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Thursday, December 14th 2017

Dear Alan, if you are reading this

please do get in touch. Some time back, you were a very regular guest of mine. The last time we met you dropped a splendid diamond collar stud, which I found when I was hoovering that evening. Without a phone number, I couldn't get in touch to return it to you. I never saw you again. Did you think that I stole it?

Please give me a call to arrange to retrieve it. If I don't hear from you by, let's say Easter, I'll have it made into a ring for myself. You know how to find me, Alan....

Wishing you a wonderful Christmas.

Thursday, August 3rd 2017

For controlfreaks only - i.Con

Effectively a sex tracker for guys who want to stay on top of their performance: a £60 wearable "smart condom" that helps you track how many calories you burn during sex, how many thrusts and position changes, and god knows what else. There's an app! So far nobody has turned up yet to test the thing. I'm conflicted as to whether to be relieved or disappointed.

A much more useful development is the new "steam cleaner" that can cure an enlarged prostate with minimum fuss and without the side effects of conventional surgery i.e. urinary incontinence and erectile dysfunction. This pioneering treatment is currently being used at Charing Cross Hospital. Now that's something worth celebrating.

Sunday, May 28th 2017

Italian Giorgio with the sad eyes

I sporadically try to get fitter, and on beautiful mornings I put on my trainers and head for the nearest park. An hour of a fast walk/slow jog combo usually puts me in a good mood for the day.

Since I'm currently staying at my friend Charlotte's flat in Marylebone, the plan today was to head through Hyde Park, Kensington Gardens and Holland Park down towards High Street Kensington, where I would reward myself with a Cappucino and an omelette.

I jogged past Tony Blair's house, currently guarded by police AND military, turned into Connaught Street, slowing to window shop and read restaurant menus. A small, obviously old greyhound was shredding black bin bags to get at whatever smelt delicious inside. No obvious owner, so I stopped, and turned back. The poor dog was chewing dish cloths, covered in washing powder. I chatted to him a bit - they're such good listeners. Still nobody in sight, except for a woman watering her plants, who didn't know the animal or its owner. I asked if she had some string that I could attach to the dog's collar, and she produced the shoe laces from her husband's shoes. Knotted together, they made a splendid dog lead.

A cab took us to the Blue Cross behind Victoria Station, where the dog was examined, and had it's microchip scanned. The hound was ancient, an Italian greyhound called Giorgio, with a W11 address, but the phone number on record no longer connected.

The Blue Cross is just an animal hospital, so Giorgio and I were sent on our way to Battersea Dogs Home, now with a very pretty new dog lead, pink, with little paw prints on it.

Two cab rides later, and with Giorgio having done a huge poo on the pavement (and me without a baggie - super embarrassing!) a cheerful Aussie marched off towards the kennels with a small elderly dog with huge, sad eyes.

I hope Giorgio gets reunited with his owner. After the Bank Holiday I'll phone the vets in the W11, W8 and W2 postcodes to see if anybody knows him, and check with Battersea in a week's time if he has been collected. If not, I'll swing by with some dog bisquits.

If you have a chipped pet, please, please make sure you keep your contact details updated, or your beloved mutt may end up rootling through trash, and depending on the kindness of strangers.

Tuesday, May 2nd 2017

Premature Ejaculation

I enjoy dabbling in the stockmarket (a girl has to think of her future), and this morning a company I have a small holding in, InnovaDerma, has sent out an alert that they have acquired a firm that owns the intellectual property rights of Prolong(TM), the world's only medical device cleared by the FDA for premature ejaculation.

Personally, I don't find it particularly flattering if a man can hold back for too long - it makes me wonder whether my charms are fading - but I totally understand men getting frustrated when they feel their enjoyment is being cut short.

So, if you're interested in giving this gizmo a spin, here's what the blurb says: Prolong is a Class II vibrating medical device used as part of a climax control program for males who suffer from premature ejaculation. It is designed to increase the time between arousal and ejaculation through the use of the training sessions using the stimulating vibratory effects of the device on the penis as part of the "start-stop" technique. Prolong offers an affordable, pain free, one off or long term treatment option with no side effects. The prototype delivered efficacy 338% above blah, blah, gold standard, blah, clinical trials, etc.

Prolong will be sold without prescription (a little vibrating ring, never!) and is ready for mass market distribution.

I bet it creates the same kind of excitement as when Chanel launches a new nail varnish colour, and I have to go on the wait list. D'oh!

Well, chaps, don't worry on my account. If you're good with your tongue and a charming man, lack of shtupping endurance really doesn't matter to me. But, if you're fretting on your own account, it may be worth giving this gadget a go. Once you're done with your solitary "training sessins, and you're looking for a guinea pig to practice on, my phone number is on my profile. ;-0

Monday, May 1st 2017

A girl can dream

Yesterday I left charming Innsbruck after a long overdue week of r&r at my favourite health farm, 2 kg lighter, and the kinks in my spine from wearing stilettos soothed after a few physiotherapy sessions, yoga, massage and leafing through Russian Vogue in the infrared cabin.

