divorcedlondon

The original "discreetlondon" is now available as an iBook!

2012-01-15T05:05:00.002Z

The original "discreetlondon - the secret internet diary of an unfaithful husband" is now available to download from Apple's iBook store at a reduced cost!

To download it right now, please CLICK HERE (opens iTunes link)

What are you waiting for? You will love it!

PS
Shortly, "divorcedlondon" will be available on the iBook store too!

2007-03-13T12:00:00.000Z

divorcedlondon: the continuing adventures of discreetlondon

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Table of Contents
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C o m i n g S o o n !

Buy my book directly from the publisher!

Available on Amazon UK!

And available on Amazon.Com (US)

Read a special "internet-only" note from discreetlondon RIGHT HERE - 12 March 2007 * * * N E W * * *

Bonus post: Read a brand NEW interview with discreetlondon! - 13 October 2006

Twenty-Nine: A brand new leaf - 12 September 2006

Twenty-Eight: I'm home and on the mend - 14 August 2006

* * * I've visited discreetlondon in hospital * * * - 29 July 2006

* * * An update on discreetlondon's health - 26 July 2006 * * *

* * * Urgent news about discreetlondon - 24 July 2006 * * *

Twenty-Seven: Back to work - 28 June 2006

Twenty-Six: Enough already! - 22 June 2006

Twenty-Five: Can't sleep - 21 May 2006

Twenty-Four: Time of my life - 10 May 2006

Twenty-Three: All the news that fits - 13 April 2006

Twenty-Two: Sparks Fly - 5 April 2006

Twenty One: The truth about men (especially for women) - 14 March 2006

Twenty: Not my best week - 28 February 2006

Nineteen: The waiting is the hardest part - 16 February 2006

Eighteen: Mostly very good times - 9 February 2006

Seventeen: Approaching boiling point - 31 January 2006

Sixteen: Better than ever, or just better - 25 January 2006

Fifteen: Oddly awake at all hours - 15 January 2006

Fourteen: Office observations from the under-utilised and over-paid - 13 January 2006

Thirteen: A stronger start to a New Year - 9 January 2006

Twelve: Only myself to blame - 2 January 2006

Eleven: Even the learning has curves.... - 30 December 2005

Ten: Oh christ, its Christmas! - 21 December 2005

Nine: Unexpected revelations eliminate temptation - 8 December 2005

Eight: A night on the tiles leads to all-smiles - 29 November 2005

Seven: On a roll, not on the dole! - 22 November 2005

Six: Good things cum... - 8 November 2005

Five: Tiny Steps - 27 October 2005

Four: Welcome to my new world - 18 October 2005

Three: Who’s the daddy now? - 4 October 2005

Two: Adrift on a sea of uncertainty - 30 September 2005

One: Back in the saddle again - 23 September 2005

Zero: The full discreetlondon treatment - 12 September 2005

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Special Features:

1) discreetlondon answers! * * * UPDATED 16 February 2006 * * *

2) previous discreetlondon answers!

3) ask discreetlondon anything!

4) read a brand NEW interview with discreetlondon * * * New * * *

5) find out what other readers think of discreetlondon! * * * UPDATED 31 December 2005

6) A Special Note for a Special Occasion! - 10 December 2005 - BONUS ENTRY

A special "internet-only" note from discreetlondon

2007-03-12T09:26:00.000Z

Hello again.

It’s been exactly six months to the day, since my last proper post here and if you haven’t worked it out already, I’ve given up blogging.

For those of you who have been checking frequently for new posts, I’m sorry that I’ve disappointed you.

This blog, my second, will be coming offline soon as we are preparing to publish it with release the expected in April. If you haven’t read it already, you better be quick or be prepared to purchase a copy!

For those of you who want to who how all of this turned out for me, you will have to wait for publication of “divorcedlondon: the continuing adventures of discreetlondon” as it will be the only place to read my exclusive, final entry, entitled, “The rest of my life”. I can promise you a couple of surprises if you do read it.

This has not been an easy post for me to write and I’m finding myself surprisingly emotional about giving up this blog. I’m going to miss it; I’m going to miss being “discreetlondon”. The truth is, I already do!

I want to take this opportunity to thank each and every person who has visited my blogs or purchased my first book. Thank you so much for your interest and support. I hope all your dreams come true.

All the best,
discreetlondon
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Monday – 12th March 2007

You can buy my book NOW!

2006-10-22T08:30:00.000+01:00

Great news!

"discreetlondon: the secret internet diary of an unfaithful husband - the complete UNCENSORED blog"
is now available to order, exclusively online!

Please visit my official website:
www.discreetlondon.com
for more details

Update!
Now available online from Amazon UK

Bonus post: Read a NEW interview with discreetlondon!

2006-10-13T11:58:00.000+01:00

Greetings fans!

The release of my book, “discreetlondon: the secret internet diary of an unfaithful husband – the complete UNCENSORED blog” is rapidly approaching!

After my recent health scare, I can’t think of more exciting news!

As a bit of a promotion, I thought I would bring you an as-yet unpublished interview I did with a magazine journalist last spring. The feature article about me was expected to be published last summer, but was suddenly dropped by the magazine at the last minute due to space limitations.

The journalist who interviewed me explained that he would try to sell the interview elsewhere, but as I haven’t heard back from him since, I’m sure he won’t mind me posting it here for you.

The main topic of the interview was finding NSA sex on the internet, but of course some of the questions focused on me too. How could they not?

Just like my previous interview with that tabloid reporter, this one was conducted via instant messages, to preserve my anonymity.

I removed any references to the journalist’s real name and his publication; otherwise, this is the full, unedited text. Enjoy!

(Friday 3rd March - 9am)
===================
magazine journalist [09:01:18]: hi there

discreetlondon [09:01:47]: good morning. you're prompt, I appreciate that

magazine journalist [09:03:03]: okay, I have read some of your blog, but for the piece we'll have to assume I haven't, as I'll need quotes that summarise. Firstly, how did you start using craigslist? And more specifically, the casual encounters section?

discreetlondon [09:04:55]: That's fine, I understand. I started using craigslist a couple of years ago, after spotting an article in a newspaper about how popular it was...especially the Casual Encounters or CE section of the site. The description they gave of it made it sound like a sexual free-for-all and I wanted to taste that myself. Once I did, I went back for more again and again! No-strings sex is the best!

magazine journalist [09:05:42]: were you married at that point? was that part of the attraction, that you could get away with it easier?

discreetlondon [09:07:31]: yes, indeed I was married then and yes it was part of the attraction, a big part. As a married man, you want as few real-world ties as possible with a discreet partner and by meeting someone through craigslist, that is easily accomplished. I would venture a guess that 60-75% of the men using craigslist are married. Oh and for the record, my wife never caught me cheating...actually I caught her!

magazine journalist [09:08:10]: had you used any similar site before craigslist? if not, why not?

discreetlondon [09:09:27]: No, not really. I didn't know of any other sites, but I have used another one since called Gumtree, which is nowhere near as good. The first time I cheated on my wife it was with someone I worked with at the time and I realised that was a very bad idea, but knew I wanted more discreet fun. I thought about different ways to meet other women secretly....

discreetlondon [09:10:51]: I tried chatlines, I used massage parlours, I tried internet chat rooms, instant messenger software, the works. The only sure fire method was meeting a whore and I knew I had to do better. I have received spam from loads of adult contact sites, but they all charge for their services and for all I know, could just be scams. craigslist is perfect, it has real people, looking for real sex and it's totally free!

magazine journalist [09:11:30]: what's your experiences of it been so far? How many women would you say you've met?

discreetlondon [09:13:35]: I would say my experiences so far have been fantastic! For me, meeting a complete stranger is a total rush, it's about the most exciting thing you can do, especially when it is as anonymous as craigslist is...I never exchange photos and just adore it when I get a complete stranger to visit me on very short notice! I love women, all women, any woman...and I really don't mind who I meet. I've been lucky, everyone I've met has been very nice and there's always something you can find attractive about a woman, especially if you're going to screw her!

discreetlondon [09:14:55]: As far as giving you a number goes, I'll tell you a story. Before I started my first blog, I had real trouble keeping track of all the women I shagged. Finally, I sat down and tried to make a list and I knew it was missing some. A couple of weeks later, I tried again and this second list overlapped with the first by only 50%, so I realised I'd never be able to keep count, there's just been too many !

magazine journalist [09:15:25]: but could you make an educated guess?

discreetlondon [09:16:54]: oh god, you are really putting me on the spot here. If I guess too low, I'll be cheating myself out of shagging cred, but if I go to high I'll sound like a man-slut! Let's say between 200-300 in the last 3 years or so. That's probably as realistic as I'm going to get

discreetlondon [09:17:10]: but that counts blow jobs, hand jobs and me going down on them too

magazine journalist [09:18:40]: is there a 'type' of women you find yourself meeting, or does is vary wildly? I guess the assumption from some guys would be the standard of women wouldn't bee too high, is that true? Or are there lots of young, successful women on there too looking for some easy sex?

discreetlondon [09:20:53]: All of the above! For me, I try to make a quick decision based on the information at hand, emails, brief telephone conversations, just the general feeling I get. The truth is attitude and availability matter more to me than physical appearance, within reason of course. I always have a rule in place that either one of us can change our minds, without explanation or having to be asked "why?" and coming up with an awkward answer and so far, no one has used it with me and I haven't used it on anyone either.

discreetlondon [09:22:22]: And I haven't met every woman I've been in contact with. Very recently, I was exchanging emails with a woman and something didn't seem right with her. I politely told her "no thanks" and that I didn't think meeting would be a good idea. I thought that was the end of it, but she started stalking me online, dozens of emails every day! I taught her a real impressive lesson though! I wrote about it in my blog, if you want a good laugh!

magazine journalist [09:23:53]: what's been your best craiglist experience (take you time to answer)?

discreetlondon [09:24:19]: that's a tough one, because I've had so many...let me think....

discreetlondon [09:27:01]: ok, the one that just lept out of my memory is this: meeting a woman on new years eve last year, while my wife was working. She was the mistress of another married guy and naturally he was with his family, so she was looking for something to do to celebrate the new year, discreetly and without strings. Aside from the fact that she was extremely hot, I mean amazing..!...it was the fact that this would have been the last night I would have ever expected to pull someone from the 'net. without craigslist, this encounter and many of my other experiences would not have been possible!

magazine journalist [09:28:38]: you say most of the men using craigslist are married, is the same true of the women you meet?

discreetlondon [09:29:55]: some, but I would guess there are less married women than married men, but I'm just basing that on my experience. the women on there tend to vary. the only thing I would say they all have in common in access to the internet! everything else differs in a million ways

magazine journalist [09:30:40]: what would you say, if any, has been the main drawback about it?

discreetlondon [09:33:56]: timewasters. allow me to explain. there is a percentage of people playing online that will never meet you. there are many reasons for this, they could be scared, change their minds, they could be men pretending to be women, they could be women who just want fantasy material to wank to, or the ever popular picture collectors. There are people who will give you fake phone numbers, there are women who will call u for phone sex and hang up as soon as they cum. There are even women who take your address, arrange to visit, then don't show up. That's the downside. Luckily for me, I figured this out early and came up with some foolproof methods to miss out on most of this pointless nonsense. I'm happy to share a couple of my winning tips, if you think you're readers would find them useful.

magazine journalist [09:34:51]: yes, i think a brief summary would be interesting...

discreetlondon [09:36:56]: ok, that's fine, I'll give you one of my personal favourites that have never failed me. First and foremost, whether you are married, attached or single, get yourself a second, secret mobile phone. Always keep it on vibrate, unless you are alone, always keep it switched off and master-pin protected. They are seriously cheap these days and you have no excuse not to own one if you are going to play my kind of discreet games. And if you need to ditch any of your lovers, all you need is a new SIM card and everyone you knew is history!...

magazine journalist [09:42:06]: wow - you really do have it worked out. Can i ask, have you come close to sparking up a genuine relationship with anyone from craigslist, or is each encounter a one-time deal?

discreetlondon [09:42:27]: As you can see, I'm an expert on this subject, I have more knowledge and experience than anyone else you'll ever find!

discreetlondon [09:42:52]: Umm, I've seen people more than once, but no, nothing serious. After the way my marriage ended, I'm quite happy to stay NSA for as long as possible

magazine journalist [09:43:53]: when you post an ad, what do you say, and how many responces will you usually get in reply?

