Ski Holidays in the past - some of the readers who have aged with me in the past years may remember - used to be quite a wild experience. When I was young and independent - still two years ago - I used to spend Christmas time and often my winter holidays in a hotel which only caters for singles. So after skiing there was always party feeling - for food there were big tables and you just sat down where you wanted - the management encouraged their guests never to sit on the same chair twice. There was disco and dancing and it could happen that in the hotel jacuzzi, where champagne was served, people grew closer and there was fondling and even more. There are all single rooms, but with wide beds, so during the night you could hear love-making noises from all over the hotel. There were always some attractive guys to help me make my nights pleasant, and I never felt lonely for a minute.

I'm recalling this here for contrast: the week I just spent with Timo was a bilateral affair of a quality I have never experienced before. I don't want to complain, and I haven't told Timo the way I'm doing now, as he has no idea of my past contrasts anyway, and I must admit the holidays had their very nice moments all the same. It was how a well-to-do middle-aged couple may spend their holidays together: sitting at the same table alone during meals, reading the newpaper over breakfast, having quiet conversations about how to plan the day, going for a little walk arm in arm through the town in the evening and ending up in the hotel bar for a good-night drink. Such a lot of deep, serious conversations I have not had since the death of my parents.

Then falling asleep in each others arms, nice and cuddly. We only fucked three times all week - less than when I spent my holidays as a single. And we always did it nicely and in a civilised way, twice while spooning an once he carefully lay on top of me but asked me several times if he was not crushing me. To avoid this seems to be an obsession of his, although he is not even a middle-weight. Once I started sucking his cock and he thought it was not what he cared for most, it was kind of pornographic - and locked me into a very long, very emotional embrace for a long, long time. I admit: I hate guys who only want to fuck me and then roll off and sleep - but the absolute contrary is honestly frightening me.

What do I need then, and what do I want? And is both the same?

That is life at its best ! Me on my skis - on a crisp, cold, clear morning when the snow is still powdery and there are not too many people. A last look around over the white glittering mountain tops - and then I lean forward, feel the pull of gravity and start gliding down the mountain slope. Soon I find my rhythm - left, right - left, right - and feel the cold air on my face. But inside there is all song - and my soul flies over the mountains and all is just very, very good. Oh, how much I like skiing. The picture above is from the St. Anton site - but you can imagine me just like this - what a wonderful, sunny, fantastic week of wintersports.

And now I am back, and in my garden it's spring, and this afternoon I start cleaning my pool. What a contrast.

My dear friends,
all is ready and I will be leaving in a about two hours. Wish me luck that all goes well with Timo and that we grow closer. Have a wonderful time yourselves, and may all your wishes come true, too. Hopefully, I will be back in about 10 days - relaxed, with a sun-tan and all happy.
Kiss you all,
Alpina

One more school day - three lessons to be exact - and then I will have two weeks holidays. I will be skiing with Timo for 10 days and for the last week I have no plans yet. I am looking forward to having a good rest after all the excitement of this term, and to doing some sports, and to feeling my body and not just always working out my mind. There is so much my body would love to feel.

What my body feels like most at the moment is being thoroughly fucked. Not just made love to romantically, and being held and whispered sweet nothings into my ear. And it's not just having sex, either - this sounds too much of a basic ration of heterosexual functionality - no, getting a real good fuck is what I want - mindlessly and wild. I don't know if you understand what I mean. I want to be taken, and thrown up into the air, and torn into pieces, and then be healed from the only point that matters in the world - the eternal, celestial, all-embracing feeling of cock rubbing against my pussy. This - and no less - is what I need and what I want.

Thanks, depotguy, last of the Commenting Mohicans, for being still here. In spite of the fact, that you don't seem to have been treated nicely last time you were in our Alpine Republic: "I'd go see Maria! Please tell her to spread the word to be nice to me next time I visit" is what you wrote.

I don't know where exactly you were - maybe just in Vienna? Vienna is not Austria - as little as New York is America. And in some well-known tourist places they are just after your money - not after you as a person.

Maybe the average Austrian is a little reserved as far as strangers are concerned, wherever they come from. Part of it is just modesty - why bother someone by talking to him unasked - he might not like it. But if you have won someone's trust, he or she is usually very reliable and open and will do for you whatever you ask them (if you don't ask for too much, LOL).

So come again, travel to the countryside and find out yourself.

