A Little Bit of Glamour - I am presuming Eastern European style...

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I've Been Away But Now I'm Back

I have been busy.

Chelsea is once again awash with school girls on their summer holidays. I have had to specialise. I have had to look further afield. You understand, don't you?

Wonderland was wonderful, Torture Garden was packed with naughty young girls whilst Club Rub was too full of couples and lacked a sense of fun.

I am not a fan of men who dress up as women. Just doesn't do it for me. Ladies are my style.

I very much enjoyed meeting Jodie and friends. Now Jodie is a young lady who is ravishingly good looking, loves watching girls spanking one another and tells me that she gets turned by it. I had to offer to spank her there and then. Trouble was she wasn't shackled - we'd only just met. A good kisser if somewhat wayward and indiscriminate.

The Hogsex Society met at Soho House last week. My word Soho House is full of drunk slappers nowadays. The one I had my eye on could barely walk - so I left her. One of the members of the Society requested that I escort her to Coco de Mer in the morning. I agreed at once.

So there I was at 9.30am on Monmouth Street, WC2, having a wonderful coffee and waiting for her. Unbelievably, It was her first visit. I invested in a wooden paddle (annoyingly logoed) and a nice silk blindfold. She complained that the dildos and vibrators were too small. There wasn't much I could do to help.

It turns out that one of the Soho sex shops was open, you know one of those sex souvenir shops full of made-in-China stuff, and she found what she was looking for for £29.99. "A bargain" she said when I saw her unexpectedly in the evening. Better by a mile than her ex-boyfriend.

I have been complaining about lack of action recently. What I am supposed to do dear blog reader? I am not so in your face. Maybe I should be. The situation is so dire that my masseur has started to think she might get something out of me. Mind you, she gave me a great massage on Friday after the visit to Coco-de-Mer and I was getting quite excited I can tell you. She couldn't have failed to notice.

Meanwhile, the local lady walked me down King's Road in her ridiculous get-up last Friday night. I wouldn't mind if she was 20 years younger or so.

I would also like to comment on the girl in the grey pencil skirt with the obligatory iPod on the platform at Tottenham Court Road tube station, who changed at Embankment to go west on the District Line. My you looked fun and fuckable.

I was saying that a lot of acquaintances are settling down with their partners and having children. Poor bastards. Jodie is 23 years old and was gagging for it or was that the MDMA power talking? Georgina is only 20 but a little Conservative.

I'm just getting started. Watch out on Saturday Claire my dear, the long-limbed, slim, darked-haired beauty, I think you are next. You look like you are overdue a fuck. Maybe you're ripe for a little perversion - just look at her up there on the right. Up for it?

Pictures of Ladies

I have been arranging the selection of pictures that I have been collecting. I am going to be posting some wonderful images of some quality ladies.

I was reacquainted over the weekend with a co-practitioner of ropeplay. She has bought some wonderful new toys from Coco de Mer. She showed me a brand new Agent Provocateur corset. Sweet smelling. I briefly spanked her on her bed. We talked about installing a hook in one of the ceilings in her basement flat. I sense fun in the offing.

Stay tuned for some images.

The Kept Women

A lesser phenomenon in the locality is the kept women. Fascinating creatures.

I like to separate them into two distinct categories: the fresh twenty-somethings and the thirty-somethings. Kept women around here don't have to be older than 40. I guess the odd one in the sticks might be. It doesn't really go with the territory.

I loved the last twenty-something kept women I came across. She was really a girl. She was the mistress put up in a wonderful mews in Kinnerton Street by the chief executive of a multi-national. He was married of course and the company paid for the pad. She was doing an art course just to kill the waiting around for him. She was in a state of anxiety about getting traded in. Sadly, they always are. For the record, she thought her shelf-life was 26. She started with him when she was 18. A good catch methinks.

The thirty-something kept women usually are kept in a small flat or a studio. The man is married and pays for their rent and general upkeep. He comes round at short notice to the flat with flowers for a fuck with a women with a little more energy than the mother of his children. She usually is a good fuck, manipulated, unfaithful and well-dressed. She flirts with the male neighbours and worries their women. I lived next door to a black kept women, good looking, lithe and lissome, fit and pretty bored. Another I know used to be a croupier and never could make ends meet. The arrangement suits here - a nice little studio flat near Chelsea in exchange for fucking a well-groomed, rich Jew. Unusually, he is single.

Love to hear from more of you out there. Come on ladies.

Wildlife On King's Road

I was out last night on King's Road. These sultry June evenings really encourage the wildlife.

I took an 18-year-old girl out on a date at Bluebird. I thought it was a safe option. We started at the bar - populated by no hookers - and worked towards the restaurant. There was one or two fuckable types in there in dresses and high-heels - looking good.

I saw an old sparring partner earlier on and she reminded me that she had found a garment of my clothing. She enquired when she should return it. Without going into details, I am a bit snookered on that front at the present time. Maybe not.

I am getting fit, fit, fit for some summer fun. The business is getting funded. I am gonna get paid all being well and then I am off to Berlin for a German workout.

The future truly is unwritten.

Sluts

Another Friday and I am keen for a slut or three. It's a question of where to go to get the quality. For the right slut, an aladdin's cave of naughty toys awaits. I might get the cane out. Stripe that ass.

I love a bit of glamour. Come and get it, girls.

It's Friday - Where's The Pussy?

I like pussy on a Friday. But not just any pussy. I like rich girl pussy, 17-year old public school girl pussy, fit & flexible girl pussy and girl-with-a-twinkle-in-her-eye pussy.

I love the immaculately-dressed club sluts. Bravo. The bronzed tanlines, the super tits, the sexy legs, the tailored clothes, the hair & make-up, the expensive perfume, the drink, the drugs & the connections.

This is South Kensington by the way. Not Newcastle or Manchester or The West End. Don't confuse. Princes party here and Prince.