The book I bought is "The Kite Runner" by Khaled Hosseini, about the happy youth of the boy Amir in pre-war Afghanistan who later emigrates to the USA when the country is taken over first by the Russians and then, even worse, by the fundamentally extremist Taliban. It's a very famous book and I have heard from several people that it is fantastic, but it's also immensely sad - it shows once more how wonderful life could be if all people knew how to live. I have only read the beginning and have already been crying - but then I do this ever so often when reading.

Dinner with Traudl and Veronika last night - only so much: I lost control and feel bad about it. Later in the evening, when having the choice of tasting Traudl, the girl like milk and honey, again - I couldn't help opting for her. Something was too strong in me. She does taste like nothing in the world. How can I get an orgasm without any physical stimulation - just by this taste? I didn't really want to, I had never thought of it, but I happened. I think it was a scam from the beginning: Traudl wanted me to perform, and Viktoria wanted to see.

Viktoria had driven me there in a car, but then they drank so much it was impossible to take me back. They had wanted me to stay over from the beginning. Late I ordered a taxi and it cost me half a fortune to get home. Traudl is just too dangerous for me, I should have known.

I slept in a little this morning, had breakfast with Angelika and now I am off to town to do my usual shopping. I'm meeting Ruth at 11.30 in a café for a light lunch, but before I have to buy a suitable present for tonight, when I visit Traudl and her Veronika. I wonder what could please them. I'm still feeling good and a little frisky, there is no better feeling that being well-fucked, as Tanja always says, but I guess she is after this feeling even more often than I.

I also want to go to the bookshop and see if I find a good English novel to read on this pretty uneventful weekend which I'll spend very quietly, besides this dinner tonight. But I guess this won't take long and I feel a lot like immersing myself into a new unknown literary world again - I haven't had any time for this for so long. We'll see.

All day I felt like flying - with my head in the clouds. During the lunch break I had to put on my emergency ersatz - panties with I keep in the locker at the staff room because the ones I had put on in the morning were so soaked. I seem to have been humming tunes all the time, and the students asked me why I was so exceptionally cheerful. Only some older girls smiled some smiles which told me they might know - from their own experiences.

I'll go over to Elsie's now, she was at a staff meeting and must be home by now. This all has to be talked over, and I must see how she feels. Some of my friends thought she might get addicted to Aldo, but I don't think she will. I don't either, although he does me so good - but stamina and size do not make the whole guy - he is one to be fucked by, not to stay with for any length of time. I wonder how she feels - I hope it did her a lot of good and opened her eyes so that she sees now how big the world is and now much pleasure it can offer to those who are ready to notice.

I first had a drink with Aldo when he arrived at my house and told him again what the situation was: namely that Elsie is in an experimenting phase of her life, that she hasn’t had sex with anyone but her husband for almost twenty years and that she would love to find out what it feels like to be promiscuous. He thought this was quite exciting, and he kindly inquired if he could include me into the love-making, too. Such a sweet guy – he had not the slightest idea how horny I had been for days, and full of expectation.

I noticed from the first moment on that they liked each other even if they had never met before, and I could see Elsie gasp when Aldo undressed and she saw his body and his cock, although he was not even hard – something so big had never come her way all her life. We had some Prosecco in the tub, and chatted cheerfully – Aldo was between us and he had put his arms over our shoulders. The moment came when Elsie could not hold back any longer, and she touched him under water and anxiously felt him grow in her hands. It was time to leave the tub and move over to the bedroom.

The crisis came, when we entered the bedroom and Elsie suddenly felt that she could not do it on her marital bed, and if we could not go to my place, because doing it here was not right. But I told her Angelika was home, and it was here or never. This convinced her – and we began. Aldo likes me to carefully roll a condom over his cock, and that’s what I did, it’s like some ritual when we are together – and then he started to fuck us two girls, thoroughly and with great care. First Elsie, because it was her evening, while I was lying beside her and held her hand – till she was jerking from side to side uncontrollably and emitting short pointed shouts, and her orgasm didn’t take an end. Then he fucked me, and it was pure heaven – it felt like torrential rain in the driest of deserts – until I was lying there soaked and gasping for air – and then he turned to Elsie again, took her hands from her pussy where they had been playing, and held them firm like handcuffed over her head while he entered her again, as deep as it went – it looked as if she had been caught by a giant machine which was tearing her all apart. She was almost xxxxxxxxxxx with lust when he turned to me again and I sank into total abandonment.