As my train chugged through the ravishing Ötztal in bright sunshine, past snow capped mountains, idyllic villages and dinky little railway stations towards Lake Constance on an ancient IC without the distraction of on board W-LAN, my thoughts turned to long term planning. There comes a point when even the most resilient MILF/GILF wants to delegate more, so I'm beginning to ponder opening a brothel.

Not any old knocking shop, mind you, but a very plush bordello catering to a "VIP club" of successful gentlemen, featuring gorgeous girls from Australia, Sweden and Russia. I even have a name for it, so it's getting ever more real. Watch this space....

Sunday, February 5th 2017

Time for the fat farm

As another tour draws to a close, I'm looking forward to getting away to La Palma, my annual effort to shed the winter pounds. During the summer months I have no problem getting up at 5.30 and heading for the park for a jog along the perimeter, ending with a cappuccino in the Serpentine Cafe. This time of year I need the alarm to get up at 7, make a mug of tea, then go back to bed to drink it, and so the pounds inevitably creep onto my hips.

Since I have booked a photo session for March, February seems the perfect time to get back in shape, and 10 days of walking and vegetable soups on an island with clear blue skies, fresh air, dragon trees and almond trees in full, fragrant bloom are guaranteed to restore my mojo.

This time around I'm planning to give myself a complete break, and go on a digital detox i.e. no work phone and no work related emails for a whole month. Let's see whether I can resist the temptation to log on...

Friday, January 20th 2017

A Coco de Mer salon for squirting fans!

Coco de Mer in Covent Garden run regular 'evenings of education' on all manner of erotic subjects, from the art of bondage to oral sex, seduction techniques, and there is one on March 14, which may appeal to gentlemen who love to make their lady squirt.

In my experience, very few men, even accomplished lovers, know how to properly stimulate a woman's G-spot, although it can massively enhance the pleasure of oral sex or vibrator play, in the same way that prostate massage makes a blow job so bone meltingly intense.

The seminar is called "Female ejaculation and the G-spot", costs £95 including drinks, and promises to increase your knowledge of the 'hidden gateway to love and intimacy', and also entitles you to a 20% discount on classy lingerie, sex toys and erotica. Of course, you can watch the G-spot massage instruction videos on YouTube, but they're not half as much fun.

Unfortunately I'm not getting paid for this plug, but am very much hoping that you'll come to see me with your newly acquired love god skills and practice on me!

Wednesday, January 18th 2017

A perfect London morning

Slap-up breakfast this morning with Busty Charlotte, great friend and partner-in-crime, and collaborator in many a lesbian show and double domination bookings. We were celebrating both our birthdays, hers in January, mine next month, when I'm back home in Germany.

Bagged a super table by the window, overlooking Hyde Park basking in winter sunshine, joggers, people walking to work, handsome men in pinstripes in the middle of breakfast meetings, and the Household Cavalry exercising their horses. The charming waitress overheard us talk about birthdays etc, and quickly got the kitchen to rustle up some celebratory cake. Chocolate mousse cake - outrageous for breakfast! There goes clean January.

Thank goodness I'm off soon on a hiking holiday, to undo some of the damage of winter indulgence, Christmas and too much Champagne.

Monday, January 2nd 2017

The wonders of Google

My attention to detail leaves a lot to be desired, and sometimes I suspect if I wasn't so rubbish at admin I might actually be doing a more constructive job.

Anyhoo, in spite of effectively being a bird brain, once in a blue moon I have a rush of blood to the head and take an interest in how you guys actually find me.

To that effect, I have a gizmo cobbled onto the back end of my website, that analyses where my "hits" come from, both from websites I advertise on as well as direct Google searches. The searches most of the time make sense - mature escort London, German escort, role play escort etc. are perfectly understandable.

However, sometimes I'm stumped. After my third glass of Primitivo, some olives, salami and parmesan, I idly logged in to have a quick look at my December "back end". Some of the search terms certainly make me scratch my head: maduras escort, mature moms of london, escorts for £50 in newsouth gate (sic), mature escortlar, old granny escorts (eh???), and the most baffling - ch0020. They all found my site! How on earth?

Ch0020 is some sort of chair. If anyone can figure out how somebody looking for a chair ends up on the site of a middle aged sex worker in London please mail me.

Friday, December 16th 2016

Note to self

I really must get serious about the bespoke leather thigh boots from fabulously fetish. I made my way up to Whole Foods Kensington this morning in order to stock up on home made egg nog. They put masses of cinnamon in - absolutely delicious.

Over-knee boots seem to be everywhere this season, and I spotted a guy who couldn't take his eyes off a pretty young woman wearing a black pair. The poor chap was clearly overwhelmed and, with his hand in his coat pocket, indulged in what I can only describe as "frottage". Vive le sport!

If they have such a powerful effect that men are prepared to risk arrest or worse, a sneaky video uploaded onto YouTube, I urgently have to get measured for a pair! Did you hear me, Santa?

Wednesday, November 23rd 2016

How time flies!

