swissbloke's Blog
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Friday, May 27, 2005, 1:07:53 PM- In the Cinema with Jacqueline | ||||||
She had promised to come to the cinema with me and I had to decide what film. My choice finally fell on a rerun of "Monster's Ball". We had to travel to Züich as it was shown in a little intimate studio cinema, but I planned to combine it with a meal. Why this film? It was done 2001 by a Swiss director, it was top quality .... Oscar stuff, and it was tragic - the way that you love not to be alone after seeing it and move a little closer together. And towards the end there is an exciting scene: the wonderful Halle Berry begs the male lead to have sex with her. "Make me feel good", she moans again and again, "please, I want you to make me feel good." And who would not love to oblige her ... The whole evening I behaved with as much self-control as I could: no grabbing in the dark, no lewd remarks, no sexual hints - I was all entertaining, listing, understanding, commiserating - in short, I was a friend. And when we parted before her house, she not only said with a smile that I had really made her feel good (!!!) but when I wanted to kiss her on both cheeks as we ritually do here, she stopped her face right before mine so that I could not help meeting her lips ... just short .... and then she left. Noone saw in the dark, how I was dancing home..... | ||||||
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Wednesday, May 25, 2005, 6:07:29 PM- The Black Eyes under the Headscarf | ||||||
She is all eyes, Sehnaz, the Turkish girl with the headscarf in my adults' class. She comes and goes without a smile, barely a nod. I have seen a dark, ferocious looking guy expect her after class and go away with her. Her husband no doubt, who wants her to learn German so that she can find a job. She is such an eager student - all wide eyes, and listening intently. Recently I said that I had some books with me, easy, simplified texts, good for beginners, and if anyone wanted to read one, they could just take it along and bring it back when they wanted. And Sehnaz had taken one, and today she brought it back and asked for another. One must have seen how she asked - this demure, shy, hesitant girl. For one moment she raised her head and dropped her guard - for a moment she looked me in the eyes and smiled - deep, black, eyes, with a golden glimmer in them which aimed directly at my heart - it started to race. Then she lowered her head, took the book, nodded and wordlessly left. | ||||||
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Monday, May 23, 2005, 6:49:23 PM- I did it again | ||||||
"It's easy to get hooked when you feel good and you are already going back for more!" is what my Moon-Goddess LUNNA wrote in her comment of May 17th to warn me. So thinking of her, I had decided not to go to Zürich on Friday night. I stayed home long, I tried to read, I tried to watch TV - and the I ran out to my car and set off. I am only human, I thought again and again - I am only human. And I ended up again as my student Consuela's dessert: I needed so badly what she gave me, and when she used her soft lips to raise me to heaven - I almost cried. And I snuggled against her desperately in her bed - and waking up in the small hours of the morning, we made slow motion love again in total darkness. I am only human, LUNNA ... I left soon in the morning; I gave her more than a hundred because she had said she was finacially pressed .... and I thought of my headmaster only when I was driving home on the motorway. | ||||||
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Sunday, May 22, 2005, 8:49:47 PM- A Party for Jaqueline and Me | ||||||
I had been insecure all week, but she did come, after all. I had prepared everything meticuluosly, set the table outside on the verandah, took the stereo out, had candles ready, and I cooked a meal that tastes really nice: Fish Saltinboca with Risotto and Fried Eggplants. I had also opened one of my best wines, a 1993 Barolo I had bought in Italy myself. Now if you expect the evening end in wild animalic sex, then you can stop reading for once. There is a time for sex, and there is a time for romance, for closeness, for two hearts to learn how to beat in time. I lit the candles after dusk, when the silhouettes of the trees melted into darkness and the birds stopped singing. We listened to the silence. After the food, there was a second bottle, and we talked. Quietly, almost intimately, we told each other of our lives. She spoke of her marriage and how it had ended in disaster. How hurt she was then. Her face in the candle light. Her fiery hair glowing. I could see every fluffy little hair on her bronze arms and cheeks. Her parted lips so soft. Her eyes. Her radiant, slighly melancholic smile. Her almost transparent white blouse whose top button was casually undone. What if she was wearing the panties I had worshipped for some days? After ten, it got colder and she said it was time for her to go. It had been beautiful, more beautiful than many things she had done lately. And she agreed going to the cinema with me once next week - and she did not flinch when I softly kissed her cheek to say goodbye. | ||||||