I knew what would come, but it caught Elsie by surprise and it made her almost lose her mind – as we two totally exhausted girls were lying side by side, he kneeled up, took off his condom, and then he squirted his sperm all over us – our tummies, breasts, and faces, and some even in our hair, and for a moment it seemed his stream would never end. Elsie’s eyes had an almost mad look when she turned over to me and started to lick every little drop of his warm cum from my glowing skin.

That was Aldo Day – and it was a feast of the senses, a festival of lust, and a celebration of life at its best. It was definitely one of these moments in life worth living for.

Wow, Gio, so much reading and commenting in one day - you must have taken a day off from work. It's nice to see you around and I hope I won't have to miss you again for so long. Thanks for your offers, guys, I really got some tempting ones - it seems that there are still a handfull of people who would risk a sin in my presence. Such a good feeling for an aging woman, LOL.

Yesterday evening I did some sports again with Elsie; this time we went to a studio for older people, which is recommended by doctors and supervised by professionals, to see if it suited us better. We both had put on cute gym tops, but in this case they may have been a little too low cut, as some older guys in too long socks, too short pants and white, sweaty finerip undershirts almost fell from their fitness machines while turning for us.

Under the shower I had to describe Aldo's physical assets again, which are very considerable, as I have mentioned before. Elsie is dreadfully excited and really horny for tomorrow, and I must admit it's quite contagious, so we both had to keep our fingers from becoming too independent in case someone came it. I will certainly want to get my share of Aldo's attention, too, and with his stamina he can give us what we both need. And I can be sure that he does not suddenly become awkward and ask for some lesbian stuff or things. Just good, plain, wonderful fucking until we beg for peace. And what Aldo then will want to do with us is known to anyone who is an attentive and long-standing reader of my blog. And I don't mind at all, if he does.

I asked Angelika over breakfast if working as an escort put her into any moral dilemma, to which she answered that it did put her into a dilemma, but not moral one. For her it was not a question of personal values, she didn't feel bad or guilty about it in any way and it was not a question of conscience. But it was certainly a social problem, which means that a majority of people still thought that such services were degrading and despicable.

In her experience it's often the same people who in public denounce what she does as prostitution and call girls like her whores who privately buy themselves such sexual favours if they can afford it. Often, she thinks, they do not even know what hypocritical, two-faced bastards they are, among them many politicians and other public figures who preach water and drink wine, and I can certainly agree with this view. The builder who was arrested when she was there is an active member of a political party, too, which stands for traditional family values and Christian principles. But this does not seem to interfere in any way with his actual life.

Could I be an escort? Angelika did away with my illusions swiftly - with 25 she herself had almost reached an age where she was no longer asked for. She thinks I look much too self-confident and intellectual - although she reckons that there might be some kind of a market for my type - men who are really only looking for an esort, to the theatre or the opera, or want to have someone entertaining to accompany them to a dinner or some official function. A niche market in a branch where no sex is required is what she concedes to me then - thanks a lot, sweety!!

Could I do it morally? Certainly yes - but I would have the same social concerns. As a teacher I would be dead if anyone found out. Still, I think I'd certainly meet some interesting people. And, dear Angelique, I could certainly offer many of them a deal they'd be ready to pay for, I am almost sure of that. Are there any offers?

I was reminded today by a dear reader of mine that having one's pussy used at a swingers club is not in any way better than renting it out for money as an escort, because in both situations there is no love involved - a point of view I can totally agree with. And I am glad I have been told, because it seems that my blog gave the impression that I had some moral qualms or that I would in any way condemn Angelika. If it looked like this, I am very sorry about not making myself completely clear.

Incidentally I read some articles about escort services in both a Swiss magazine and an Austrian newspaper lately. Both agreed that it is absolutely surprising who is selling their bodies to well paying clients. What surprises even experts is that it's women of all social groups, particularly a lot of students from good, middle class families. They think that on the one hand, there are no religious or moral concerns for these girls, which is very typical for young people here. On the other hand, many women have become aware of the material value of their beautiful bodies - so all that remains is a business transaction. "I have something they want: my body, and they have something I want: their money", said one of the portrayed girls, a law students, in the article. "So where is the problem?"

