Makeover alert!
Wife and I were at a rock concert last night. Yes, we were on our way to the show when the thunderstorm and torrential rain hit London. For you non-Lon readers, this was one mother of a storm. Bathroom-shower-like circumstances. Coming out of the toilets at the club, where hordes of women had flocked to the mirrors to repair their black-streaked mascara paintwork, Wife spotted a guy making his way through the crowd, calmly folding his black umbrella. Nothing unusual, except his had a picture of Winnie the Pooh on it.

This launched Wife on a rant about the next Mon-makeover: My workaday look is as dull as the next cubicle-sitter's (except I don't have a cubicle), and outside the office I tend towards slim-cut, solid-color clothes - baggy stuff just makes me look skinny. Oh, and I am trying to wean myself off the tight black stuff. Anyway, Wife thinks I need more "cute" in my closets.

Cute? Yes, no more avoiding all visible logos and patterns. We're in for a whole new look based on cuddly cartoon figures and hallucinogenic Japanese kawaii color-orgasms.

Naturally, I thought this would wear off overnight, but no. This morning I made breakfast while she frantically assembled her stuff for a weeklong work-trip out of town. Sitting down to coffee and a heart attack on a plate, she brandished the fork at my unicolor t-shirt, and declared: "You know, I'm going to look for some new clothes for you. Which cartoons did you like as a kid?"

Shudder.

So, if you happen to be in a major city on the Continent this coming week, and you see a tall brunette coming out of a Hello Kitty store carrying a heavy load, please be so kind as to email me. I need all the advance warning I can get.

Last week's burst of writerly diligence has of course been replaced with the malaise of the overworked, and the fact that nothing much has been happening lately.

OK, that's not true. Wife got back from a trip out of town (with Curly, for most of the time) a week ago. She combined business travel and holing up with girlfriend in a borrowed house up north (Midlands) for Easter weekend. I, meanwhile, withered away in lonely neglect, unloved and... did I mention neglected? OK I had some work to catch up on, so most of the Easter weekend was spent with my little hottie on my lap. Hottie? Yes, my slim, warm and humming laptop.

Anyway, the basic inequality was obvious. I spent the long weekend with the laptop, while Wife had Curly giving her a lapping. (Damn, I'm unfunny today). So, we've tried to rectify the situation a bit in the last few days. Fortunately for me Wife usually comes home from such getaways even hornier than when she left.

"I was a bit naughty on the way. We stopped in a layby, and Curly gave me head. I think someone saw us..." Wife mentioned this casually over a late dinner.

"You what?" My wife and Curly dogging on the way south! I was a bit shocked.

"Don't know, someone passed by a couple of times," she shrugged. "I was distracted. And Curly wasn't looking out the window much."

A while later: "Mmm, I missed your cock," she purred, lifting her lips away from said organ, hard and swollen from days and days of terrible neglect. She climbed on top of me and lowered herself down on my erection. I hadn't so much as looked at her pussy, and she was dripping wet. I stroked her ass, and a finger wandered up to caress her rosebud. She pushed my hand away. "I just want to feel your cock," she muttered into my ear. Enough fingering and licking for a while, I guess. Maybe I'm slightly jealous, but at least I'm not worried that she'll elope with Curly anytime soon. Besides, Curly can't cook.

Since I'm on the subject of embarrassing sexual situations, I guess I'll just continue with stories of bad sex with other men. I don't have much taste for it, and frankly I need a woman present for a hard-on to materialize. Which sucks, because I really would like to be bi.

Bisexuality has everything going for it: widens your dating pool, multiplies the possibilities for orgies and group sex, and gives unparallelled scope for expansion in your relationships. Makes you a more versatile lover, yeah?

Mind you, it's a total turn on for me to watch a boy-girl couple getting it on, and to participate - no problem. What gets me going there is the fact that most women who would get themselves into such a situation in the first place are hugely turned on by having more than one guy to play with, and that kind of excitement is highly contagious.

So, on to the bad sex. It was some seven years ago. I had a slightly older girlfriend, who surprised me one evening after smoking a bit of skunk with a graphic description of how she would like to have two men at once. Nothing too unusual there, except I replied that I'd be quite happy to help out if she had a fellow fucker in mind. She kissed me, fucked my brains out, and then nothing happened for a while.