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Saturday, May 21, 2005, 10:36:40 AM- Ode to LUNNA | ||||||
ODE TO LUNNA, TO MY MOST FAITHFUL READER AND TO THE WONDERFUL WOMAN, TO SAY WHAT I FEEL FOR HER. Oh LUNNA, Moonchild - Erotic Goddess of the Night Shining wonderfully bright On the NN – firmament. Oh, LUNNA, Moonchild - Your round warm breast Leaves me no rest. Your pierced nipples Send me ripples Of pure lust. Oh, LUNNA, Moonchild - Erotic Goddess of the Night. Give to my pleasures Some more food And bring me further In the mood To worship you. | ||||||
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Friday, May 20, 2005, 6:35:39 PM- Panty Signals | ||||||
I had set my ladies' class a written task and they were eagerly leaning over their desks scribbling. This gave me time to go for a little walk behind their backs and to try reading their panty signals. From the twelve who are in my class now, ten were wearing jeans. Sehnaz, the Turkish girl with the headscarf, was dressed in a long black blouse and a skirt, and a middle-aged lady from Bosnia was hiding her ample body behind an oversized sweater. But the other ten in jeans were all flashing their panties. Undoubtedly a pleasure for all male teachers who set their female students written tasks. Three were wearing white cotton cookables of undefinable size and form, and - as I had expected - Consuela and Silvia were sporting the tiniest of thongs. Three showed some kind of bikini panties in gaudy colours, rather cheap material and thought for teenagers. Maybe they had kept them since those times and not bought any new ones meanwhile. Exciting was the unexpected - as usual. Eszter, the Hungarian girl with the keen interest for literature, was wearing thongs too. They were of a reddish silken material with lace, it looked rather expensive and very sexy. Like this, she appeared much more physical that her usual intellectual self. Pleasantly physical, I must add. But it was the last of them who almost swept me off my feet: A rather shy, rather plain looking Italian girl I had hadly noticed before did not only wear a mere nothing of black, tight strings, but under them and reaching out of her jeans, there showed a wonderfully voluptious, well-rounded, adorable - I have to use the word here - ass. Panty signals - what do they tell me? Were they a form of communication, as I hoped to believe? Or - were the ladies not even aware of how they were looking from behind, was it just accidental and a whim of fashion - because they were concentrating on their work? If there are any ladies reading this - can you help me? Do your panty signals have a purpose? | ||||||
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Wednesday, May 18, 2005, 5:46:18 PM- A Room with a View | ||||||
When I opened my bedroom window yesterday afternoon after work, Jacqueline was lying in her deckchair just a few metres away - over in her garden. I must admit I hadn't thought of her for a minute and not expected her there, I had flung open the window and here I was. And she - raised her hand, waved and said hello in a voice that sounded like music to me. And she gave me her warmest smile which directly pierced my heart. And we started to talk. Of her holiday in the South of Switzerland, of her and my garden, she even knew I had had my birthday on Sunday and she wished me good health and happiness. And I hoped our conversation would never end. Because all the time she was lying there, in a tight, black bikini which contrasted ever so well with her copper hair and her bronzed skin. He body was totally relaxed, she moved her limbs now and then, ever so slightly, rubbed one leg against the other, stretched a foot. Once her hand brushed over her tummy, a quick gesture only, and I imagined to feel every single soft hair of her glowing skin. I told her she had missed my little birthday party for friends on Sunday (there had been none) and she agreed to come over next Saturday early evening for an after-party in my garden, where we would have a glass of wine together. Just she and me. | ||||||
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Tuesday, May 17, 2005, 8:24:20 AM- An Awkward Feeling | ||||||
