Well, the day of reckoning has arrived. Following some gentle encouragement from a couple of Plink regulars my first Blog is here. Not only that but I am going to attempt to discuss a subject which has caused some contention in the forums. So with the risk of being ostracised at my first attempt here goes.

Ill start with a statement of fact: I like older women *cue aggressive pelting with rotten fruit and veg* Now, Im not talking about Peoples Friend reading, woolly jumper knitting grannies, more women aged mid 30s to late 40s. To me, there is something acutely sexy about the way she carries herself, an appreciation of her own sexuality, and the apparent acceptance of herself and her body. Try as I might, I havent been able to find these erotic qualities in any women of my own age. You may now be wondering what contributory factors have led me to this state. Well..

It all started at the tender age of 10. I was spending the school holidays at my uncles place been looked after by his gorgeous wife (non-blood relative). One scorching august day Id been spending the time in a distant field building a tree house when the branch I was balanced on gave way. I was left hurtling to earth being scraped/scratched by twigs and thorns. I returned the house to find my aunt sunbathing in the garden. She saw the state I was in and ushered me inside to clean me up. She suggested I had a disinfectant bath (for those who dont know this a hot bath with Dettol poured in, smells awful but has wonderful cleansing properties). So there I am, completed naked being bathed by my hot, bikini-clad aunt. To paraphrase another poster, old John Thomas had been awakened. As for my aunt, I still struggle to hold a conversation with her to this day. I love disinfectant baths though!

So, the fire had been lit, but it was to be on simmer for some years to come. It hasnt all been a fairy tale. Oh no, theres been events to test my devotion to Mrs R. Like the time when I took a summer job in a garlic bread factory (dont laugh, the do exist!) As the new guy I had the distinct pleasure of sweeping up as when it was needed. In my first week I made the mistake of asking one woman (quite naively) if I could sweep between her legs. Well, for the remaining three months, before the commencement of my A-Level studies, the cackle of factory women made my life hell.

A few more years passed and I left home to go to University. A great experience discovering cheap booze, girls and every variety of Pot Noodle under the sun. In order to provide extra pocket money I took a weekend job at a nearby department store selling upmarket crystal. I was helping out a woman who I shall call Sandra (a single woman aged 40 ish), who managed the crystal stand. The idea was that I would just help out during the busy periods. Well, I must have seen about 15 customers within a typical day. Most of my day was spent day dreaming about the perfume girls around the corner. This went on for some months until one day we went for a drink for Sandras birthday (not just me, other colleagues too). In any case plenty of wine was consumed until just she and I were left. I was offered something to eat at hers (which I accepted) and eventually ended up in bed where amongst other things we drunk champagne and ate strawberries. This carried on for the remainder of my 2nd year, until I returned home for the summer. When I returned I discovered that the crystal dept was deemed unprofitable (surprise surprise) and that Sandra no longer worked there. So for the remainder of my studies my weekends were spent errr. Studying, and for short periods meeting girls my own age.

Oops! Just realised this blog is dragging on a bit now. Will complete this story with my 2nd blog in a few days..