swissbloke's Blog
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Friday, May 13, 2005, 4:03:01 PM- A Visit | ||||||
When my doorbell rang and I opened the door, the old Indian guy from down the road was standing outside. Usually he was smiling all over his face, but today he looked straight at me and said in a very, very serious voice: "For the sake of honesty and humanity, please hand me over what you took from our friend Jacqueline's washing line the other day. She will be back tomorrow." And on his flat hand, there was an unobtrusive, grey plasic bag which he gave to me ceremoniously. The old girl had noticed. Very embarrassing. And yet - they had not come on the same evening to claim my booty, they had left it in my possession until the very last moment. Dear old souls. Of course I still had it. I had neither mutilated it nor soiled it with my seed, I had kneeled before it and maybe shed a tear into its crotch. I had worn it in my pocket for a few days, I had honoured it and felt close to its usual wearer and the parts worn on. Just once I had taken it out during a lesson with my ladies and in a xxxxxxxxxxx gesture started to clean my glasses with it, but I had noticed in time and shoved it back into my pocket. "Juliette will wash it tonight and hang it back, and all will be good tomorrow", he said as I handed over the plastic bag with the corpus delicti, and from my window I saw him carry it home down the road, with outstretched hands, as if he was carrying something which was burning his fingers. | ||||||
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Wednesday, May 11, 2005, 12:18:38 PM- The Tooth of St. Basil | ||||||
In some church I visited years ago, they keep a nail from the cross of Jesus Christ. In our local church they keep a tooth of St. Basil and display it on special occasions and religious holidays. In my pocket there is Jacqueline's panties - and the feelings they arouse in me are close to being religious. (There are at least parts of me that want to rise heavenwards constantly.) Oh, Sainte Jaqueline, first among women, answer my prayers. Oh, Sainte Jaqueline, save my lusting soul. PS: I hope the fact that noone commented on my blog yesterday is not because they think me too base to notice now. PSPS: I have looked long at the place in the panties which has actually touched her most tender spot. And by touching it I have touched her. Never have I felt closer to her than at this moment. | ||||||
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Tuesday, May 10, 2005, 3:28:03 PM- Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa | ||||||
Coming home this afternoon from lessons, driving along our road, I overtook Juliette who was walking along. Juliette is a woman of Indian origin who lives a few houses down the road from me. She is in her fifties, as age as sexless, and married to an elderly Indian guy who before his retirement had worked at the local hospital. When his two daughters came of age, his Swiss wife left him; after some time of loneliness he phoned home to India to have a new wife organised, one who did not have airs and would stay with him. An India woman, as it is. Juliette was heading straight towards Jacqueline's house, and when I parked my car she caught up with me and told me that Jacqueline was away for a few days and that she, Juliette, had volunteered to feed the cat, Mowgli by name. But she had not found him when she had come over at noon. I offered to help her find the animal and we called his name a few times, then Juliette disappeared by the cellar door and I heard her call Mowgli all through the house. I looked in, too. Now you have to know that here in Switzerland all houses have cellars, and there is always a back door leading into a basement room where there is a washing machine and contraptions to hang up the laundry. And that was what I was coming upon: on a line slightly above my head, there was Jacqueline's laundry which she had left behind when she went off. More exactly, I faced a row of the most beautiful panties, just above my nose, crisp and clean and waiting patiently for their lovely owner to come back and cover her essentials with. And then my thinking stopped - and all went very fast. I grabbed some particularly beautiful, black string panties, shoved them in my pocket and moved the others on the line so that none seemed to be missing. Meanwhile the old girl had found the cat and fed it. When she came out and carefully locked the door, I was already standing outside. What had I done? PS: I have not stolen them, I have just borrowed them for a time. Is that an excuse someone would believe and I would come away with? I mean: I borrowed them for what exactly? I mean ... | ||||||
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Monday, May 9, 2005, 4:23:04 PM- Nothing Special | ||||||