discreetlondon [09:46:22]: there's no set rules to any of it. When I post, I tend to put up more than one advert, each with a different approach, tone and offer. There is a lot of competition out there, so anything that gives me an edge, I use it. As far as replies go, that varies too, from the time of day, the day of the week, even the time of the year and probably the phase of the moon! I have found that replies tend to come in clusters, so it must mean that I've struck a certain note that's played on more women than time. But you can't use the same advert over and over, if women notice it every day, you'll never get a response! You need to freshen them up regularly

magazine journalist [09:47:19]: what different approaches, for instance, do you use? what yields the most responces?

discreetlondon [09:48:23]: ok, I'll tell you the one that used to work the best for me, but so many people have copied it, that it's no where near as effective. And when I say copied, I mean cut and pastes from my blog as well as from craigslist. People do it to me all the time, which is another reason why I need to change them often!

discreetlondon [09:49:22]: The best one was simple "genuine oral sex available without strings or anything expected in return for any woman in need". I came up with it first! Now, look on gumtree and craigslist, you'll see dozens on that particular offer!

discreetlondon [09:50:25]: That one always attracted heaps of replies and every time I ran it, until it was done to death by everyone else, I always ended up meeting a few women from it. And it always went further than the offer...once I gave them the full discreetlondon treatment, they let me do anything I wanted!

magazine journalist [09:52:20]: I have to ask the question that I guess would spring to mind of many of my readers, would be: wouldn't that attract women a bit, well, fat/ugly, when you say "any women in need"?

discreetlondon [09:54:52]: I was worried about that as well, but there's a certain amount of, um, I'm not sure of the best word, self censorship I guess, out there. Just imagine for a second you are the fat, ugly girl. How confident would you need to be to walk into a stranger's flat, knowing he could just say "no thanks" and you'd have to leave without so much as a handshake? You'd need to be brave, crazy or stupid and I think they are probably more sensitive than that. Rejection is rejection whether it’s in a pub or club or my front room at 2am on a Friday night. If you think you are going be rejected, then you aren't going to take the risk...

discreetlondon [09:55:28]: That said, I have met women this way I would never have thought to chat up in public, but I just see that as interesting diversity. I've never been ashamed or disappointed by anyone I've met or anything I've done

magazine journalist [09:55:57]: do you ask to see pictures first? do you send women your picture?

discreetlondon [09:58:17]: no and no. When I was married, I would never have considered sending my picture to anyone, I can't think of anything more indiscreet than emailing my photo to a stranger on the internet! It could be anyone, from your wife's best friend to a tabloid reporter! Since them, I did not think it was fair to ask for pictures and to be honest; it wouldn't make a difference to me. Attitude and availability count much more! For craigslist, I would never, ever bother with a photo. Sometimes it means you miss out on meeting someone, but then that's there loss! I prefer it to be totally anonymous and the first time I see them is when I open my door and lead them into my flat!

magazine journalist [09:59:06]: Fair enough. I'm insterested, are you just as likely to chat up women in a bar for a one-night stand, or would you always prefer craigslist?

discreetlondon [10:00:40]: I don't mind where I find a woman, just as long as I am finding one somewhere and often! The lazy part of me enjoys craigslist more, because I can do it from home; I can relax, have a jacuzzi, put on my favourite charcoal grey robe and have a willing, horny woman come to me. Doesn't that sound like a little corner of heaven, with a velvet rope around it and your name on the little table on a tiny little white card?

magazine journalist [10:01:42]: do you think you'll get tired of it? Isn't it a little unsatisfying?

discreetlondon [10:03:09]: If you get tired of NSA sex and discreet fun then I think you're also probably just tired of life! I could never see stopping my discreet lifestyle! I enjoy it way too much to ever give it up! And if you think its unsatisfying, you should take a walk in my shoes for a fortnight. I think it might alter your perspective!

magazine journalist [10:04:24]: I don't mean sexually, but - for the risk of sounding like I'm moralising (and I'm not - I can certainly understand the attraction to it) isn't there something a bit emotionally shallow to it? At least meeting a girl in a bar means there's some connection that got it started...

discreetlondon [10:05:29]: You're making a distinction between a pub pick-up and a net hook-up and I don't think it's a fair splitting of the hairs. You're pointing out the differences between the means, but the end result remains the same.

magazine journalist [10:06:14]: true - and I'm only asking if you see a difference. I'm only suggesting that other people might...

discreetlondon [10:07:00]: If anything, a pick-up is more shallow, because you're pretending you're interested in a woman and her life, you act like you're paying attention, but really all you want to do is get in her knickers! My way is much more honest and direct, with any of the false niceties. I'm not saying its not polite and friendly, because it is, but you know where you stand.

discreetlondon [10:07:42]: Let me ask you this, rhetorically of course. Have you ever slept with woman once and not phoned her back? Isn't that more cruel than agreeing to have a sexy sensual session together for just one night, without strings?

magazine journalist [10:07:43]: when you put it like that, I think you have a very good point

magazine journalist [10:08:13]: yes, I have, and that's certainly true - at least your way is honest

discreetlondon [10:09:12]: Internet hook-ups are the future. More people are staying single, if you believe the papers, we're all working harder for longer hours and lower pay and people in their 30s are living at home! That really does my head in! They're all going to need sex, on terms and a schedule that suits their lives. My discreet lifestyle is already there!

magazine journalist [10:09:49]: well, I think that's all I need - I know some of the questions may have been a little stark - especially at the end there - but I hope you see that's just me doing my job, to get the quotes from you like the following, which was a very good point: "If anything, a pick-up is more shallow, because you're pretending you're interested in a woman and her life, you act like you're paying attention, but really all you want to do is get in her knickers!"

discreetlondon [10:09:51]: I was lucky, when I was married, my wife worked shifts and she did lots of weekends and overnights, so I had the time, the place, the opportunity and the discreet mind to get away with it! Once I tried it, I got hooked!

magazine journalist [10:10:10]: if I have any other things I really wanted to ask, is it okay if I send you a quick email?

magazine journalist [10:10:26]: but thanks so much for your time

discreetlondon [10:10:32]: mr journalist, it was fine, I enjoyed. I felt a bit phylosophical at the end!

discreetlondon [10:10:43]: please feel free to email with more questions, I'll reply asap

discreetlondon [10:10:49]: and one question to u...

magazine journalist [10:10:53]: certainly

discreetlondon [10:11:38]: I have this idea for being an "agony uncle" for married men in a magazine and I actually have a section on divorcedlondon where I do just that. Do you think that's something your magazine might be interested in?

magazine journalist [10:13:16]: well, I don't think an 'agony uncle' is really my magazine’s style - but they do have two columnists - one male and one female - writing about relationships. An entire montly column specifically on married men would be too specific I would imagine

discreetlondon [10:13:45]: I sort of thought your magazine might be too upmarket for my low brow advice!

magazine journalist [10:14:21]: the other - more general - pointer, is that even the people who do those are professional journalists and writers, who end up in those positions, rather than simply people who have 'been there' - if you know what I mean

discreetlondon [10:14:31]: What I want to do is answer letters. The feature has been very popular with my fans online, so I thought I should try to find a way to get paid for doing it, since I was doing it on a small scale anyway!

discreetlondon [10:16:09]: Yes, I do take your point. It's just the example that was given to me was "The Happy Hooker" from Penthouse, who had letter's section in that magazine for something like 30 years, all based on her life experience

magazine journalist [10:16:53]: To bo honest, it works like this: you'd either be a non-writer, but a celeb, a 'name' the publication can flag on their cover (that's for tabloids, lads mags, women's and celeb mags) and for the higher end (style-type style mags, broadsheets etc) you'd just need to be an excellent and proven writer. I can't think of anyone who doesn't fall into one of those two categories... well, there is Belle De Jour, but then she attained a big level of celebrity - so you'd need to be like her I guess

discreetlondon [10:17:22]: hopefully after your article is printed, I'll be just as well known!

magazine journalist [10:17:49]: well, it's certainly a start - I'm sure belle de jour was first written about somewhere before it snowballed

magazine journalist [10:18:01]: so there's every chance

discreetlondon [10:18:45]: Yes, I bet that is true. Thank you very much for your advice mr journalist. You can tell people you were the first one who brought me from the darkest shadows of the internet into a mainstream publication!

magazine journalist [10:19:04]: wonderful! and again, thanks for your time

discreetlondon [10:19:09]: I look forward to reading your article! Thanks again for the pointers!

discreetlondon [10:19:12]: my pleasure!

discreetlondon [10:19:44]: bye

magazine journalist [10:19:49]: bye
===================

I hope you enjoyed reading the interview, I’m just sorry that the magazine cancelled the story as I think it might have brought me an even more fans! Hopefully with the launch of my book so close, there will be other opportunities to receive some long overdue media attention!

Only time will tell!

All the best
discreetlondon
xxxxxxxxxxxxx

A brand new leaf

2006-09-12T10:13:00.000+01:00

I returned to work for the first time since my heart attack last week.

My desk was surprisingly uncluttered, and my week fairly stress free, thanks to my assistant, Terry and the senior sales executives in my department. They all worked very hard to hold the fort in my absence and I’m grateful to them for that.

I don’t want to say that my presence at work isn’t necessary, but it does seem like everyone has done fine without me. I’m still been receiving my performance bonuses, so I must still be doing something right!

My boss, the managing director, has been brilliant about my recent illness; he’s been incredibly supportive, kind and generous. Also the private medical insurance was a godsend, making sure I didn’t have to wait too long for tests or treatment and of course, my private room.

A heart attack; I didn’t see that coming.

I’m probably the only one who didn’t. Forests and trees, eh?

On the night of my heart attack, I was home; I was alone, though I wasn’t expecting to stay that way.

I had booked a prossie to visit me, from my former favourite website which features independent working-women. I was looking forward to another classic discreetlondon evening with all the trimmings.

I was ready to party that night, as I was most nights; as I did most nights. And days; I was out of control with cocaine, my drinking was fairly full-on too. I guess it was only a matter of time before it all caught up to me.

I was ready and waiting for the whore to arrive. On top of my usual mix of booze and charlie, I also took a couple of Erectalis tablets.

Another of my bad habits: double-dropping the penis pills because one tablet just wasn’t cutting it. Kids, please don’t try this at home!

I’ve since found out from my doctor, just how risky doubling the dosage can be and even worse, mixing it with a stimulant like cocaine.

Yes, I came clean with my doctor. I had to do it, as they couldn’t find anything wrong with my heart after all the testing, just some scarring from the heart attack, but no blockages or obstructions.

Rather than keep my doctor searching for the cause, I confessed to my many sins.

My doctor wasn’t surprised I had the heart attack, based on what I told him. Actually, if anything surprised him, it’s that I didn’t have the heart trouble sooner!

My recent illness was self-inflicted and I was the sole architect of my near-demise. I really could have died that night and still could, if I ever slip back into my old ways.

That’s not going to happen. I’ve sworn off all of it and am living clean and healthy from now on. I’ve given up the charlie for good, I’m not going to drink any more and quite controversially for me, I’m never touching another Erectalis or Vega ever again!

I’ve been using performance-boosting pills for a couple of years now, fairly regularly. I didn’t know they could possibly have potentially dangerous and lethal side-effects.

I know now; I found out the hard way!

Fear is a rather strong motivator, especially when death is the possible outcome if you remain on the same path.

Since coming home from hospital, I can’t say I’ve had much of a sex drive. I think I’m probably too scared to even think about it. I don’t even know if I could get it up, if I tried.

I’m serious; I haven’t woken up with an erection in weeks now. I used to always have “morning wood” and since the heart attack, nothing.

Maybe it’s because I’m still recovering, maybe I’m finally past it or maybe I just can’t do anything without a little pharmaceutical boost.

However you look at it, my shagging days may actually be over. Those are words I never expected to be writing, and I’m guessing you never expected to be reading them!

But I’m still alive, that’s what matters most, isn’t it?

On the night of my heart attack, I was home, I was alone, waiting for the prossie I booked.

She never came, never called. I tried to phone her, several times and all I got was her voicemail.

I was coked up to the gills, drunk and pilled up on Erectalis. I was ready to party, I was ready to shag, but the hooker never arrived.

