I've just flipped the switch ; perhaps not for the last time but there won't be the same magic again. The lights that have twinkled for the past month now fall silent. They have faithfully waved encouragement to passing travellers during all of these darkest days and nights of Winter. Those strangers must now make their way to Springtime without such companions.
Statues and figurines who proudly stood guard over our hopes and joys have now been stood down. Without their solemn duty
It's been a great indulgent life but now is time to move on. The last year has been a personal struggle. I'll always be an addict but maybe I can build a small degree of control away from here.
I have met many wonderful people, both in the forum and on my adventures. Some of you will feature on the film roll that will flash before me in those last moments of life. And that is the proof of your beauty and the glory of the times we shared.
Thank you and take care.
I suppose I'll stop punting if "Ruhama's" proposals ever become legislation. But that possible scenario got me thinking. How would I feel if I realised that I would never have sex again? What awful despair would that be? What kind of dark lonliness would overtake me? How could that be good for my mental or physical health? Worse, what could that kind of frustration over a number of years do to a man?
Sex is a very natural act. It's fun, but it's very private. There is no
So, when we’ve gone home and the excitement is over, what is the essence of that which we remember most from the liaisons with our escort friends? Yes, we recall the intimacy, the physicality and maybe, even the sex. But, as I move through middle age, the over-riding memory is invariably the sense of vitality that I’ve just shared. There is an infusion of youth gained from our meeting. And yes, all of you are youngsters in my eyes now.
It’s not that we are precluded from meeting
I had enjoyed this life for such a long, long period. In my time I met some beautiful women, both physically and character wise. I experienced times of intimate passion with girls that any man would be proud to just even know.
I justified my actions on the grounds that I wasn't having an affair. I even believed that I was being responsible by ensuring that I never exposed myself to an emotional attachment. But I felt that I was addicted. This life controlled me and I paid no heed
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