It was just too much - after correcting essays all day yesterday I felt so very tired. I just wanted to sleep a little after 7 pm, but I fell asleep without having eaten and only woke up after midnight with a terrible headache, and when I tried to get up my empty stomach cramped and I vomited several times until I felt all mangled and broken. And as if this was not enough - my period had started, exactly with the full moon, but still a little early - and everything was full of blood.

Well, this is not bad for the holidays - I had been worrying it would come Thursday or Friday and spoil some initial holiday fun. But what shall I do with the Editor - I better tell him I guess, so that he does not waste any Viagra on me. Maybe after all my body was responding to the stress of the last two weeks.

Anyway, I phoned in and told the school secretary I wouldn't come today. Then I turned and slept until noon, and now I am feeling much better, still a little dizzy, but I have started preparing tomorrow's lessons.

Timo and I circle around each other like dancers, or like fighters who are looking for their opponent's strengths and weaknesses before doing a decisive step. We are both too old and too experienced to rush into a relationship head on, just because we like each other and have had some good sex. What would our expectations be, and where our limits, what could we agree to and what would absolute no-nos be - IF we did - eventually and under certain circumstances - agree to a permanent union - which would mean marrige, although we carefully avoid the word.

We are like careful negotiators at some peace talks: what would the new common world look like, and how far would each party go to come to an arrangement?

I have heard so much: Timo would love to have children and be there for them, in a monogamous relationship in which both partners shared their duties and contributed to bread-winning. They would leave each other enough room to be themselves, but be physically faithful. They would be totally open to each other and have no secrets which might impair the relationship. They would be good parents to their children, do the very best for them and allow them a childhood in healthy and well-ordered surroundings and not in a fragmented and torn world as so many people do.

And one decisive question was hovering in the air unasked: could I be this partner?

Ruth: Some of you may remember the professor's wife, who I only got familiar with after I had slept with her husband Friedrich, who unfortunately died lately of cancer. Ruth is 76 now, but still sexually active, although she was not with her late husband who had thought she was beyond that. But she was only beyond him, and for quite some time had a lover in his 50s and always told me of what she did with him. I remember the time well when she asked me if women really sucked guy's cocks and I told her that yes, they did, and she tried it for the first time in her life.
She has moved in now with a man a little her senior, a former colleage of her husband's with who she shares a lot of interests, alas not sex. So she still takes herself a younger lover now and then, although she says that the rush in her blood is gradually dying down, too. She would love to do it again with a guy in his 2os like when she was in Italy last year. That's why she is planning on spending some time there this summer.

I don't meet her as often as before, but we phone now and then. Last time we met she told me she was still wearing the same kind of underwear like me, the tiny black cotton thongs, and her mischievous eyes looked as young as ever.

After a long day of work yesterday, there was a little reception for one of our janitors who will be retired soon (not the one I mentioned before, LOL) He has been one of the good souls of our school for three decades and everybody will miss him. That's why so many people came to his party. Afterwards I was so tired that I fell asleep before I could think of writing my daily blog.

This is going to be a weekend full of marking tests and correcting essays, like every weekend before my holidays. Timo will come tonight and he promised to cook something for me, and he will spend the night here. Next Wednesday I will be at the Editor's although I do not know what his present state of health is, but his scented letter said he was owing me some dinner I had missed lately. I don't know if this is a code for more, but I will be ready.

Then, on Thursday night, my Easter holidays will begin, and I will go skiing with Timo for 10 days, and relax as much as I can. What I will be doing in the second week, I am not sure. There are a few options; one of them is seeing Maria in Vienna.

I have read Gio's long and detailed tale of marital sex, and when I ended I had some tears in my eyes, I was so sad. How much love there is in his words for the sexually indifferent woman at his side, how much understanding. If only she could offer the food which would nurish him, everything would be fine. But she can't, or doesn't want to, or has never eaten this food herself, or is never even hungry. So she makes him starve. Gio describes her and the little sexuality he gets as lovingly as I have seen prisoners descibe the stale piece of bread they are handed now and then. And what joy when it is a little more on a random day. All is a question of perspective. Still - how can anyone who could physically offer so much offer so little?

Is that maybe what would happen to me, if I gave in to monogamy? What will happen after the one hundredth repetiton, what after the one thousandth? Will my fire just burn down for lack of fuel, will my sexuality gradually sink into a coma and wither? Will his sexuality die down, and I'll be lying next to him full of desire and despair? Will I masturbate with frustration? Can I ever turn into a good prisoner and adore the little pieces of stale bread I may be given?

I adore Gio for his patience and his love. But I fear I could never be as good as he.