Entering class yesterday I had an awkward feeling: it was definitely the first time in my teaching career that I had not only slept with a student of mine, but also paid for it. For obvious reasons - I have always been teaching children before. I was a little afraid: Did they all know? Did they smirk when I entered? Did they sense the truth when I started talking to them? When the lesson started, it became obvious soon that it was like always. Sehnaz was as shy under her headscarf as ever, Eszter as eager to learn as ever. Only Consuela and Silvia, their midriffs barer than ever - so I felt - were sporting broad smiles and seemed to wink at me from their desk at the back of the room. She had told Silvia - of course. Had she depicted all to her, from one professional to the other, in meticulous detail, what she had done to me and what I had done to her? The lesson began, pronouncing difficult German words they had learnt as a homework. I must admit it was not easy for me to concentrate on the task - to tell Consuela how to move her lips - Consuela who had moved her lips on me so expertily ... At the written homework they handed in to me, I only looked in the evening. It was generally quite satisfactory, they were picking up the language gradually, only under Consuela's there was a postscript, right there in her exercise book, in her rather shaky, childlike hand, and in her even more shaky German: Why not do it again? Friday, same time, same place. | ||||||
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Sunday, May 15, 2005, 10:51:27 AM- Happy Birthday to Me | ||||||
Dear Swissbloke, dear me, You have now been around for 54 years, for good or for worse. It has not always been easy but you have managed. Everything could have turned out much worse - but of course also much better. You live alone in your house which is definitely too big for you. It seems it has always been waiting to house more people than now. It's your fault too: you should have said yes when the situation was structured that way. Why did you always doubt that you could live with that girl for always and ever? You were always longing for the next one, for the new thrill, for your heart to tell you - this is her. And your heart never did when the time was ripe. So cheers, dear me, let's behead the bottle and drink to myself - to my life as it is and as it might be. And let's have more of that sex you are used to so well. As Woody Allen put it: "Masturbation is sex with someone you really love." I wish myself all the best Swissbloke PS: When you hurry, you will be the second person to congratulate. Just leave a message. PSPS: Jacqueline seems to be back. | ||||||
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Saturday, May 14, 2005, 12:13:14 PM- A Glass to Empty and a Pussy to Fill | ||||||
What is on your mind on a Friday night? It is definitely the above, so I decided to go to Zürich, where I had heard Consuela and Silvia from my German class were working. They had told me in an oral exercise about work; so I knew the name of the bar where they were supposed to be found. Why not show some social interest for one's students, I may ask? I took the train because the laws concerning drunk driving are fairly strict here, and there are controls galore. From the main station I took the tram and I walked until I found the place in question. I had never been there. I saw Consuela as soon as I had entered and she didn't even appear surprised to see me. From the group of men and women she was taking to came uproarious laughter, but she left them, came over to me and said how nice it was of me to visit her at work. She would be busy for one more hour, but then she would have time for me and I should sit and have a drink. She went back to the gaudy group and soon left with a middleaged guy in her tow. It took close to two hours till she was back, I had drunk a few and talked to some other customers and a girl behind the bar, when she sat next to me. I asked her if she liked her job and all and she laughed and said it was the same all over the place. Of course, I had been right with my guess about her from the beginning. And she proved her professional skills to me on the very evening, over in her room. She said I was the last for today and called me her dessert, and she did all to make her German teacher feel very very good. She cannot be more than 25, while I am twice her age. Already this was a special treat for me. Such a young, firm, trim body. I came three times with her - a near record for years - once inside her rather soon as I was so excited and she so tight, once between her wonderfully demanding lips and once during the night when I woke and she was gently rubbing me hard and inserted me into her and we were rocking gently, wordlessly, eternally in the dark of her nightly bad. My last thought before falling asleep in her arms was rather awkward: what would the principal of our school say when she saw me here? | ||||||
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