Thanks to the 160 people who stumbled into my blog, thanks to the few who read it. Like you, dear Lunna, who did not only write encouraging comments but also a wonderful personal message. What a woman. Lucky he who gets noticed by such a wonderful personality. Lucky me. Gradually I feel a little awkward going out onto the porch naked in the early mornings and stay there for some cold minutes. No trace of Jaqueline. But there was a middleaged lady who walked her dog this morning who saw me and audibly shrieked - I hope she won't phone the police (which may happen in this country). I invited my ladies' class for a drink this afternoon, but not many of them came. Sehnaz, the Turkish girl with the headscarf, was picked up by her husband I think, a dangerous looking, darkish chap; she barely dared smile at me. So there were about five of them only, among them Consuela and Silvia whose midriffs seem to be bare all over the year. They even asked for a second drink and laughed a lot and I thought they would bring themselves into a good mood for the evening shift. I definitely think they earn their money with their bodies. Eszter from Hungary is interested in literature, too, so we talked a little about books she knew, but all went home soon - to all the men who were waiting, I thought - not without envy, to be honest. PS: Jacqueline's house looks abandonned, all windows closed. Might she be on holiday? | ||||||
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Sunday, May 8, 2005, 2:34:48 PM- Thanks, Helen | ||||||
Thanks, Helen, for remembering me and opening up to me - even after all these years. And Helen, although you're going towards 60, you still know how to please a man. So thanks for your soft lips on my cock, thanks for the urgency with which you wished to taste my cum. And thanks for the way you spread your legs and welcomed me in. Thanks for the way you held me afterwards. I told you I would write about you here at NN and you could read how good a lover you still are. So: Thanks for all, Helen. | ||||||
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Friday, May 6, 2005, 1:48:33 PM- The Ultimate Blowjob | ||
Rain again and no trace of my neighbour. So I travel through the NN-Community again on the search for views or texts that appeal to my emotion. And I think some pictures posted under the nick of "Sexy Suz" do this to a very high degree. Whoever posted them is not that important, she - which is not likely - her husband, her lover, her friend more possibly. Because you can see the pictures were not made for publication, but for each other. Look at the love you see in her eyes, the intimacy, the trust. And some of her blowjob pictures are the best I have ever seen. She really, really likes what she does, it's not the cock in her mouth which does this, it's the love for the person whose cock she has taken in her mouth. And sucked. And she receives its cum with joy and swallows it - like the wine during holy communion. It's your intensity and dedication which have made me hard, Sexy Suz, apart from your radiant beauty. | ||
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Thursday, May 5, 2005, 3:09:18 PM- Ascension or: My Stairway to Heaven | ||||||
A public holiday here, Ascension, so time to rest. But when I saw that the sun was shining, my heartrate accellerated and pumped blood like hell, you could see it in my pants all morning. If my feeling about the state of the situation was right, the sun would lure Jacqueline out which would lure me to my window again. The waiting hours were long. But then she came - und carried her deckchair to a place which I could not only see from my first floor window but from my bedroom, which is way closer. Was that a sign? She was reading and her face was behind her book almost all the time. Not a bad novel, by the way, recently written by a young Swiss author. She showed taste. Now her body .... it is not young, not a girl's, you could see, a woman's, used for work as a nurse, used in childbirth, but still slim, firm smallish breasts, perky pink nipples. Her legs slender, too, and spread again, ever so slighly rubbing against each other, vibrating. I could almost feel how her skin drank up the sun, how it warmed up, developed tiny pearls of sweat. I don't have to say what I did behind the curtain - and I did it twice. Oh god, Jacqueline ... PS: I mentioned she is a redhead, with hair like a lion's, firm, thick strands of hair. And her pussy's the same colour, but not curly as you usually find it, but straight too, even as thick, covering her crotch almost completely. Hair to kneel before. Hair to bury one's face in for ever and a day. PSPS: If you were my neighbour, sweet "longhotshowers", I would certainly have to act in exactly the same way. | ||||||
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Wednesday, May 4, 2005, 2:05:34 PM- Three Cheers for an Elderly Couple | ||||||