When it finally dawned on me that she wasn’t going to appear, I tried to find someone else, which at 2am on a Saturday night is nigh impossible. If they’re not already booked; they’ve shut-up shop for the night.

I’ve been spending a lot of time with Doug, my literary collaborator and dare I say, friend. He’s really been there for me. I know I’ve had my ups and downs with him and have whinged about him on more than one occasion, but he’s really been a great help through all of this.

Doug visited me several times in hospital, brought me all of your emails and has generally been very supportive. He saw the trouble coming and even tried to point it out to me, before my heart attack, but I was too stupid and pig-headed to listen to him.

He explained to me why he was so concerned; Doug lost a close friend of his to cocaine abuse a couple of years ago.

Doug’s friend was fifty years old when he died and was a long time coke-head. He’d recently settled down with his partner and had a couple of children, who were both quite young when he died. Doug’s friend was home with his partner, watching TV on a Saturday night. He got up from the sofa, took a step and then fell flat on his face. He never got up again.

The autopsy revealed serious damage to his heart, most likely from his long term cocaine use. The doctors said the only thing that would have saved him would have been a heart transplant.

I don’t want to heart transplant! I don’t want another heart attack! I want to live as long as I can! For me, that means no more drugs, legal or otherwise.

I wish it didn’t take a heart attack for me to realise the error of my ways. I thought I could enjoy all of these illicit pleasures without it catching up to me. I was wrong, nearly dead wrong.

Doug’s been visiting me regularly, which has been good. Last Sunday, he dropped by and treated me for lunch at a restaurant nearby.

After the meal, we were walking up Sussex Gardens back to my place, when we saw a sign that made us both burst out laughing.

The sign said: “47 kerb crawlers have lost their licenses here in the last year.”

As you might recall, Sussex Gardens is where I was meeting streetwalkers last winter. It was also where I was mugged. At least, I was never arrested!

Doug and I have made some serious progress on turning my first blog into a book.

Doug’s friend Simon proof-read the manuscript for us and Doug has already made all of those changes. Doug’s friend also suggested that if we cut around 20% from it, that it would be a much better, crisper read.

Doug’s friend is right and I’ve told Doug to make the additional changes. Basically, I have handed the entire project over to him and I’m going to let him to chop it down so that it is a tight, fast paced story.

Let’s face facts, I can’t do it myself. I’m too close to it and besides, I think every word is essential to the story, since every word is mine. I wouldn’t know where to begin to edit it down. Doug says it will take him a few weeks, so we are still way behind schedule.

Wouldn’t it be nice if it was available to buy in time for Christmas? Can you think of a better gift than my book?

And for those of you who would like to read “The Secret Internet Diary of an Unfaithful Husband” online, you better be quick! Once it’s in print, the blog is coming offline, for good. There’s no point trying to sell the thing, if you can get it for free online! I’ll leave it up for the time being though, so get in there while you can and then buy the book too!

Doug told me something funny; he’s told a few people he works with about my blogs and he’s got them all reading them, but that’s not the funny part. What amused me so much is that Doug’s work colleagues think he’s actually the writer!

If you knew Doug, you’d understand just how laughable this is!

My best mate, Bob, has been around more lately as well and we’ve actually cleared the air between us.

I’ve known Bob since I was a teenager and he’s my best friend in the world. I thought he had distanced himself from me because of his recent marriage, but that wasn’t the reason at all. He just couldn’t deal with my drug use.

Bob’s certainly no angel himself and he’s partied with me many times, but Bob’s relationship with coke is much different from mine. He can take it or leave it, I can’t; I can only take it…and take it and take it!

I’ve missed Bob and I didn’t really realise how much until he told me what a jerk I’d been. It made me understand that I had driven my best friend away from me. I won’t let it happen again.

Jenny, my favourite employee, visited me regularly in hospital.

I was actually quite surprised that she spent so much time with me. I’m sure her husband must suspect something because “visiting the boss in hospital” must sound a bit dodgy night after night.

Jenny’s concern seemed quite genuine and I was very touched by her attentiveness. We’ve had a long running flirtation that I’ve never consummated and now it looks even more unlikely that I ever will. Right now, I don't think I'd be able, anyway.

On the night I had my heart attack, I was really wound up too tight.

Once I established that the whore I was expecting wasn’t coming, I got even more agitated. I took more coke, downed more whiskey and considered my options.

I didn’t have many. I was wide awake, wasted and fully erect, but alone in my flat with nothing but hardcore porn and my infamous charcoal grey robe for company.

I couldn’t sleep, I was too wired and my cock hurt from being so hard.

I wanked and then I wanked again. My cock was still rigid.

As I was having my third wank in less than an hour, I started to feel tightness in my chest and I began to get breathless.

At first, I didn’t think anything of it and continued to pummel my prick.

Then the pain suddenly got more intense.

It felt as if I was kicked hard in the chest by a stallion.

I thought my heart was going to stop.

I thought my heart might explode.

I was dizzy, gasping for air, lying on my sofa with the hardcore porn still playing. I’d never known pain like this before. I hope I never do again.

I may have blacked out for a while; I’m not really certain how much time passed. It could have been ten minutes; it could have been an hour or more. I’m just not sure.

I knew I needed help. I knew whatever was happening with me was serious. I called 999; I whispered to the operator, told her I needed paramedics as soon as possible. I gave her my address and told them to hurry.

I crawled to the front door of my flat and opened it. I was slumped on the floor, against the wall. I could just about reach the entry phone and prayed I would stay conscious long enough to buzz them in.

I don’t know how long I waited, but the paramedics finally arrived and came straight up to my flat. They put a heart monitor on my chest, they gave me oxygen, and they checked my vital signs.

Once they were confident they could move me, they put me on a wheeled-stretcher and took me to their ambulance.

From my place, it’s a very short drive to St. Mary’s hospital in Paddington. They brought me straight to casualty, which as you can imagine on a Saturday night, in central London, is fairly busy.

Again, I’m not certain how long I waited, but they took blood samples, checked my vital signs repeatedly and gave me an injection of something. I still don’t know what it was.

The blood test showed some chemical marker that confirmed what had happened; I had a heart attack. I was eventually transferred to the coronary unit, where I remained until I was released.

I don’t remember that much about that night and think they might have given me a sedative or something to help me sleep.

During my time in hospital, I had all sorts of tests, including dye being shot into me, so they could look at my heart in detail. None of the tests showed any of the normal signs of a heart disease, like a blocked artery. The doctor’s seemed stumped.

I had the hospital phone my mate Bob, who came to see me the next day. He said I looked terrible. I bet he was right!

I felt terrible. I was weak, so weak, even speaking was an effort. I couldn’t believe how hard it hit me!

I had tubes running into my arm, wires attached to my chest and this weird plastic thing with a red light in it, clamped to my finger. They wanted to fit me with a catheter but I wouldn’t let them! A tube up my cock is not my idea of pleasant!

Bob called my ex-wife and she came to see me. I didn’t really expect that, but she was very concerned and surprisingly supportive.

She said she was worried about my drug use too, which is actually quite funny as the one occasion when she caught me with cocaine, was only the second time I had ever tried it.

Now that I think of it, that night when I tried coke for the second time was a real turning point for me and not a good one.

The escort who sold me that charlie is the one who originally put me in touch with Elvis, my dealer. I guess you could say that night put into motion events that contributed to near demise.

As my ex-wife is a nurse, she read my chart. I watched her read it with a pensive expression on her face, as she probably understood all the notes and test results far better than I ever could.

She wouldn’t tell me what it said though; instead explaining that it was up to my doctor to give me this information.

She asked me something quite strange; she asked me if I had been faithful to her during our marriage. At the time, I didn’t realise why.

I told her, with a perfectly straight face and no irony in my voice, that indeed I had been loyal and monogamous the entire time.

Under those circumstances, what else could I have said?

She didn’t have her daughter with her, which I guess was a blessing and I didn’t ask where she was; it’s none of my concern anyway.

She really is my ex-wife now, finally. When I was released from hospital and returned to my flat, the final divorce paperwork, the decree absolute, was awaiting me.

Maybe it had already been issued when she visited me, which could explain why she asked me if I ever cheated, but it was still kind of her to take the time to see me.

That's the thing about my ex-wife, even though she royally fucked me over with the baby, she is still capable of unexpected moments of kindness. Go figure.

My doctor, a cardiologist, is quite a character and has a great sense of humour. He was born in India, but has lived here in the UK for many, many years.

He seemed to take it as a challenge to discover what was behind my heart attack and ordered many tests.

I didn’t want to tell the doctor about my drug use. It was a combination of embarrassment and fear; I’m ashamed of my behaviour and I was afraid that the doctor might be duly bound to report me to the police or something.

Thankfully, neither was the case.

I could see how frustrated the doctor was becoming, as each test he ran on me came back negative. Finally, I felt so badly that I explained to him exactly what my lifestyle had been like for the last year or so.

I confessed to everything in lurid detail, I didn’t leave anything out.

My doctor listened with rapt attention, surprised by my revelations.

The doctor told me how lucky I was, how this could have been much, much worse. He explained that rest, exercise and a “change in lifestyle” were all I needed to get back to my former self.

Can it really be that simple?

I’ve been for some rehabilitation already and they’ve suggested I join a gym and keep up a light exercise regime until I build up my strength.

That’s the thing, I just always feel tired and I don’t know what I can do about that.

On the night of my heart attack, I had never been so frightened in my life.

On the night of my heart attack, my life changed completely.

On the night of my heart attack, I thought I would die.

I’ve turned over a new leaf. I’ve been given a second chance. I’m not going to squander it. I’m going to make the most of every second I have left.

I'm home and on the mend

2006-08-14T11:02:00.000+01:00

Hello again.

I’m back. I’m feeling better. I’m very embarrassed.

I got home from hospital last week, but didn’t really feel up to posting anything. I still don’t, but I’m going to force myself; very soon.

Not now, though. I’m not ready. When I am, you will all get a very considered account of what happened the night I had my heart attack and more importantly, why I think I had it.

I expect it is obvious to everyone how my lifestyle contributed to my health problems and you all probably saw it coming.

I wish I did, but I chose to ignore the runaway train that was my life.

Sometimes, it takes a really big shock to snap you out of something.

Sometimes, you are the last one to know just how fucking fucked up you’ve become.

Sometimes you have to put your hand up and take responsibility for your actions.

This is one of those times.

To say I feel remorseful would be an understatement. To call me contrite would be an insult. Surviving my heart attack is like being born anew and I’m not going to squander my second chance.

If you think I’ve done some deep soul searching recently, you would be correct. I’ve had plenty of time, spent sober, to reflect on the errors of my ways.

I’m going to change the way I live my life. I think I have already. I didn’t have a choice.

Now that I’m back in my flat; with all the old temptations crying out at me; I’m not giving in. I will not succumb to myself.

I’m turning over a new leaf. I’m behaving myself from now on. No more drugs, no more rampant casual sex and no more whores. I’m going to live a clean, healthy life. I want to live! I want to live for a very long time!

I also want to take a moment to thank all of my fans that emailed their kind wishes in the last couple of weeks. In light of my recent health problems, I don’t mean this as a pun, but reading your emails really warmed my heart.

I also have to thank Doug, who has turned out to be quite a good friend to me. As well as playing postman with the emails, he kept you all informed about my situation, visited me a few times in hospital and even dropped by yesterday with some shopping for me.

I can’t neglect to mention Bob, who finally explained to me why I hadn’t seen him so much recently. It wasn’t his brand new marriage, it was me! I only wish he spoke up sooner!

Even my ex-wife deserves an honourable mention, as she came to see me twice as well. And that brings me to a rather significant piece of DL news.

The title of this blog is finally truthful.

When I arrived home from hospital, amongst the pile of post awaiting my attention, was something from the court, my decree absolute.

I’m finally, officially, completely a free man, again.

And it couldn’t have arrived at a more appropriate time!

I've visited discreetlondon in hospital

2006-07-29T11:28:00.000+01:00

(Originally posted on discreetlondonnews)

Once again, this is Doug. I was able to visit discreetlondon on Friday in hospital and wanted to post another update on his health for his fans.

DL was alert and awake when I arrived, though he seemed tired and weak. He was oxygen and a drip, as well as a heart monitor. He wasn't particularly talkative, but seemed pleased that I visited.