One evening she called, giggly and obviously tipsy, from a downtown hotel bar, urgently summoning me to join her and "an old friend," a guy. I went. Drinks were drunk. Chat was chatted, and we ended up in his room. He flirted more with me than her, and by this time I knew everybody would be getting naked sooner or later. OF was flirty with both of us, and GF was nervous, so at some point I took up the challenge and said something like: "Hey, OF, are you feeling up my girlfriend?"

He grinned, nodded like a bobblehead, and put one hand on her thigh for emphasis. She exchanged a meaningful glance with me, and then kissed OF. Soon, his cock was in her mouth while I had a hand up her skirt, fingering her dripping wet pussy, but his eyes were on me the entire time. We undressed her, then GF and I stripped OF, and finally the two of them peeled my clothes off. That's how I ended up on my back with GF sitting on my face, and OF giving me a blowjob while she watched.

So far, so good, I thought, feeling pretty good about my first foray into bisexual depravity. I think OF would have cum all over himself had I told him this was my first time with a guy. And maybe he would have relaxed a little.

I could feel there was a slight difference between GF's tempo and OF's. She couldn't believe she was getting her fantasy served up on a kingsize bed, and wanted to relish the moment. He, on the other hand, seemed eager to get somewhere with this. The "where" turned out to be a problem.

We arranged ourselves with GF on her side, OF fucking her from behind, and she sucking me with the occasional helpful lick from OF leaning in cheek-to-cheek with her. But he was going a bit fast for her, so she suggested diplomatically that we trade places. We traded, with a bit of fondling of each other's members and bottoms. I settled in behind GF, and began leisurely fucking her, recognizing the signs of her first orgasm coming along. Somehow OF and I managed to fall into rhythm, and GF came with a great muffled "ooommmffff," around her mouthful of cock.

We took a little break, but after a while the impatient OF had positioned his cock in front of my face. I pushed him down on his back, and GF was very turned on to see me make the first tentative moves towards taking him in my mouth. The good news was, OF had a fairly slim, short penis - the head barely stuck out when I held him in my hand. I jerked him off for a bit, then leaned in and hesitantly slid his cock into my mouth. GF gave me pointers along the way, and soon I had pretty much gotten the hang of it. I stopped when he seemed about to come, saying something about saving it for the lady. Then I turned my attention back to GF, playfully chasing her fingers away from her clit, and putting my tongue in there instead - a far better taste than OF's latex-covered prick.

While I licked her, he began to stroke my buttocks, my balls, and to gently jerk me off with one hand. This was all quite pleasant, and I was even happier when he brought out some lube and started to play with my asshole while I licked GF. Again, he seemed a little bit hurried. GF grabbed my hair, pressed my tongue against her clit, and squeezed her thighs around my head - all of which distracted me from the fact that OF had his cock against my ass. I heard some distant male rumbling about somebody fucking someone else, and then he thrust his cock into my not-so-well prepared asshole.

I didn't respond too well. Tearing my head out of GF's crotch, shouting "Ouch!" and pushing him off me was, in retrospect, perhaps a bit overdramatic.

He, in turn, reacted like I was a fickle little cockteaser who should be perfectly happy to have his wiener in my ass when he goddam pleased. Or something to that effect. GF was mostly frustrated - she was enjoying herself watching the action and getting head, and the next moment we guys are on either side of the bed trading hissy fits.

I probably felt like some boundary had been violated, and this many years later I don't quite understand why I got so instantly defensive and angry. Mostly I think it had to do with a built-up irritation at OF's eagerness to get his way without letting us enjoy ourselves. He wasn't particularly coy about his attraction to me, and that GF was merely an accessory in this threesome of ours.

Everybody got turned off, and I ended up leaving her to finish up with OF as she pleased. She came over to my house half an hour after I got in, and apologized. I could tell she was furious at me for breaking up the threesome. It never got resolved, this irritation, and we broke up some weeks later. I blame the bad sex. Who knows what her reasons were...

I learned a couple of things from reader reactions to yesterday's posting: If you want women to send you approving emails, not to mention cite you favourably in their blogs, state publicly that you love to lick pussy. No less important, make sure you emphasise that this is a complicated pursuit which allows for uncounted variations and digressions, depending on each woman's tastes, shape and proclivities for grabbing your hair in both hands, digging her heels into your back and screaming very loudly.