Yes, in a world where material success has top priority: where is the problem? Tell it to your daughters, my friends, or ask them if they have already noticed themselves.

We have decided that Angelika is staying with me for the time being, and she promised to do the chores and make sure there is some food on the table when I come back from school. She also offered to pay me for accommodation now I know how much she has been earning, but obviously I refused to accept. For me she is still what she always used to be: Phillip's sweet daughter, whatever she does with her body.

Another week begins. A few more, and it's Christmas, and then another year. And another year. And another. My life is a never ending string of little events, and still it is always the same. Isn't it time for a big change? But I am still reluctant to take the plunge.

But for the time being it's some fitness tomorrow. It's Jacuzzi on Thursday with Aldo: Elsie will experience having sex with another man for the first time in almost 20 years - and I am assisting her by organising the guy. But I trust Aldo. And on Saturday I'll visit Traudl and Veronika. Some of you may remember Traudl, the Elf. The girl who tastes like milk and honey, and who lives now together with her girl-friend Veronika.

What else? Lunch with Tanja, if our schedules match. I ought to see Ruth again, she phoned me lately. Maria has found a managing job with a big charity organisation - in Vienna. Her beautiful flat is for sale. Besides that - work, work, and work.

She is asleep now.

"Have you never asked yourself why I was always having a lot of free time, wearing expensive clothes and just travelling by plane and taxi?" Angelika had asked me yesterday afternoon as we were sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee. Actually I had never thought anything in this direction - she was the stepdaughter of a wealthy builder and was working as a journalist, she met classy people and could not appear in rags. She had arrived by taxi, but I had thought from the train station. With me, she had always been very modest, unusually so for a young girl, rather housewifey even, when you think of how she cared for my house and how often she cooked my food.

What had happened was this: about two years ago she had started to now and then work for an escort service when she needed money. It was an organisation who had specialized on young, good-looking, ordinary girls for sexual services to rich clients who came to Vienna and wanted to have fun. I wasn't too bad a job and I would be surprised how many young women did it, and there was good money. The clients were usually cultivated and nice, and on a good night she could easily earn 2000 Euros or more, when some extras were asked for.

But now a regular client, who had recently asked for her because he had found out that she was the stepdaughter of a fellow builder, was arrested last weekend and she had been there, too. The police had let her go within minutes, but her client was a well-known figure and although there hadn't been anything in the papers so far, it was only a question of time until her name was all over the front page in big letters. Although she called herself Angelique and used the French maiden name of her mother, her step father's name was known to the arrested, and if he spilt the beans to the press, she would be in severe trouble.

I would never ever have expected that: the lovely and pure Angelika - a top class whore. Why can people never be what you think they are?

After putting down her surprisingly heavy suitcase and kissing me on both cheeks, Angelika said, "You have met Jean-Baptiste, and he fucked you all night long?" - "He told you everything, did he?" was all I could think of saying. "Oh no, I have not met him since we were in your house", she said cheerfully, "but when we were here, I could read it all over your face, how much you'd love to, and that's why I phoned you when I saw in the paper that they were going to play in your region. I hope it was as good as my night with him, my dear future stepmother." - Stepmother? Goodness, she is Phillip's daughter and up to now I have never reavealed my private life to her - how much more imbecile than that can a sudden onrush of hormones make me?

" .... you didn't come because of Jean-Baptiste?" I must have kind of stuttered this question. "Oh on, he was just a whim of mine, I have come because of something much more serious and need your advice and shelter for some time. I have talked with my father about it (my Phillip !!) and he said you were the person to trust and to ask for advice." - "Oh, you've been on the phone with him" - as if I was the only person Phillip would ever contact in this way. I was really confused. "No, I flew over for a couple of days so that we could talk about it face to face, I thought I had to", she said. Flying over - not bad for a student like her. I must have looked pretty incredulous.

And then she told me what I would never have thought possible - but I'll relate that tonight because I can hear her stir downstairs and we're having brunch together now, and I'd love to be with her.