His face was drawn and he looked gaunt to me, but I haven't seem him in a month or so. I know, as you do, what he had been doing to himself, so I can't say for sure if he looked that bad because of the heart attack or his lifestyle before it.

He said they still hadn't found anything physiological that caused the coronary and I asked him if he told the doctors about his drug use. He didn't answer, instead stating that he didn't want to talk about it.

We talked about the book launch and in light of his illness, agreed that we will now aim for late autumn. I don't think he would be up to it any sooner.

I printed out all the emails sent in by his fans and brought them to him. I didn't count them, but it was quite a healthy stack and the folder I carried them in was bursting!

DL was extremely touched by all of your warm wishes for his speedy recovery.

DL told me that he hopes to be released perhaps by the end of next week, or maybe early in the following week. The doctors want to make sure he is strong enough and they want to be certain that he won't have another heart attack before they allow him to go home.

The impression I got from DL is that the doctors aren't sure he is completely out of danger.

I didn't stay very long, because he seemed so exhausted. I think he was probably asleep before I reached the end of the corridor. I feel very sorry for him, he's had quite a rough time lately, even if it is true that much of it was self-inflicted.

That's it for now, I may try to pop in to see him again this coming week. If I do, I will come back here and post another update.

- doug

An update on discreetlondon's health

2006-07-26T10:47:00.000+01:00

(Originally posted on discreetlondonnews)

Hello again, this is Doug. I spoke to discreetlondon's friend Bob last night and got some more details on the heart attack.

It happened last Saturday night, the 15th of July. DL was home alone when it happened. He was able to telephone for the paramedics himself, which probably is what saved his life.

The heart attack was a moderate one and they are still running tests to find out more. He doesn't need a bypass or anything like that. They haven't found any blocked arteries.

Because DL has private medical insurance through his job, he's got his own room in the hospital. His condition is stable and he is conscious, but Bob says he seems very weak and subdued.

I asked Bob about DL's use of cocaine and if it was a factor in the heart attack. Bob says he thinks so, but DL has refused to tell the doctors about his drug use. Bob admitted that DL's cocaine use was why he hadn't been spending much time with him recently.

Even I said something to DL about his drug use and he just ignored me. He ignored everyone. I guess now he is paying the price.

Bob told me DL's ex-wife had been to see him, as had a couple of people from his office. I'm going to try to visit him myself towards the end of this week and will post another update if I do.

I'm sure DL would like to thank you all for the emails you have sent me wishing him a speedy recovery. If any more of his fans would like me to pass on any messages, please feel free to email me on doug@discreetlondon.com and I'll print them out and take them to him in hospital.

- doug

Urgent news about discreetlondon

2006-07-24T01:37:00.000+01:00

(Originally posted on discreetlondonnews)

Hello, this is Doug "the media guy" and this is my first post here. I'm sorry to have to let all of DL's fans know that last week, he had a heart attack.

I only found out tonight but I knew something was wrong because I couldn't reach him all last week. Normally he is good about staying in touch, especially when it concerns his upcoming book.

When I got home tonight I had a message on my answerphone from his friend Bob. It said that discreetlondon had a heart attack last weekend and was in hospital.

I don't know any more than that right now because it is too late to phone Bob back. I will try to speak to him tomorrow to find out more. If I do, I will come back and post an update here.

Please keep DL in your thoughts and prayers.

- doug

Back to work

2006-06-28T15:08:00.000+01:00

I’m in my office right now.

On Monday, I returned to work for the first time in a couple of weeks, having been off resting following an unexplained flutter in my chest while on a business trip.

I’m feeling great now, never better! It’s good to be back, this place needs me to give it a serious sorting out!

I decided not to bring any coke with me to work this week, but that went right out the window Monday morning, when my mate “Wheeler” came to visit me in my office to welcome me back.

It wasn’t even eleven o’clock and we started doing lines off my desk. After a couple, I knew I couldn’t go the rest of the day without more, so I bought a gram from “Wheeler” to tide me over until I got home. Since my other mate Elvis now supplies him, it was as good as ever.

I’ve been partying all week since then and have made sure I always have some with me. I think it’s giving me a bit of an edge, to really get things done.

On Monday I called my assistant, Terry in to see me and let him know in no uncertain terms that things were going to be different from now on and he wasn’t going to get away with any more of his shit.

He claimed not to know what I was talking about, but I knew he was lying. He pretended to get all upset, saying he was planning on having a civil service with his partner soon and how could I think such things, but I’ve got eyes and I know what I saw! I told him “to watch his step” with me.

Next I called “Ginny” into my office. I haven’t mentioned her in a while, but she’s been spending all her time on that small-business marketing plan of hers.

I let her know that I wasn’t happy with the pace of the project and the returns hadn’t been as high as I expected.

She tried to give me some shit about how it would take at least two years to build up her client base and the business plan took into account running at a loss for the first eighteen months or so.

I told her that was unacceptable. She was upset too. Tough.

Sometimes you’ve got to upset the apple-cart to get things done right!

After that, I had Terry arrange for a meeting with the Creative Director. That cunt has been pissing me off since I met him and I wasn’t having it any more.

He couldn’t fit me into his schedule until later this afternoon. I’m really going to give him a piece of my mind, starting with what happened in Birmingham.

Who does he think he is to be reporting back to my boss about me? It wasn’t his place to brief against me to the Managing Director. I won’t stand for that, not for one second! This confrontation is long overdue!

The one thing I haven’t been able to do is find a quiet moment to sort things out with “Jenny”.

I’m starting to think I might have missed my chance with her and with what happened in B’rum, I might have scared her off me.

I hope not, because I’ve been hot for her for so long it’s not funny any more. I know it’s tricky for her when we’re in London, because of her husband, but I’m sure we could sort something out during the day. We could get a hotel room near the office and my place isn’t that far really. It’s very do-able, I think I just need to make it happen.

My best mate Bob has been a bit of a vanishing presence in my life since his shock-sudden marriage recently. I hardly ever see him and we barely speak. I miss him, but he knows how well I’m doing at the moment, so it’s OK.

I ordered some more Erectalis this week and while I was on the site, I had a look at the whore listings, something I haven’t done in a few weeks. There were a lot of new girls available and it got my juices going again for the first time in a while.

I think I might be doing some punting this weekend; it will be one-on-one fun! I really need a discreet diversion right now!

“Annabelle” emailed me, following my last post and our mutually assured destruction campaign.

We’ve reached an agreement; she won’t name and shame me and in return I won’t mention her husband’s regiment in Iraq. Everybody wins!

I knew she would see sense and be reasonable once she saw the bigger picture.

She said she nearly did start a blog and still might. She’s registered the name already, Annabelle’s Blog and thinks there would be audience for it. She says she’s more than just the slutty wife of serving soldier, but I somehow doubt that.

Annabelle, if you do start blogging, good luck to you! I can’t see it becoming a future best seller, as you repeatedly predicted my forthcoming book would be, but I’m sure it would be a nice little hobby for you.

I’m really looking forward to the football on Saturday! Come on England! Thrash Portugal!

Enough already!

2006-06-22T02:07:00.000+01:00

Just stop nagging me, ok!

I can’t keep up with all your emails; it’s too many. I know I haven’t written to you, to any of you! How can I when they just keep coming?

And I am very aware that I haven’t posted anything here in a while. It’s not like this is my full time job. Just because none of your lives are as good as mine, doesn’t mean I’m living my life just for you!

My rules haven’t changed: I’ll post what I can, when I can. Ok?

I’ve been busy and I haven’t been very well if you must know.

A couple of weeks ago, on a business trip to Birmingham, I had what I think was a panic attack. Since then, my boss insisted I take some time off to rest. He says I’ve been working too hard.

Damn right, I work very fucking hard. I’m the hardest working employee in my company! I invented sales, there’s nothing I don’t know about selling. Don’t forget I’m the king of closers!

So I dropped “Annabelle” a couple of weeks ago. I had too, I just couldn’t bear her anymore and I don’t care if she reads this. She was threatening to unmask me, but I don’t really care, go ahead and start your own blog, bitch, see if I care!

All she ever wanted to do was book whores to come over for threesomes. Every night! It was just too much and too bloody expensive! You know, sometimes it’s nice to have a whore all on your own and not have to share all the bloody time!

But that wasn’t the worst bit, oh no. No the worst was a few weeks ago, some British soldiers got killed in Basra and Annabelle was with me when we heard the news.

No, it wasn’t her husband, but until she was certain of that, it was a really big downer. Listening to her bleat on and on about how her husband might be dead, for fuck’s sake that’s not really a turn on! It was doing my bloody head in!

I mean, imagine you have some really hot woman come to see you and then she sees on the news that something happened thousands of miles away and it just dominates every word out of her mouth! It was like a big glass of cold water tossed on my crotch!

If you love him so damn much, Annabelle, why were you shagging me? If he’s so damn great, why is he risking his life instead of being with you?

Of course he wasn’t dead. What are the chances of you hearing some soldier is killed in Basra and it turns out to be your husband, for fuck’s sake woman!

So go on and start your own blog, you can’t embarrass me, but I sure can embarrass you!

I wrote down his regiment, if you piss me off, I’ll post it here and then all the married soldiers in that squad will all be wondering which one of their wives was getting it so good from me and a fleet of costly whores!

So watch your step missy, two can play at the revenge game! Do you want to be responsible for destroying the morale of our boys in Iraq? Do you?

And who is going to read your blog anyway? Some cheating slutty wife-whore of a brave soldier fighting in Iraq! You’ll never get an audience! People would hate you!

I’m pissed off with Doug; we had a huge argument about the book. Ok, so it’s sort of my fault, but he was a fucking prick about it.

Ok, so I didn’t get the proofreading done on the manuscript as quickly as I said I would. I was going to get to it. Plus, it was really hard, yeah? Reading your own writing is impossible!

Like I would proofread a chapter and think oh sure now that’s perfect and then like a day later, right I would go back and read it again and it would just still have all sorts of mistakes! I just couldn’t do it ok!

So Doug is all, look the website is done, the cover art is approved, everything is ready except the book itself mate! Doug thinks it’s so easy, well its not you know!

So we had a big argument and he said he had a friend that would proofread it and I said fine, so that’s where it is right now. Once that guy fixes all my mistakes, it can go off to the printer for the test printing. If that’s all ok, then we approve it and the book is finally for sale.

You know, it’s not just the words and the mistakes, reading that manuscript is like re-living my life and that’s no fun either you know? My life wasn’t as great as it is now, back then.

Like all the shit with my wife, which I was knee-deep in when I was writing in my other blog. Not like now, with my divorce finally being nearly final. The paperwork should come soon, the decree absolute thing and then let me tell you it’s going to be partyfuckingtime!

My wife, she’s a real piece of fucking work. You see, without the final divorce thing, I can’t even call that bitch my ex-wife yet!

Everything is just so fucked! I’m glad I’m ok!

And I am ok, what happened in B’rum is no big deal really. I was up there with a bunch of people from my office, the Creative Director and some of his staff, plus my favourite employee, Jenny.

The trip was finally going to be my shot at Jenny. I’d been playing such a long game with her that I thought I was going to burst! The night before our big sales meeting was going to be the big night. We all had dinner together as a group and then adjourned to the bar for after-dinner drinks when I discreetly suggested to Jenny that she join me back in my room for some sweet charlie, knowing full well that she loves the stuff too. I went up to my room first, to make it look less suspicious. Once I got up there, I had some charlie for myself and I double-dropped some Erectalis. I even debated taking a third; I wanted my cock to be as hard as titanium! Once Jenny joined me, we really started hitting the cocaine hard, really going for it and drinking too. I could see by the look in her eyes and I am sure she could see the same look in mine that we were going to get it on, finally. We were having a great time and then it started…

I was laughing at something Jenny said, really guffawing and then it was like I couldn’t catch my own breath. I started gasping and clutching my chest and then Jenny screamed and ran into the hallway, shouting for help.

People started coming out of their rooms, including the Creative Director, an ambulance was called. All of this was unnecessary; of course I was fine. I’m always fine!

The paramedics checked me out; they wanted me to go to the hospital, but I refused. I’d calmed down and was breathing normally, my only shame the erection straining against my trousers, throughout this entire ordeal.

Because I wouldn’t go to the hospital, I had to agree to miss the meeting in the morning and rest in the room. Jenny, needless to say, didn’t spend the night, so I was left all alone with nothing but my raging Erectalis hard-on for company.