This is my idea of fun, even if it's a hobby I don't discuss much with shy friends and acquaintances. Not so for everyone. "Women are just so much work," says one bi-male friend of mine, who is welcome to practise his fellatio as much as he wants, for all I care. My own forays into that particular arena, rare as they have been, were never very successful. Overall, I'd say the best blowjob I've given was inferior to the lousiest cunnilingus I've performed. Fortunately, enthusiastic straight women were present every time I've tried pleasuring a man. I consider my bi-experiences to have been more in an understudy capacity than anything else.

It was an MMF threesome a few years ago. My client, "B" (a lovely pale 40ish redhead) wanted to include her sligthly younger boyfriend in one of our meetings, and mentioned in passing that he was bi-curious. I didn't mind because it was clear this was mostly her fantasy anyway. I arrived at her house, we had some wine in the living room, chatted for a while about sex, and ended up with her describing in some detail her fantasy of seducing a visitor to her home, right in front of the boyfriend. Talk about a natural transition! Boyfriend got up to refill the glasses, leaving us to get cozy on the sofa, and before he had the cork out I had my hands up her skirt and her tongue in my mouth.

B/f watched us, stroking his bulge, and his eyes widened when she pulled my cock out and began to lick it. Soon she was on her knees in front of me, ass in the air and skirt up around her waist with boyfriend caressing her generously proportioned ass (she really did have an astonishing derriere - full, rounded and remarkably sensitive to stroking, teasing and spanking). We soon proceeded into the bedroom, and us boys set to work on B, taking our time licking and stroking every available surface - except her pussy and asshole. She wanted to be teased, and "made to beg" for us to touch her there. At one point I straddled her face, ordered her to lick my balls while I caressed her small, lovely tits, while B/f's tongue roamed all over her body, sometimes licking my hands. Then, my eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of both of my balls in her mouth, I feel his lips closing over my hard shaft. For a moment I felt surprised, mildly uncomfortable, but I went with it in the spirit of the moment.

Soon she was begging, as planned, to be licked. B and I positioned ourselves in a sideways 69, my cock in her face, and my tongue on her pussy (the "closed lipped" variety, if you want to know). After a while, B/f comes along from the other side. He pulled her buttocks apart, teasing her pussy, the sensitive perineum, and the cute pink pucker of her ass from behind. B went wild. After I while I had to pull out of the 69, turn around and lick her "right side up" because she thrashed around so much we had to hold her still. As pleasant as it sounds, it's really painful to get a mons veneris thrust into your nose with the full force of a woman's hips behind it. Our tongues intertwined and we kissed, sort of, while we drove B crazy from two directions. Some fingers were added to the mix - my two in her pussy, and his one in her ass.

After a while she demanded a bit of rest, and we the men lay down on either side of her, gently stroking and kissing. B/f reached across to kiss me a couple of times, and I returned his kisses with, I hope, some authenticity. This turned B on tremendously. At her request I moved over, and began to give her boyfriend head while she kissed him and whispered in his ear how filthy and perverted he was for having that handsome boy sucking him off right in front of her. I did my best, thinking the whole time of the best blowjobs I've had from women. And there I erred: I may have 24/7 access to the equipment, but that doesn't make me an expert in what guys want - just in what I like. B/f and I seem to like different kinds of stimulation. He's cut, I'm uncut. I like to be licked up and down the shaft, my balls played with, teased, my foreskin nibbled - all before having my knob devoured into an eager hot mouth. B/f, by contrast, wanted none of that - just straight on hard sucking. My jaws were getting tired, and I all of a sudden developed great sympathy for every woman whose mouth I've fucked with abandon. Then I remembered something about using my hand - ah, yes! That did the trick, the moans became louder, more regular, and I had far greater control over how far back into my throat his cock would go. (Fellatio tip: Vomiting all over the recipient is a turn-off, unless he's into that sorta thing).