Thanks 'juicy' and 'longhotshowers' for taking notice of me favourably. You encourage me. And I admit, Allen and Louise, what I said yesterday about poor Lynndie England was not fair - and that as a foreigner I should shut up and not say ugly things about an American soldier who was fighting for her country. But I was so sorry when I saw her in my newspaper. All these nude Iraqi soldiers who exposed their genitals in front of her and even piled up in homosexual mockery to embarrass her. Or the sado-masochist who rolled himself in the dust and xxxxxx her to hold his dog's lead. Awful. Roaming through the NN-Community I mused over the pictures sent in: So many men proudly flying their penises and displaying their wifes' well-worn pussies. And among all the desperate anonymity, I came upon the pictures of Dave and Jane, under the nick of 'Dave077'. Look, how wonderful they are! Age has worn off some of their beauty, they are not models according to pornographic myth. But they lie there - fully relaxed. Jane tenderly holds Dave's erigated dick; his caring hand even as tenderly explores her pussy. Look at their smiles - how they feel at ease. How proud they are of each other. And look into their eyes - their sexuality and their lust makes them look alive, vital and young. Three cheers for these two elderly lovers. Looking round the all women's class they gave me to teach, I cannot help wondering what fate has brought them my way. The Turk girl with her headscarf. The African queen with her suspicious eyes. The two Hispanic looking ladies with their bare midriffs. I am almost sure the driving force behind them being here is men: who took them along, who they want to marry - if I am not mistaken: to who they sell themselves. And the language I teach them is supposed to be the key to their future happiness. I'll see what I can do for them. PS: I met Jacqueline on my way to the letterbox this morning. She was fully dressed, of course, and her smile might have been a little enigmatic. How would she have looked if she had known that I knew that under those clothes she was totally, ever so totally naked? PSPS: Listen to that:"The boy asked the girl to say 'I love you' into his can. Then he covered it with a lid and put her love for him on a shelf in his closet. Of course, he could never open the can, because then he would lose its contents. It was enough just to know it was there." (Jonathan Safran Foer: "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" Just B E A U T I FU L !!! | ||||||
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Tuesday, May 3, 2005, 5:04:00 PM- Rain | ||||||
Jacqueline was not out on the porch this morning - it had been cooling down over night and rain had come over us. I was there, and naked, and looking out, but in vain. But all has become so green, I notice, and is in full bloom - the garden a paradise - just Eve from over there is missing. The apple tree is in place. No snake to be seen so far. As I couldn't be out in the sun, I was getting familiar with the NN-Community, finding my way around all the pics, profiles and blogs. All has such a raw uncensored quality, which I like, unglossy, life-like, desperate. And now and then some intimate pictures - like exotic islands - showing faces in the sea of impersonal pussy-insides. And Penis Forests. Doing some reading. For those who also enjoy a good read, see here: http://www.themorningnews.org/archives/personalities/birnbaum_v_jonathan_safran_foer.php PS: Would a little salute to poor Lynndie England be appropriate here - she who featured in the most pornographic pictures of the last year? PSPS: Thanks to the three people who stumbled into my blog since yesterday. | ||||||
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Monday, May 2, 2005, 8:23:20 PM- My First Day, and: J. is not only a redHEAD | ||||||
The first day at the new school is over. The gave me an all ladies class - no wonder, in the afternoon. Most of them immigrants who are eager to learn German, in order to get a job, a new living, a husband maybe. Shy and expectantly they looked at me, maybe I was looking as bewildered as they did. The rest of the day I lay in the garden, having time to read: "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" by Jonathan Safran Foer. Such a read. "I did not need the know if she could love me. I needed to know if she could need me." Wow, yes. Yesterday afternoon, it was sunny and pleasant, I looked down from my first floor window. Jacqueline was lying in the sun - did she enjoy being unobserved or being observed? Her kids were obviously out, if not she usually wears a one-piece bathing suit fit for a granny.And she is not only a redHEAD, not at all!!! Lying there, and all she wore were sunglasses.Her thighs slighly parted, as if to let some cooling air pass. To dry what had become moist?? And while I was masturbating desperately behind the drawn curtains while my eyes were drinking her,I could not help feeling that this world is definitely cruel. PS: Thanks, kimberleigh, for your lovely message. It was the first ever. And it made me look at your pics again and again. And again. | ||||||
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