like to be caught in them I am sure.

Well, I have told you some secret about me again, and where one of the paths to my heart leads through. By the way, the marvelous red thongs I was shown this morning have a clasp at the side, and so I anxiously waited for it to be opened, and when it was opened, it was just pure bliss ------

I have had the 21st-most-popular blog for quite some time, but today I will be relegated to the 22nd-most-popular by wonderful kassie - and I wanted to be in the top twenties..... Last time I looked she was 5000 visitors behind me - wasn't that just last week?

I am also in an internal race with my friend Piss Slut Kat. Since we began competing, she leads 1670:1440. What worries me a little is the fact she hasn't written one word for well over two years. Which proves that when you find the right words on Planet NN, they are more powerful that any other rambling attempt at expressing oneself whatsoever.

What am I doing here? - It's early morning and the sun is shining, and it's time for a swim. In the nude - as one hastens to say on this site ....

I made some fun of Puritan Americans in my last blog, and thinking about it all morning, I have come back here to admit that there are some leftovers of this Puritanism in myself. Because when Phillip was in Vienna over the weekend, he fucked one of the hostesses and I took it badly, more badly than I thought I would, at least.

I mean: he told me about it, in his male error that it would excite me as much as it excited him when I reported similar escapades. And he did tell me straghtforwardly, and I can see Helene suck him off and just feel pleasure for him. This woman, he said, was so horny that it oozed out from all her pores, and she virtually asked him to be fucked, he said. And she was also a swallower and asked for another helping once he'd cum (which didn't really interest me).

Why am I so weak - is it my pregnancy, my fear that I cannot give him all he needs in my state? So I was particularly loud when finally my orgasm came, but it was half lust, half dispair. And when I afterwards swam some lengths in my pool, I held my face under water now and then, to wash away some unexpected tears.

Someone wrote this my American adventure was so stupid, it was very hard to believe. I can only say: 99 points for his power of observation, but zero points for the knowledge of a woman's heart. I know it was silly, particularly with the benefit of hindsight. And no-one needs to ask me from now on: what was your most embarrassing experience?

We had a very good time showing Trudy and Ben around, up and down and forwards and backwards through our Vorarlberg. It is always amazing how proud one becomes of one's own habitat when presenting it to guests. And they were very good guests: greatful and observant, and they wanted to know so much about everything. We were even hiking in the mountains for a few hours, on a wonderfully sunny and clear morning. It is spring now in the mountains - three weeks ago the was still snow, and now all the flowers are out, very bright, intensive colours, because their time to attract insects is only very short up there. All in all their visit was a great success, and when we took them to the train to travel on to Italy, they promised to be back again some day.

Helene was a wonderful driver and she used the time well to practice her rusty English and did amazingly well. Only once she created a little scandal when we came home on a hot evening all exhausted and hot, and she took off all her clothes righ next to the pool, put them on a neat pile and jumped into the water head-on. I thought Trudy and Ben's eyes would pop out altogether - this was a little much for their American tastes, and later, while drinking a bottle of Italian red, and all wearing some decent swimsuits (I had even dug out my baggy yellow one-piecer) they admitted they had never seen a naked person before - besides themselves, and each other, or on pictures - not even their parents, and then it was time for us to laugh and wonder about so much puritanism.

By the way: Phillip had mixed feelings about the outcome of the football championship. In his heart he was pleased about Spain winning like most Austrians, but professionally he had to deal with some people around the German team, which didn't make his job easier.

You're such good friends, my readers and writers of comments and messages, and an important part of my life. So thanks for your good advice, and your questions, and charming compliments, I appreciate them all so much. Kisses to all of you.

I was asked if I am close to my guests and what they mean to me, and I first have to say: not as close as some would love me to write about. But still it is quite a particular story and I'll try to give you a brief summary of it, while they have gone to bed already because it was a long, hot day and the hardly slept on the train from Prague last night.

When I was new to the internet, and pretty naive about what all this is about, I met a guy on yahoo I fell in love with. He was American, and very much my kind of person, he was a good talker, some kind of an outdoor person, a sensitive cowboy, who all the same had read ever so many books I knew. We exchanged addresses, even phoned now and then and promised to visit.

In summer there was a chance for me to travel to the USA professionally: at the last moment someone had called off his participation in some study weeks. I was offered the place, wrote to my American friend that I would come and was already gone when he wrote back that "for business reasons" we could not meet. I phoned him from New York and he came into town, and it was not one of my strongest moments that we had passionate sex in my hotel room.

But when my mind was clearer again I became suspicious because he didn't only have a lot of excuses why he could not take me back to his place, but looked quite different to what he had said, too, balding and a little chubby. Only his voice and what he said was as beautiful as ever. So I decided to go to his address the next day, which took me hours, and when I rang the bell, a woman in her forties open the door and looked at me quizzically. She was his wife, of course, a mother of four, and she didn't have a clue what her husband did online all the time. Because he was, as she said, a person who spent all his time indoors and was a little office employee somewhere.

I was open to her, and she phoned him to sleep somewhere else that night, and we had a long, serious talk. I also met her children, and it became obvious that the family had been in tatters even before this incident. They got divorced soon afterwards. We stayed in contact by mail, and some weeks ago I learnt that her daughter and her husband would come to Europe, so I invited them to stay with me for a few days. Why shouldn't I - I mean she could have been my daughter if all had gone the way I had been dreaming of, or almost.