Then there's the cum. Not an issue there, with a condom on, but I was getting worried about what more I could do to get the guy off. Fortunately B stepped in, and made it clear that he was not to come until she said so. She had a plan. On her knees in the middle of the bed, she instructed boyfriend to fuck her while she took my cock in her mouth. Immediately, she began to moan as B/f and I grinned and winked at each other across her body. Regularly she would pull my cock out of her mouth and look behind her at B/f. "Yeah, fuck me while I suck his cock... you like to watch his big cock in my mouth...?" and so on.

I was dangerously close to climax, from the combination of watching him fuck her from behind and her sucking my cock. As I mentioned this, she pulled back. "No. I want you both." Then looking behind her at B/f, she asked him. "Darling, can I have you both in my ass and pussy?" This was not a question, really. We calmed down, relaxed, and after a while B/f brought out the lube and a small vibe to relax her asshole. First he inserted a few fingers while she lay on her side, head in my lap. He took his time to get her warmed up, and then started to use the vibe on her. Showing a bit of initiative I kissed and licked my way down her front, and ended up licking her pussy in a gentle, teasing way, avoiding the very sensitive clit, while B/f slid the vibe in and out of her ass.

Then, I lay down on my back and B straddled me, lowering her dripping hot pussy onto my cock. I was so excited I could hardly hold back, and added to that she still had the vibe buzzing in her ass, and I could feel it intensely. This was the first time I had tried this form of double penetration, and I just hoped that this wouldn't drag on too long because I just had to come. To my relief she paused, me half inside her, while B/f worked his hard member into her waiting ass. They took their time, moving very softly on top of me. The expression on her face, her eyes closed, mouth half open, little moans escaping, was unbelievably sexy. I could feel B/f filling her ass until his balls touched mine, and I knew he was all the way in, just like I was at that point. We kept still, waiting for a sign from her. She began to wiggle her hips, experimentally, and taking our cue from her movements we slowly fell into a rhythm - incredibly hard to coordinate for long - sometimes both of us slamming into her at the same time, sometimes alternately filling her pussy and ass. She moaned loudly, with the occasional high-pitched whelp thrown in.

"I want you both to come inside me," she managed to say, eyes tightly shut. We picked up speed, and I began to slam into her pussy, unable to control myself any longer, pulling as far out as I could, then ramming into her all the way, feeling B/f's cock in her ass. The long-delayed orgasm was enormously powerful. When I stopped, my cock still hard inside her, B/f took his turn fucking her asshole as hard as he could, moaning loudly about being ready to come in her ass, and she encouraging him. I could feel his cock twitch up against mine, separated only by the thin perineum, as he came.

After we'd pulled our still-half-hard cocks out of her ass and pussy, and everyone was rolling around on the bed, dazed, I asked innocently if she didn't want to come. "Come? I can't come anymore - four times isn't enough?" she laughed at me. Those whelps had been orgasms - unlike any I'd seen her have before - small, short ones, instead of a built-up big one.

Waitaminnit! Wasn't I talking about my bi-experiences and cocksucking? Ooops. Well, my natural tendency to gush about pussy and pass over the rest seems to have taken control. Anyway, excuse me now, I need to go have a wank.

The Pouty Pussy Theory

I should have become a sex columnist. Really. It's the easiest job in the world, if you remember that there are only three things you really need to understand:

1. Know yourself (i.e., learn to treat your body like an amusement park - explore it, and don't think you've gone on every ride even if you're forty and have fucked a lot).

2. Pay attention (i.e., no two sets of genitals and erogenous zones are identical - in look, feel, smell, or sensitivity. Same goes for brains, what someone thinks is funny, sexy, etc.).

3. Play safe. It's the noughties, there's no such thing as risk-free sex.

If you can remember all this, the rest is basically a matter of technique, gender-combination, number of people in your bed/relationship, fantasies, fetishes, not to mention taboos, morals, values, principles, and the number of times your partner wants you to spank that ass before you get on to the next item on the menu.

Ah, screw these generalizations. Let's get graphic!