Nearly Christmas again, and I'm currently resting in the German countryside before my flight to London on Monday. I love this time of year - the Christmas market opens this evening with a concert in the courtyard of the Old Castle, and I'll not bother to cook tonight, but will sample the junk food instead: crispy potato fritters with apple sauce, smoked fish on a stick from the Finnish stalls, there'll be some kind of sausage, sauerkraut and dumplings, and the whole thing gets washed down with copious amounts of mulled wine and a schnaps chaser.

Hunting season has started in the forests surrounding my village, the markets and farm shops are full of venison, and I'm making slow cook venison stew with red wine for the freezer. Sure makes a change from facials and blowdrys at Harrods, stocking shopping at Wolford, and perusing "fuck-me" shoes at Louboutin. Versatility is key in the modern global economy.

Frustratingly, I have still not paid a visit to fabulouslyfetish to get measured for their bespoke leather thigh boots. They're somewhere near the arse of the world in North London, and it'll lose me half a day to get there and back. Pity small businesses can no longer survive in Central London.

Before I pack for London I have a breathcontrol seminar to attend. Subject: how to thrill, and not kill, during face sitting. The mind boggles, but it's more fun than it sounds. We mess around with gags, masks, bondage foil and hoods, spend the evening experimenting with sensation play, generally have a good laugh and lick chocolate sauce off each others' bits. These seminars are usually well attended, by sex workers in search of new skills, 'civilians' experimenting with hobbies or introducing new play partners to kinky play, and the odd journalist in search of weird stuff to write about. We experiment on each other, amid much laughter, and we have a "slave" to practice on, a very handsome young sub who does lots of BDSM porn movies.

Meanwhile, I look forward to seeing some of you again, or for the first time, in the weeks before Christmas.

Friday, October 21st 2016

Brave New World

I read in the paper that grave stones in my part of the country can now carry a QR Code! That means that you can scan the code on a grave with your smart phone or tablet, and it'll take you to a memorial website that has been set up for the deceased, with a biography, pictures, videos, text and tributes, and even a play list of the person's favourite music. Not quite sure if I find that brilliant, or a small step too far.

Apparently, the cemetary administration is preparing to hire more people to hike around grave yards to make sure this is not abused by planting advertising and "inappropriate content". The mind boggles.

You can now also opt to be buried just in a shroud rather than a casket, but only for religious reasons, presumably to accommodate an increasing Muslim population and their customs? Absolutely fine by me, but why not allow that choice to non-Muslims, for example on cost grounds or out of environmental concerns (save the forests etc.)? Isn't that discrimination?

Thursday, October 20th 2016

Eliza Doolittle

I had a real blast on my last tour, which went London-Las Vegas-New York-London, then to Germany for a bit of R&R. I was lucky enough to meet some really interesting, cultured, well-travelled fun guys, and as usual came back home with a list of recommended films to see and books to read.

There's nothing like curling up with Netflix and my famous home cooked Szegediner Goulash and a large glass of Pinot Noir, watching "The Big Short", and the new episodes of "The Good Wife", which is getting better and better. One chap recommended a book I had never heard of: Hillbilly Elegy, by J. D. Vance, which I found deeply touching, with fascinating social observations about the white American disadvantaged working class - particularly interesting in the context of the current US election.

I finished the book absolutely awstruck by the obstacles the author had to overcome to succeed and go to Yale. A big thank you to the guy who flagged the book up as a "must read". I have saved him in my US phone as "Professor Henry Higgins", and on my next US tour hope to find out what else is on his reading list.

I'm often surprised and delighted at how much trouble clients go to in order to be helpful. One charming man, on hearing that I was heading to Florence for a weekend of food and culture, made a long list of galleries to look at, what to see when there, and just as importantly, what to avoid. He also suggested a brilliant little neighbourhood restaurant, that I ended up visiting 3 times!

Some of my clients (actually, I prefer to think of them as "guests") really enrich my life. How about that!

Monday, October 10th 2016

Apologies

I have recently been chided gently by one of my treasured patrons for neglecting my blog. Frankly, I hadn't expected anybody to be particularly interested, hence my lack of application.

So, I have to raise my game, obviously, and make more regular contributions, especially since the gentleman in question supplies me with the dark chocolates from Artisan du Chocolat that I'm a bit addicted to.

My mother loves those choccies, too. She lives in a nursing home, and we spend afternoons watching recordings of La Traviata or Don Giovanni, while hoovering up a box of exquisite chocolates. I particularly love La Traviata, both the story and the music, which is about a hard working and sucessful courtisan who falls for a young man from a good family, retires to the country in order to be with him, and then burns through all the money, paintings, fine furniture and jewellery that she acquired while in the horizontal trade, for a man who won't marry her because polite society disapproves of her profession.

I'm always totally infuriated that she should end up impoverished and ill while he, completely self-obsessed and oblivious, enjoys his little fantasy while she finances their life style.

170 years have gone by since the publication of the Dumas novel the opera is based on and, as much as the world has changed since then, society still frowns upon us ladies of the night, whether operating from a street corner, or as a poule de luxe like Violetta Valery, while marrying for financial security still seems perfectly acceptable.