I would have preferred Jenny.

I don’t really know what happened to me, even now. I think it must have been a combination of fatigue and nerves, both catching up to me at the same time. It was very bad timing, as I was really looking forward to finally nailing Jenny and being a part of this new contract pitch.

When I returned to London, my boss, the managing director, having heard about the previous night’s excitement, insisted that I take a fortnight off to rest and recover from my ordeal. I didn’t want to, but he insisted, so I couldn’t refuse.

Since then I’ve been off work, but I’m supposed to return next Monday. The MD wants me to get checked by a doctor, but I’ve told him I’m fine about coming back and really can’t wait to return.

I haven’t been doing very much while I’ve been off. I’ve barely gone out and the only person I’ve seen regularly is Elvis. I’ve been seeing him a lot, though even that is a drag because he’s always trying to push his Bulgarian whore’s on me.

And that’s the thing, since dumping Annabelle and that abortion of a night with Jenny; I really haven’t been in the mood for any discreet fun. That’s why I haven’t been writing anything, because I’ve been worried that my sex drive is gone!

The one good thing is I’ve been around to watch the World Cup! Beckham and the boys are doing great! Go England!

Can't sleep

2006-05-21T04:17:00.000+01:00

It’s the middle of the night, Saturday into Sunday and I haven’t been to sleep yet. I’ve been having a debauched weekend!

“Annabelle” has been here since Friday night and we’ve had another wild time. Sometimes I think she might even be more over the top than me.

“Annabelle” is asleep in my bed right now and how she’s managed that is beyond me! We’ve both been snorting charlie like it’s going out of style, though I guess I’ve probably had more than she has.

I haven’t known “Annabelle” that long, but she seems like the first woman I’ve ever met who really understands me. She understands me because she is very much like me. We’re very compatible.

On Friday night, we spent the evening alone together. It was intense. We drank a lot, snorted a lot and more importantly, fucked a lot. I’m really getting my money’s worth out of my double-dosing of the Erectalis!

“Annabelle” is so delightfully dirty, so deliciously debauched that I really have to work to keep up with her. My back is covered with scratches; she just can’t help herself, she gets very carried away.

We shared another whore tonight; “Annabelle” is really into it. She’s very bisexual and somewhat dominant with them. Actually, she treats them far more roughly than I ever would! I guess as a woman, she can get away with it. She made tonight’s prossie wince in pain a couple of times, again with her flexible, double-ended dildo. It’s a scary looking device; I can’t imagine what it must feel like!

I found out something interesting about “Annabelle” this week; she’s married. I was quite surprised to learn this, especially as she’s been staying over at my flat frequently. Turns out, her husband is in the military and is stationed in Basra right now, fighting the terrorists.

At first, when she told me this, I felt a bit funny about it. I mean, her husband is fighting to protect Queen and country while I’m giving it to his wife nearly every night.

And then I thought about it some more and realised that this is ideal for me! I’ve got no chance of being caught by her husband and she has plenty of free time to play. Screw the morality of the situation, convenience and availability count far more!

The one big downside is that I don’t have as much free time to shag anyone else, but I guess like everything in life, it’s a trade-off.

I wish I wasn’t so wide awake right now, but it’s good news for all of you, because you are getting this unexpected, bonus entry.

“Annabelle” told me I should try Temazepam, which is some kind of sleeping pill and should help me to come down from the charlie. She says she has a friend who is a nurse that should be able to get me some. Not tonight, obviously, but if she could get me some, that would be great.

I don’t really need any more sleepless nights!

I’m going to have another double-whiskey and a wank and try to go to sleep again. I guess I could wake “Annabelle” up and have her bring me off, but she’s sleeping so soundly, that I just can’t.

I’ll be back soon with a proper entry, keep checking!

Time of my life

2006-05-10T13:14:00.000+01:00

Yes, I’m still alive.

I don’t think I’ve ever left it this long between posts, except for my break between blogs, but that was announced beforehand. And it was a lot longer than a few weeks as well!

My only excuse for not posting anything recently is, quite frankly, because I’m having too much fun at the moment. I just haven’t had the free time.

My life is one long, non-stop party right now and I’m loving every minute of it!

Plus, getting the book ready is taking more time than I planned.

I’ve already requested several changes to the cover art and my final run-through of the manuscript is taking longer than I expected. I’m hoping we can submit the final version to the publisher this week.

It’s all eating up an amazing amount of my free time.

It’s worth it though, because at the end of this process, I’ll have my first book in print! I really can’t wait!

But the main reason I’ve been so lax lately is that I’ve been spending a lot of time with that fan I mentioned in my last post.

Yes, I met her and I’m very glad I did. She’s fantastic and a big part of the reason why I’m having such a grand time right now.

As she is a fan of the blog, I asked her if it would be OK if I wrote about her. She said that she would be disappointed if I didn’t!

She really is my kind of gal.

And this is a first, I asked her to choose her own false name for me to use when writing about her.

She chose “Annabelle”. She came up with it so quickly that it was as if she anticipated the question!

“Annabelle” is lovely; she’s incredibly sexy, attractive, smart and as horny as I am.

I don’t think I’ve ever known a woman so full of lust and ready to do anything to sate it! And I mean anything! We’ve had a wild time together already and I’m hoping that the pervy fun continues for a long time!

“Annabelle” is twenty-five and her most striking feature is her hair. She has a huge, thick, curly head of auburn hair and it’s the first thing you notice about her when you meet her. She also has a stunningly beautiful face, with delicate, feminine features and full, sensual lips.

“Annabelle’s” body is a sight to behold as well, clothed or naked. She has full, firm breasts, a slim waist and a bum that would make Jennifer Lopez jealous. She has an all-over tan, from the sunbeds at her gym and if I could post a photo of her, you would all be envious of me!

She started reading my blog a couple of months ago and finally worked up the courage to email me. She told me how hot my writing got her and though she isn’t the first woman to admit this to me, the way she did really grabbed my attention.

I phoned her a couple of weeks ago and we spoke on the telephone for hours. “Annabelle” is easy to speak to and she’s got a great sense of humour. After that rather lengthy conversation, we arranged to meet the following night.

I decided we should meet in a public place, so I chose a quiet pub not far from my flat. Since it was a weeknight, it wasn’t too busy and I was able to find “Annabelle” straight away. I found her more stunning in the flesh than in her photos, which didn’t really do her proper justice.

I introduced myself in a way that I’ve never done before. I went up to her and said, “Hello, I’m discreetlondon”.

I don’t think I’ve ever said those words out loud to another living person before. Ok, I know I haven’t.

“Annabelle” smiled and asked me to sit down, but before I did, I got another round of drinks in.

We sat in the pub for about an hour, before I suggested we return to my place to step-up the party somewhat. I didn’t have to ask twice.

Once back at my flat, I dimmed the light and flipped on the stereo to my favourite radio station, Heart FM. It really is the soundtrack to my love life!

Now with the mood set, I broke out the charlie. “Annabelle” was more than willing to share some of my favourite substance with me. I laid out several chunky lines on my glass coffee table and we each took turns having a snort.

There’s something particularly sexy about sharing your secret vices with a woman and “Annabelle” is an enthusiastic partner in crime, as you will soon discover from our second meeting.

But on that first night, after we did our first round of charlie, we shared our first passionate kiss. I don’t think I have the vocabulary to properly describe just how good it was. They haven’t invented a superlative or adjective that would truly express how it made me feel!

Now that we were both feeling good, I suggested we share my Jacuzzi and there was no argument from “Annabelle”. I went into the en-suite and started filling the tub, which takes a bit of time.

I double-dropped some Erectalis, to make sure I was ready and raring to go. I know it’s a bit expensive to take two at a time, but I find one on its own is less effective.

Then I returned to the lounge for another round of charlie and another snog.

We “made-out” like teenagers on the sofa, while waiting for the bath to fill. I could tell, with every kiss, that we made a connection on quite a deep level.

I’ll spare you the vivid and lurid details on my first sexual encounter with “Annabelle”, but as you would expect we did everything, with a special accent on me giving her the most thorough and complete full discreetlondon treatment I’ve ever delivered.

I’m surprised you didn’t hear her screams of ecstasy and delight wherever you are!

She spent the night with me and when we woke up the following morning, we did it some more! Thanks to the long lasting effects of the Erectalis, my performance the next day was just as good as the previous night.

After “Annabelle” left, all I could do was think about her. I really couldn’t wait to see her again!

As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait long. A couple of nights later, she came to visit me again, this time, with a bit of a plan.

“Annabelle” had previously revealed a fantasy of hers; she wanted to share one of my website whores with me. We agreed that this would be what we did on our second meeting.

While I have enjoyed threesomes in the past, I’d never actually shared a prossie with a woman before, so I was looking forward to the experience.

“Annabelle” wanted to be involved with the entire process, from the selection, to the booking, and the fun bits too!

Especially the fun bits!

As soon as “Annabelle” arrived, the party started. We did some coke and we had some drinks, whiskey for me and vodka for her.

Then we cracked open my PowerBook and logged onto my favourite prostitution website which is just chock full of independent whores.

“Annabelle” seemed a bit overwhelmed by the number of women available on this site. I left her to explore the choices while I prepared myself for the evening.

I changed into my charcoal grey robe and double-dropped some Erectalis as I expected I was going to more than need it for the strenuous evening ahead of me.

When I returned to the lounge, “Annabelle” was engrossed by the variety I presented her with. Eventually I helped her to narrow down her choices by adding criteria, the simplest being geographic. I set it to display women within six miles of my flat that were willing to meet a male-female couple.

That reduced the numbers down drastically and provided “Annabelle” with a more manageable selection. She then short-listed three different women and she asked me to make the final selection.

The choice was simple, as “Annabelle” had picked one particular young lady who I’ve had my eye on already. This hot whore supplied a mobile number, so I wasted no time in ringing her up.

She answered on the third ring and had a pleasant and engaging telephone manner. She said she was based near Heathrow, but was willing to travel to my place in Paddington for the evening.

I explained that there were two of us here, one male and one female and the prossie seemed to perk up a bit. She had women and couples listed on her webpage, as well as men, so providing us with pleasure was within her service options. We negotiated a price, three hundred pounds for two hours and she said she would be with us within the hour. So far, so good.

“Annabelle” asked if she could have a shower and change into “something more comfortable”. Naturally, she could.

While I waited for “Annabelle” to return and the whore to arrive, I put on a hardcore porn DVD to set the mood.

As if the mood needed any further setting!

I laid out some more coke, poured myself a double whiskey and reclined on my sofa.

The movie was pretty standard for gonzo porn; an “amateur” woman is first interviewed, then one or two guys shaft her. That’s followed by another sequence that is nearly the same, only with a different girl; everything else is pretty much the same. That goes on for ninety minutes or so and then the film ends.

It’s not like anyone watches porn for the riveting narrative. It’s wank fodder, nothing more.

“Annabelle” returned and sat down next to me on the sofa. She looked fantastic, with freshly applied make-up, a slinky black negligee and black stilettos. Wow!

I offered her some charlie, which she quickly snorted up and she asked for a vodka and orange. I was only too happy to provide.

Not long after that, our guest arrived.

One of the main reasons I had noticed this particular young lady previously on the website is simple; she is easily one of the best-looking women advertising there. Listed among her talents was glamour modelling and acting in porn and examples of her work could be seen on her listing on that website, including video clips and action stills!

I think this was probably the best looking whore I’ve ever seen in my life. “River” was hot, hot, HOT!

She was wearing tight blue jeans that hugged her perfectly peach-shaped bottom and a clingy top that only accentuated the curve of her tits. Her hair was shoulder-length and light brown, though in many of her photos her hair was blonde.

I invited her inside and introduced her to “Annabelle”; “Annabelle” then offered “River” some coke. As I stood there, watching these two stunning women take my drugs, knowing I would soon be sandwiched between them, I was overcome with the just how lucky I was!

If life gets better than this, I really will need to see proof! You can email me the photos.

I went to the kitchen and got more to drink for the three of us and returned to find the two girls chatting together on the sofa like long lost friends. I put the drinks down and joined them.

“Annabelle” was in the middle of the sofa, “River” was to the right, I sat on “Annabelle’s” left side. “Annabelle” turned towards me and asked how this worked.