Fortunately there are some rules of thumb, or tongue. For example, I have a working hypothesis about pussies, which is that the "poutier" they are, the more sensitive the clit. If the labia minora are hidden by the labia majora, and you have to dig for the clit, you can probably stimulate it directly. Not that you should ever go directly there - let the clit's owner guide you on your way, by all means. On the other hand, if the labia minora protrude in a "blossoming flower" kind of way, watch out - touch the clit and you get an "ouch!" no matter how delicate the approach. In extreme cases, only indirect stimulation works for pouty pussies (which, by the way I find very sexy). A pouty-lipped girlfriend of mine, way back when, was so easily overstimulated that she could normally not come from oral - but when she got painfully sensitive she could have massive orgasms from spanking! By contrast, a long-distance lover of mine who I see rarely these days, has such a well-protected little box that she masturbates by slapping her clit with her fingers. On one memorable occasion I was fucking her from behind. She began to slap her clit forcefully, and in the heat of the moment thwacked my balls HARD when I thrust into her, instantly putting me out of commission for half an hour.

On second thought, maybe I'm too much of a pornographer to be a good sex columnist.

A regular emailed me yesterday, asked if I was available to see a friend of hers. I replied yes, and soon a charming, young-sounding woman rang, and we set up a meeting, around 10 in Soho, at a fairly unclassy, heavy-metal kind of bar. Describing herself she mentioned dark t-shirt, leather jacket, denim skirt, eyebrow ring, black hair. Shouldn't be too difficult to spot.

At the appointed time I was sitting in a conspicious place, drink in front of me, and five minutes early someone walked in who fit the description, drink already in hand. She looked around, I waved discreetly, she came over, smiled shyly. A lot younger than I thought. Check the eyebrow ring, dark hair, denim skirt...

I moved over and she sat down. "Hi, I'm Suzy." Not the name I was given. Then I noticed no leather jacket, a reddish blouse - oops. But she was friendly and for some reason she seemed to think we knew each other. "I didn't see you at the concert," she said. "Were you backstage?"

She thought I was with the band sitting at the next table. I began to explain, but I spotted my actual date standing by the bar and looking around. I excused myself, got up and went over to her. She looked in the direction I came from. "You brought a friend?" she asked.

I explained about my mistake. She tought it was hilarious. "We can sit with her, d'you mind?" I didn't. So we went back to Suzy, who had kindly pulled up a new chair, ordered more drinks and chatted.

And no, you perverts, we did not seduce her back to my client's hotel room. Perish the thought. We went by ourselves, like a proper, uh, you know...

If I still have any readers left, I apologize for my laziness of the past weeks. For some reason I haven't been blogging, and I couldn't tell you why even if you threatened me with a three-pronged dildo.

Then there were the strange emails. For those of you who don't live in London you may not know that some papers have been eager to reveal the indentity of Belle de Jour, the blogger with the predictable book deal. As for myself, I don't care who she is. Anyway, someone started to look into yours truly. I honestly don't know anything beyond the strangely insistent emails and wacky questions. I answered some of them with outrageous lies, and whoever it was finally went away. Wife freaked, I censored some potentially revealing blog entries out, and everything's back to normal. She's still not entirely happy about the blog's existence, but not actively hostile.

Ms. Gray has definitely closed up shop. It's been in the offing for a few months, ever since she stopped advertising, but I wasn't expecting her to make good on the threat just yet. But she really has quit, closed the relevant mobile numbers, and headed out of London. I haven't decided what to do, but I'm not going to hook up with another agent anytime soon. Probably I'll just stay with the regulars and the occasional newbie they send along my way.

I've had a few emails congratulating me and Wife on landing Curly in our bed. That's sweet, but I think the credit is all hers. Curly, by the way seems to be quite at home in our little flat. This is unusual. Wife has kept all previous girlfriends firmly away from me, and I've been fine with that. But this one is very different. Curly seems to thrive on the semi-detachment of being the third wheel. We're all very comfortable together, and Wife only occasionally sees Curly alone. I can't believe I'm saying this, but we've fallen into a comfy arrangement in which Curly comes over to our house once or twice a week, usually for a relaxed dinner followed by one or both of us for dessert. She only stays overnight on weekends.

I'm not sure about the stability of this "V" of ours. Wife called last night, from out of town (work), and we had a good serious talk about Curly and ourselves. The consensus is that we are a bit worried that Curly needs more. She's been single for a while, her job is demanding, and Wife thinks that despite Curly's taste for pussy, she is domestic at heart. She told Wife that she would like to find a decent bloke to settle down with and have a couple of kids.

We mulled this over for a while, agreeing that Curly would probably make an excellent mom. This is all getting a bit too normal for my tastes.