I explained that it was simple; first we get the business out of the way. I then retrieved a plain white envelope from the pocket of my robe and passed it to “River”. I read a good tip that suggested placing the cash in an envelope is a discreet way to handle things.

Anything that’s discreet is perfect for me!

“River” tucked the envelope into her oversized handbag without opening it. I guessed at some point, before she left, she would go into the loo, open it and give it a quick count. I would too if I was in her position.

With the transaction completed, I thought we should celebrate, so I laid out the last of my wrap on the glass coffee table and racked up six lines this time, all thick and long. I bought some drinking straws at the supermarket, so no need to roll up a bank note!

I still use my supermarket loyalty card for chopping out the lines! Some things never change; though I no longer shop at that particular chain; they don’t have a branch anywhere near me.

We each took a turn with the straw, the charlie hitting my sinuses like rocket fuel and I was ready to blast off! I could tell “River” liked it too, as she mopped up the crumbs with the tip of her finger, and then rubbed the residue all over her gums.

Then without warning, “River” started snogging “Annabelle” deeply; grabbing her hair in her hands and pulling her head back hard. It was intense.

When they broke their embrace, “Annabelle” giggled; it was a combination of nerves and too much pleasure. I decided to give the girls a little time on their own to get to know each other and excused myself to the bedroom.

I grabbed the PowerBook and booted it up; then I got a fresh gram of charlie from my stash and had a little extra on my own. Don’t worry; I share more with my lady friends later.

Once the laptop was up and running, I went online. Believe it or not, I took ten minutes to sift through some fan emails. I’m way behind, again and if nothing else, this should show you two things; that my time truly is limited at the moment and that my fans matter to me a great deal.

That’s especially true of my fans, or else why would I be reading your emails when two hot women were in the next room waiting for the full discreetlondon treatment? I really don’t mean to neglect any of you and I’m sorry if my replies are not coming quickly enough! I’m trying!
I finished with the emails and put my PowerBook away and then I returned to the lounge. The girls were completely entwined on the sofa and kissing passionately; “River” had stripped down to her undies; a red and black basque with matching thong. Just thinking about this scene now, as I write about it, is getting me stiff and I haven’t even had any Erectalis in a few days!

I stood there, quietly, just watching these two incredibly hot women enjoying each other on my sofa. If I could have taken a photo or videotaped it, I would have.

Now, that’s a thought. I could have easily hidden a video camera somewhere in the room and recorded this without either girl realising it.

It’s not even that I would have to hide it, I’m fairly certain “Annabelle” would be up for it as she seems to be for everything. “River” said on her listing on that website that she was happy to be photographed or taped, for an additional extra charge.

I wish I thought of this before!

The session that followed was just so hot and amazing that I want to repeat it again with “Annabelle”; we did it all and then some!

“Annabelle” is super-kinky, she brought a lengthy, double-ended dildo with her, to use on “River”. And how did she use it? She double-penetrated “River” and did it so hard, that a breathless “River” asked her to easier.

It really was intense!

When we were finished, “Annabelle” and I said goodbye to “River” and then continued to snort and fuck for the rest of the night. We didn’t sleep a wink and when “Annabelle” left the following morning, we were both exhausted. I slept the entire day!

I’ve seen “Annabelle” more than a few times since then; we seem to be spending just about every other night together. I’ve yet to visit her place, she always comes to mine, but every time we are together it is just unbelievable!

I can’t believe I’ve been this lucky and all because of my writing here online! Now if only my book sells well, I really will be over the moon!

I’ve been re-reading “The secret internet diary of an unfaithful husband”; I’ve had to as part of the process of putting it out in print.

It’s odd to return to something that I haven’t practically looked at since I finished with it nearly a year ago. My, how times change.

It’s a laborious task; there are forty-two separate entries, or chapters as they will be in the book; totalling around one-hundred-thousand words! I didn’t know my vocabulary stretched that far!

Doug has already prepared the manuscript for the printers; formatted as a standard paperback. My role is to check the copy, correct my many mistakes and typos while getting one last chance to make any changes or alterations.

The idea is to publish my first blog in its entirety; like a historical record, which documents a rather eventful year or so in my life. Rereading it is especially surreal for me, since I lived every minute of it!

It’s very odd revisiting your own life as prose. I’m hoping to be finished with my simple revisions by the end of this week. That’s why this entry is so late, my normally free, blogging time, is being consumed by the book.

Doug has organised everything, though I didn’t realise how much work we would have to do on our own to get the book published.

Our release date has slid somewhat and you probably won’t be able to order the book online until at least early June and that would be direct from the publisher; it will take another month or so for it to be available from Amazon and other online retailers as well as being available for bookshops to stock it.

I’m counting on all of you, my legions of fans to order your copies as soon as it is released. Better yet, would be if you all went into your local book retailers and asked them to stock it! Let them know it’s an inside tip on this summer’s hottest read!

I’ve seen proofs of the artwork for the front and page covers and after a couple of final revisions, it should be approved. Doug’s younger brother is the graphic artist who is doing it for us, so it’s all “in the family” so to speak.

I can’t help it, I’m very excited. Thrilled really!

And here’s the weird bit, I can’t tell anyone!

Well, my mate Bob knows, but that’s about it! My real name won’t appear anywhere on the book, the author will be listed as “discreetlondon” and with the exception of Bob, Doug and now “Annabelle”, no one knows that’s my secret internet identity and touch wood, no one ever will!

The week before I met “Annabelle’, I had a session with another one of Elvis’s Bulgarian whores. It was OK, but nothing to get too excited about. This one seemed a bit disinterested but at least it was cheap.

I’m in no rush to book another one through Elvis, but every time I score some charlie from him, he gives it the hard sell. I suppose I will do it again, at some point. Perhaps “Annabelle” would like to share a Bulgarian next time?

I’ve completely abandoned the pre-orgasmic women and haven’t met any more of them since the last ones I wrote about. Aside from my lack of free time, over all they are just so physically and emotionally draining that I can’t bear to do it anymore.

A few of them have sent follow-up emails, but I’ve now given up checking that email account. It was fun at first, but like most things, it didn’t last.

I heard from my ex-wife since the last time I post, albeit indirectly. I received a letter from her solicitor who advised that the application for the “decree absolute” has been submitted to the court. That’s good news!

I’m pleased that she’s decided not to fight with me over this, I guess she was in no more a mood to drag it out than I was. That means I really will finally be divorced soon. I can’t believe its taken this long already!

I still think about her little girl, who nearly was my daughter, but I know I did the right thing. I couldn’t have pretended to be her father while knowing the truth.

I had a meeting with the head of Human Resources at my firm regarding the situation with Terry, my gay PA. I explained that his behaviour had been making me uncomfortable.
The HR guy was sympathetic and listened to the details of my plight patiently, but said without any proof or witnesses there was very little that could be done. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he said that sacking Terry could result in a discrimination lawsuit that he could probably win!

So I’m stuck with Terry until I can prove that he’s either sexually harassing me, or incompetent in the job. He’s never incompetent, so that means I need to make sure there’s a witness the next time he comes on to me. That might be impossible if its in the men’s room again!

I still don’t use the men’s on my floor actually.

I went up to Birmingham last week, but sadly I was on my own. At the last minute, “Jenny” had to cancel. I was very disappointed, to say the least.

My next little sales trip is in a fortnight and it’s a big one; we’re presenting to a potential new client in Bristol.

I’ve already asked “Jenny” to join me, but I’ll need to be careful, as the Creative Director and some of his team will also be attending.

And I’ve got one last thing to mention and that’s at Doug’s suggestion, I’ve started another BlogSpot blog! Don’t worry, I’m not giving up this one, it’s more of a supporting feature of my blogs. It’s called “discreetlondon news” and it’s purpose is to share any media news and other developments regarding the book and me.

I’m not adding a permanent link just yet, as I wanted to share it with my genuine fans first and if you have read all of this entry, you certainly qualify as a real fan!

And for those of you who can’t wait, the cover art of the book can be found, if you follow the right link to my brand new official site. It’s still “under construction” and not finished yet, but you’ll get an idea of what we’re doing with it.

With the book, my divorce finally becoming final and now having “Annabelle” around, things have never been better!

I really am having the time of my life!

All the news that fits

2006-04-13T10:57:00.000+01:00

This week, it seems like all I have is news on other people that I know.

Some of it is unexpected, some is surprising; other news I have is quite frankly worrying.

Some of it is good news; some of it is not.

The biggest headline this week is also the most unexpected; my best mate, “Bob” got married!

I can’t believe it myself; I thought he would never re-marry! “Gobsmacked” doesn’t even begin to describe my reaction!

He and his new wife, that rich bird from Chelsea, had a quickie ceremony in Paris last week. “Bob” says it was a spur of the moment decision and he didn’t have time to tell anyone beforehand, or I would have been his best man, again.

I still can’t believe it. The last time I saw “Bob”, only a couple of weeks ago, he gave me the impression that he was moving away from this women.

I’ve met her, she’s a bit posh and snooty, but I guess “Bob” knows what he’s doing. If he’s happy, then I’m happy for him.

“Bob” has moved into her place in Chelsea already, which means he’s giving up his flat here in my building but he’s not selling it; he wants to keep it and rent it out.

He asked me if I wanted to move into his flat when my lease is up, but I don’t. His flat doesn’t have a Jacuzzi and the views are not as nice, so I’ll stay where I am.

I am happy for “Bob”, but I can’t say I’m not disappointed that he’s leaving the neighbourhood. It was fun being mad bachelors on the town together, but I know that things change.

Life is change; change is life.

I’ve told “Bob” that I want to take him out to celebrate, like a belated stag-do and I’ve already suggested our favourite lapdancing club.

“Bob” declined, because he is trying to keep his nose clean, but I’m certain with a little gentle arm-twisting, I’ll get him to join me!

Don’t worry; I shan’t be following his example. The way I feel right now, I never want to get married again.

I’d have to be crazy to want to fall into that trap a second time and one thing I can assure you that I am not; is crazy.

Now for my shocking news; my mate Hans from my office has disappeared. Perhaps that’s an over dramatisation, but he really has vanished.

When I came into work this week, he wasn’t at his post, which is normally the main reception of my building where he’s been working as a security guard, longer than I’ve been there.

I didn’t think much of his absence at first, but I mentioned in passing to another guard; that I hadn’t seen him all this week and they told me he quit, unexpectedly, without any notice.

It’s very strange.

Hans and I became friends not long after I started; he’s from South Africa, but was working in London to earn better money than he could make back home.

We went out for drinks a couple of times, including one famous night at the lapdancing club. I even spent some time coaching him so he could pull the girl who worked on the coffee cart in reception.

She quit her job too, right after their big date.

Hans hasn’t been himself since then; he’s been quiet and withdrawn. I did try to coax out of him what was wrong, but he remained silent.

As soon as I found out Hans quit, I tried phoning his mobile several times. It went straight to voice mail on each attempt.

As I was a bit concerned, I decided to visit his bedsit in Shoreditch to see how he was and I got my second shock; he wasn’t there either.

I spoke to someone else in the house and they said he left at the weekend and didn’t provide a forwarding address; but they thought he returned to South Africa.

This guy didn’t know why, but he said someone else in the house said the police had been there looking for Hans.

The police? What would the Met want with Hans?

I still don’t know don’t know the answer to that one. It’s all a big mystery! He was a decent guy; I just hope he is OK.

I saw Elvis last week to score some more charlie, as I’m really going through the stuff quickly lately.

I’ve even been having the odd line with my morning coffee recently, just to give me a bit of a boost at the start of my day. Nothing seems to cut through a bad hangover like a bit of cocaine; it clears the fog from my head quickly and effectively.

I love the stuff so much; it’s not funny! I find myself thinking about it all the time, even at work, so I’ve been doing it there too.

It mixes so well with alcohol, I can drink for England if I’ve got a bit of coke to go with it!

I finally put “Wheeler” the office dealer in touch with Elvis; Elvis was happy for me to make the introduction.

I did tell Elvis that “Wheeler” was just a kid and not to give him a hard time, which I guess is about all I can do. I’ve also told “Wheeler” to treat Elvis with a lot of respect. It’s out of my hands now, so I hope they get on and there’s never any trouble. I don’t want that on my conscience!

“Wheeler” was thrilled; after they met up, he had nothing but praise for Elvis and his “product”.

I thought “product” was an interesting choice of words and it got me thinking, cocaine is a product, it just happens to be illegal right now. It’s manufactured and marketed just like any other “product”; those involved in the distribution are like any other business. They want the best wholesale prices, reasonable mark-ups and a faithful client base.

As a salesman at heart, I certainly can appreciate that!

Elvis visited me last Friday night; he came to the flat to drop off my purchase. It was the usual; pay for six grams, receive seven. It’s a real bargain and worth the three hundred quid I pay for it.

Elvis wanted to know what I thought of Nikolina, the Bulgarian whore he sent to see me a couple of weeks ago.

I told him how much I enjoyed her and in truth, I did. She was hot, she was horny and she was enthusiastic; what was not to like?

Elvis’s follow-up question was a simple one; why haven’t I asked him “for another one of his Bulgarian whores?”

The answer was simple; I haven’t had the time.

I told him I would like to see another one, this Saturday night. He told me I’d have to pay this time.

That’s not a problem; I don’t mind paying for it. Nikolina was a freebie and I don’t get many of them with prossies, do I?

He said he had another girl in mind for me this Saturday, younger, prettier and sexier. It sounds good to me already!

I’ve booked a two-hour session for the reasonable price of two hundred quid, which is what I would expect to pay for a hot eastern European escort from my whore website, so it’s fine.

I decided to give the pre-orgasmic women one last go and I saw three of them last week, which I know contradicts my “two per week” rule, but fuck it, rules are made to be broken!

I was far more cautious and deliberate in my choice of women to “help” this time and the additional effort did pay off.

Instead of working through all the email replies to my advert in chronological order as I’ve been doing, I looked for the replies that “felt right” to me.

What’s the point of having the best discreet judgement on the planet if I don’t use it and trust it when I need to?

I know it’s probably a bit dull to keep explaining what I get up to with the pre-orgasmic women, so I’ll spare you the full details and just stick to the statistics.

Of three women I met, one of the paid me and I kept it, two of them received refunds and all three of them had countless screamingly intense orgasms.

When you’re good at something, when you have a natural talent, it should be encouraged. I have a talent, a knack, an inherent skill for licking clits and making women cum.

Think of it as my “raison d'être”; I certainly do.

I might even have a follow-up session with one of them, as she’s emailed seeking a return engagement.

It would be cruel to deny her what she wants; what she needs: The full discreetlondon treatment, again and again!

I phoned my solicitor for some legal advice last week, which I’ve since followed.

I brought him up to speed on the paternity saga and he suggested I write to my soon-to-be-ex, stating my position, so there are no doubts or questions. Along with my letter, I enclosed a photocopy of the DNA test results.

Basically, I told her that as I was not her child’s father, my responsibilities, financial or otherwise were now nil.

Further to that, I’ve cancelled my standing order with my bank. More importantly, I’ve advised my ex-wife that if she doesn’t apply for the “decree absolute” within the next fortnight, I would instruct my solicitor to initiate the second, final phase of the divorce.

I wish someone had told me this was an option months ago; I thought only she could do it!

I want this marriage ended once and for all. I want nothing more to do with her. I want my unconditional freedom!

So far, I haven’t had any response back from her; not a peep, but it’s only been a few days.

I meant what I said, if she doesn’t file for the final paperwork, I will.

I’ve had enough!

The most disturbing thing to happen in the last week is something I still haven’t got my head around. It concerns my personal assistant, Terry.

I’m really not sure what to do about it.

Terry was my predecessor’s PA and I inherited him when I took the job, so he wasn’t my choice.

That said, he’s very good at keeping things moving and sometimes I think he runs the department on a day-to-day basis far more than I do.

I depend on him for so much in the office; I don’t know what I’m going to do without him, if I sack him, which is what I very well may do. I don’t think I have a choice.

Allow me to explain; a few weeks ago, I suggested that we do some free work for an AIDS charity and he was very excited by this. He practically beamed at me.

Then, a couple of weeks ago, at his birthday lunch, he said something to me that made me think his interest in me was more than professional and that perhaps he had the wrong idea about me.

Terry’s very obviously gay and I’m very obviously not and that’s normally not an issue for me. After what happened last week, I think I have a big and serious problem with him.

I had a long, liquid lunch one day last week and I was also a bit coked up; it’s a combination that leaves me pissing frequently. I had to make several visits to the men’s room that afternoon.

During one of these trips to the loo, my last trip, while pissing into a urinal, Terry came in and stepped up to the one adjacent to me.

And then, it happened. I caught him staring at my cock; really taking a long look at my package. And what’s worse is when I caught him doing this, he looked up and grinned at me; leered really.

It made me feel really uncomfortable, perhaps a little violated as well.

It was a very awkward moment. I didn’t use the men’s room again on my floor that day and have avoided it as much as possible ever since. I don’t want a repeat of this.

What I haven’t done is confront Terry and I don’t know if I even will.

What would I say? “I don’t mind a quick glance at my todger matie, but staring and drooling over it is only going to get you a punch in the face!”

I don’t think so.

I tried to convince myself that I imagined it all, that I’m being paranoid or oversensitive because of his sexual orientation, but I’m not.

I’m certain that this really happened and my gay personal assistant has a crush on me! I can’t think of a worse situation to be in.

I think I’ve already made up my mind; I know what I need to do.

I’m going to have to let him go.

I’ve got a meeting with the Human Resources manager tomorrow to discuss the situation. I’m hoping I can sack Terry without too much hassle and then the real fun begins, finding his replacement!

I can promise you right now, my next secretary will not be a man; gay or otherwise. I’m going to hire the hottest, easiest, most qualified woman I can find!

Speaking of hot women in my office, I’ve rescheduled my trip to B’rum with “Jenny” for next week and I am really looking forward to it.

All this anticipation and waiting is making me want her all that much more, which I didn’t think was possible.

She’s offered to make the travel arrangements and from the sly wink she gave me, I have a feeling she’s booked us a suite to share, rather than two separate rooms. It’s probably wishful thinking.

I might have even suggested this to her.

Ok, I did suggest it, in a semi-joking, semi-serious sort of way, but the final decision will be down to “Jenny”. I’m hoping she’ll take the hint!

Perhaps I should have jumped on “Jenny” back when I had the chance, while she was competing with “Ginny” for that promotion. It’s easy to second-guess yourself, but I have to stand by my decision.

I had another chance when we were in Manchester a month or so ago, but “Jenny” ended up shagging our client instead.

Next week, I’ve just got to have her! I can’t leave it to chance this time!

All the news from this point is good; very good actually.

I’ve been corresponding with one of my many fans recently and she sounds so hot and so sexy that I’m considering breaking my longstanding rule of not meeting women who contact me via this blog!

She’s also in London, twenty-five years old and I get a real sense that she understands me better than any woman I’ve ever known.

I guess she does know me better than most women, because she is such a dedicated follower of my blog! She seems to be able to quote my writing back to me better than I can quote it myself!

She understands my sexual needs and all my wicked desires completely.

She is bisexual herself, so she would be happy to share me and be shared with other women. She’s even interested in sharing whores with me!

She also says she likes a bit of charlie and she says she loves the idea of me taking a double dose of Erectalis for the sole purpose of endlessly rodgering her senseless!

She sounds like she’s really my kind of gal!

I’m very tempted to arrange to see her this weekend.

At this point, I don’t know if I can stop myself!

The other thing about her I like is that I am convinced she is not a reporter trying to identify me.

I’m always suspicious when women contact me after reading my blog, but with good reason. Others have tried to fool me in the past, but this time I’m fairly certain she is as genuine as she seems.

Again, I need to trust my discreet intuition; and that little light in my head is blinking bright green for GO!

The other thing about her that has me enamoured is how wonderful she’s been throughout my ordeal with the paternity of my wife’s daughter. It’s really been a blessing for me.

It also didn’t hurt that she’s sent me lots of photos of herself that she’s taken especially for me. I like the personal touch; and I like it in person even more!

I’ve had other fans taken an interest in my life, but when they realise they can’t ever meet me, they fade away. It’s different, with this new one.

Mainly, I think we are both on the same wavelength; we see things in a similar light. If we do meet, and the more I think about it, the more I know that we will; we are just going to click.

She’s been asking me to ring her at home and already sent me her number. I think I’m going to phone her this evening, after work when I get home.

This one could be very good!

But that’s not even the best news, which I’ve saved for last.

It’s actually the most amazing news that I could possibly hope for and it’s something I’ve wanted for a very long time.

Even stranger is you will never guess who it came from!

Doug!

Yes, Doug!

Maybe he’s not the media twat I was starting to believe he was.

Ok, maybe he is, but he’s actually managed to sort something out for my first blog!

“discreetlondon: the secret internet diary of an unfaithful husband” is going to be available in print very soon and I expect all of you to order your own copy when it’s published! I’m counting on it!

It seems like it’s taken forever to get to this point, but I’ve finally made it. Quite frankly, it’s about bloody time!

Doug is hoping that it will be available around the first of May and as soon as it is, I’ll post the details here.

I’m going to post them everywhere!

If it all comes together as outlined, you should even be able to order it from Amazon, which is “amazonazing!”

It may seem strange to you that I am so excited about my first blog being turned into a book, since my real name won’t actually appear anywhere on the cover, but to me it doesn’t matter. I actually don’t care about having my real name on it. I’ll know that I am going to be a published author and that’s what really counts.

I had just about given up on Doug doing anything for me and lo and behold, he pulls this miracle out of thin air and so quickly too.

Actually I have known about this for possibility for a couple of weeks, but didn’t want to mention it here on the blog until it was a certainty.

At this point, the publication of the book is definite and if everything stays on schedule, the release date shouldn’t change either.

Within a fortnight, I should see the first test printing and once I approve it, we should be on target for the first of May.

Doug and I have agreed a split of the profits and he was quite reasonable in the end over his share. He still thinks the real market for my story is a television series, but that’s because his experience is mainly in that medium.

He also says that’s where the real money is, but if that were true, wouldn’t Doug dress better? Whenever I see him, he always looks a bit like a tramp.

I know what I’ll do; I’ll buy him a sharp suite with my first royalty cheque. That is, if there is a first royalty cheque!

The one thing that may disappoint you all is that I won’t be making any public appearances in your local bookshops.

I’m sorry, but how could I possibly sign autographs in public while remaining anonymous?

The short answer is; I can’t.

There won’t even be a photo of me on the back cover, even though it was suggested. We’ve settled on a silhouette of me instead.

If anyone out there thinks I’m ever going to be identified as the author of this blog, you must be even crazier than Nharls Berkley!

I’m going to remain anonymous in perpetuity and that means forever!

Sparks fly

2006-04-05T00:40:00.000+01:00

I confronted my wife last week.

I didn't mean to; it wasn't planned, it just happened.

That's a big part of the reason this post is so late; I knew when I sat down to work on this entry, I was going to have to write about what happened.

How could I not?

I guess I just wanted to put it off as long as I can.

I recently did a secret DNA test on my wife’s daughter, because I had some lingering doubts that I wasn’t her father.

I was right; my worst fears were confirmed.

My wife wasn’t aware that I had the test done; I just had to know the truth. Until last week, I hadn’t mentioned this vital fact to my now, very soon to be, ex-wife.

It didn’t start out like this. When she first discovered she was pregnant, I was over the moon. That didn’t last long.

Then, when I discovered she was cheating on me, she told me the child was probably her (now former) partner’s.

After that, she left me for him.

Then when the child was born, not looking like him, as he’s Asian, she told me, again, that the child was mine.

All along, she must have known that paternity actually belonged to a third, mystery man, but she let me believe I was the father!

If that’s not just down right spiteful and vindictive, I don’t know what is!

My wife wanted me to take her daughter the weekend before last, as she had some sort of social plans. I’ve had her little girl for weekends before, but that was when I thought she was my daughter too.

Now that I know the truth, well, there was no way in hell I was going to do it!

When my wife phoned me last week, she was very insistent that I baby-sit and the more I refused, the more persistent she became.

She kept badgering me about why I wouldn’t do it. She wanted to know if I had other plans. She wanted to know why I was being difficult.

I stayed quiet.

Then on Friday evening, my wife appeared at my flat, unannounced and unexpectedly, with the baby in tow. This really caught me by surprise.

I had a relatively quiet night planned that Friday. I had quite a busy week already; I’d been out a couple of times during the week as well as doing a bit of discreet entertaining at home. I just wanted to take it easy; have a couple of whiskeys, a couple of lines and maybe a film on TV, nothing more than that. I just needed to relax a bit.

I had to let them inside; I didn’t really have a choice. Once she was in my flat, my wife started laying into me straight away.

She talked about how much she needed a break, how she wanted to “go out with the girls” on Saturday night and just a general whinge on the demands of motherhood.

I kept my cool.

Then, my wife said something that set me off; she pushed the wrong button.

What she said was this: “Can’t you see how much your daughter misses you?”

That was all it took. I blew and blew big; I totally lost it.

This wasn’t the way I wanted to deal with it.

That’s a partial lie; I didn’t want to be dealing with it at all. I wasn’t ready, I hadn’t fully thought through what I wanted to say or even the outcome I was aiming for.

Well, it’s too late now. I just spit it out.

I shouted, “Ha, ‘my daughter’, that’s a fucking joke. You know damn well she’s not mine, don’t you? You’ve known all along, haven’t you?”

She denied it, of course, which was to be expected, especially since she wasn’t aware of the paternity test.

She asked me where this was coming from and then put on her wounded, “how could you even think this” face as she piled one lie on top of another.

She said I was being irrational. She said I was crazy.

She was right; I was crazy. I was crazy with rage, pain and bitter disappointment.

My wife knew how much I’ve always wanted to be a father. She also knew how much it meant to me when she changed her story and said I was the child’s father after all.

And all along, she knew it was just lies and deceit!

I told her, I knew the truth. I told her I had no doubts that she wasn’t mine. I told her in no uncertain terms that her evil little game was over.

At about this point, because our voices were raised, the baby started crying, really bawling like only a seven-month-old could.

My wife continued to lie; she insisted that I was the little girl’s father and no amount of certainty from me would get her to admit the truth.

Until, I dropped the bomb.

I told her that I had a DNA test done.

She wasn’t expecting that.

I told her the test proved, with 99.9% accuracy that there’s no chance I could be that little girl’s father.

That shut the bitch up, for moment anyway.

She asked me in hushed tones, if I really did this.

I told her again, that I did.

I quickly found the letter from the lab with the results and thrust it into her hands. I watched as her eyes darted across the page, once, twice, three times. I saw the expression on her face change.

Now it was her turn to get angry.

“How could you?” she asked.

“How could you?” I replied. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

She didn’t answer; she couldn’t answer.

We argued a bit more; I told her I was cancelling the standing order with my bank that covered the child support. That didn’t impress her.

I also demanded that she finally file for the “decree absolute” and once that was issued, we were finished.

Done. Over. Forever.

Then I asked her to leave. I told her not to come back.

As she was leaving and the baby was in my ex-wife’s arms, I took one last look at the little girl who was very nearly my daughter.

Our eyes met and I swear I caught a look of recognition. Maybe I just imagined it.

It broke my heart into a million tiny pieces.

It doesn’t get any “realer” than that moment. I knew in that instant that I would probably never see that child again.

I didn’t cry, I didn’t even well up. I think I was just numb.

I still am.

When I went to work on the Monday morning, following all of this, I did something I should have done as soon as I received the DNA test results. I removed from my desk, the framed photo of the baby that my wife gave me for Christmas. I just couldn’t bear to sit there all day and stare at it any longer.

So that’s pretty much it; it’s all finally out in the open, dealt with and finished. I don’t think I’ve got anything else to say on the subject.

In other DL news…

I think I’m getting bored with all these pre-orgasmic women already.

Now that I’ve seen five of them, I’m finding it just a bit routine and rehearsed. I haven’t arranged to meet any more of them since last week.

Also, two of the five weren’t particularly pleasant experiences for me and the standard of woman has certainly dropped from the first two I wrote about last time.

Now, I love women, all women, any woman, but at least they should be clean. I won’t go into any more detail than that, just to say that one of the pre-orgasmic women I met could have done with better hygiene and leave it at that.

The other one that I didn’t enjoy meeting had more to do with her attitude and personality than anything else. She was a right demanding, pushy, mouthy bitch!

Plus she really fancied herself, which made it even worse and if I’m honest, she wouldn’t have ever fallen into that category I call “second-lookers”. She was barely a first-looker, but she was well dressed, well manicured and coiffured. She looked like she had lots of money.

She did, she told me so. She said she had some shit-hot job in the city as a senior something or other. She also had a Jag with a driver waiting for her outside, or so she claimed. She seemed like she was in a hurry from the moment she arrived.

I started to give her my pre-amble and she cut me off. She told me she just wanted me to make her cum and if I could do it, she’d pay me double. DL doesn’t shy away from a challenge; the extra financial incentive was meaningless.

I instructed her to go into my bedroom and change into the robe I laid out for her. I didn’t buy an extra robe especially for the pre-orgasmic women; it’s for any woman who visits really. I bought it not long after I rented this flat. I tried to find one that would match my charcoal grey robe, but I couldn’t find a woman’s style in that colour, so it’s just a simple white one made of towelling material.

I was giving her a few minutes to make herself comfortable when madam shouted from the bedroom, announcing she was ready and summoning me to join her.

When I walked into the bedroom, I found madam already on the bed, her legs wide open; the robe on but not wrapped around her. She impatiently told me to “get on with it” and that’s precisely what I did.

I gave her the full discreetlondon treatment.

I gave her double the full discreetlondon treatment.

I gave her the full discreetlondon treatment with fucking bells on.

Nothing.

That’s right, I couldn’t make her cum.

No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried; I could not get this woman to have an orgasm!

I think this was a first for me.

Actually, I know it is.

What’s worse is she was trying to instruct me on technique, speed, pressure, you name it! As if I need any coaching! Ha!

This woman couldn’t cum if her life depended on it. She told me she’d never had an orgasm in her life. After spending a little time with her, this didn’t surprise me. Talk about uptight!

I gave her the money back, it was only right, even though she was really hard work. She was way too much effort for way too little in return. I definitely won’t be seeing her again.

Hopefully madam is the first, only and last non-orgasmic woman I’ll ever meet!

The other one I met was much like the very first one, grateful, horny and up for more than just her orgasms. She got a refund too, but for a much more pleasant and spunky reason!

The one that needed a wash, well, I kept her money. It wasn’t enough, not even by half! I think I’ll just consider it hazard pay!

I was supposed to see my mate Bob last week, but he cancelled at the last minute. Why? He went off to Paris again with his woman, the one I thought he was backing away from. Go figure!

Elvis rang me up last week and as promised, offered to send me one of his Bulgarian whores.

I wasn’t so sure about this, but Elvis insisted; he even said the first date would be free. I couldn’t bloody well argue with that, could I?

We arranged for one of his girls to visit me the following night. It was last Wednesday, when Nikolina came to see me.

I was pleasantly surprised when I greeted her at my front door. She was tall, nearly six foot in her stilettos; with long blonde hair, green eyes and a fantastic body. She had a genuine, friendly smile and a naughty glint in her eye as I invited her inside. Under her long coat, she was wearing a tight print dress, which hugged her figure.

I asked her to sit down and offered her a drink. She asked for a neat vodka. I also offered her some charlie, but she declined, saying she never touched the stuff and it was bad for you.

Well, it’s not bad for me! I don’t know what I would do without it! And I don’t know what I would do without the Erectalis! I swallowed two of them before Nikolina arrived and it’s a good thing I did! It was a strenuous workout for both of us!

I mean me and my cock!

I got the vodka from the deep-freeze plus a couple of shot glasses and joined Nikolina on the sofa. She told me that Elvis had instructed her to be extra nice to me, since I was a good friend of his.

A good friend! Ha! More like just a good customer!

Still, I shouldn’t complain, Nikolina was hotter than hot and very experienced! I had a great time with her.

She stayed for a couple of hours and we did it all, even anal. Nikolina insisted, she said she wanted to make sure I told Elvis that she took very good care of me.

I told him she was perfect and the next time I was in the market for a whore, whenever that may be, I would give him a call for one of his Bulgarians.

What I didn’t tell him is I book a whore around once a week, but I like to find them online, where I can see their photographs and choose them that way.

Perhaps if Elvis had his Bulgarian whores on a website, I would be more tempted to use them. Maybe I should suggest it to him.

Even better, I could get one of the designers at work to knock together a quick website for him, as a way of saying “thanks” for the free session with Nikolina.

That wouldn’t be very discreet, would it?

Imagine if I asked one of the html-monkeys to do me an escort website, for my friend, the coke dealer and pimp who’s running a string of Bulgarian whores here in London.

I wonder if they would even believe me.

“Wheeler” keeps asking me to introduce him to Elvis, but I haven’t really wanted to.

“Wheeler” is just a kid and not a very bright one at that. I’m smart enough to handle a sharp guy like Elvis, I doubt my mate “Wheeler” would be as adapt.

The other side of this is “Wheeler” is a grown man, capable of making his own decisions, so who am I to be deciding what’s right for him and what’s not?

Besides, if nothing else, I know Elvis’s coke is very good; much better than “Wheeler’s” current source. I’d be doing not only “Wheeler” a big favour, but a big favour for all of his punters in my office.

I think I’m leaning towards making the introduction and then staying out of it. That would probably be the most prudent option.

My other mate at work, Hans is still in a funk. I’ve even stopped trying to bring him out of his blue mood. I say hello to him in the morning and goodbye when I go and that’s pretty much it. I still don’t really understand what’s going on with him.

Anyone can be a mystery, if they choose to be.

It was my assistant, Terry’s birthday last week and I took him out to lunch, along with a few of the other girls from the office, including “Ginny” and “Jenny”. We went to an upmarket restaurant of Terry’s choosing; it was actually a bit too posh for my liking.

“Jenny” sat right next to me, with Terry on my other side; “Ginny” tried to be as invisible as ever.

Don’t worry, I put this lunch on my expenses; it was only fair, since there were only company employees dining with us!

It was an OK lunch, the food was acceptable if a little too fancy and the conversation was a bit girly for me. That meant I was a lot quieter than usual.

There was one awkward moment that left me wishing I had kept even quieter.

I was trying to steer the conversation into another direction, any other direction and we started talking about different television programs we liked and I made a joke I wish I’d kept to myself.

I said something about a show I used to watch that was broadcast late at night on Channel Four, called “Oz”.

It was an American prison drama, very gritty, graphic and realistic and I said something about how much I enjoyed it, though there was a “bit too much male rape in it for my tastes”.

Terry touched my arm and said. “ooh, I know what you mean, that show was so much more romantic when the sex was consensual.” All the girls at the table laughed.

They were laughing at me and that wasn’t even what I meant! I was a bit embarrassed, but the moment eventually passed.

A few weeks ago, Terry seemed really impressed that I suggested we find an AIDS charity to donate our services to; last week he made this comment. I’m starting to wonder what he’s thinking.

The other bit of news I’ve got is actually non-news; my trip to Birmingham with “Jenny” has been postponed for a little while. I was really looking forward to this little jaunt to the Midlands and the discreet opportunity I would have with “Jenny”. I’m patient, another week or two won’t matter!

Of all the women I know and have had recently, “Jenny” is probably the one I want the most and haven’t had the pleasure of having.

I’m also still sniffing around on that dating website, though because my mood has been a little low, I haven’t really pushed that hard.

I’ve got my website whores, all those pre-orgasmic women plus my dating website women, so I do indeed have plenty of sources for action right now. I just need to kick it all back into high gear again!

I’m sorry this entry was so long in coming and I’m also sorry it’s not up to my usual discreet standards. I guess with everything that’s happened recently, I’m just not feeling myself.

It won’t last; I’ll be back on form in no time. I’ll be ready to start enjoying life again very soon I’m sure. From this point on, I’m going to make sure that everything in my life is on the up again!

The truth about men (especially for women)

2006-03-14T10:03:00.000Z

Normally, when I write an entry, the last thing I come up with is the title, but not this time.

The first thing that came to me this week was the title that you see above.

This title is actually a new idea I have for my very own newspaper or magazine column.

Allow me to explain.

Another journalist interviewed me last week for a magazine article on craigslist and the NSA sex scene.

This wasn’t the first time I’d been interviewed because of my reputation as a blogger and serial shagger, but last time, well, it didn’t turn out to be a good experience for me.

This reporter told me that his story would be published in an upmarket magazine in a couple of months. Don’t worry; when it hits the newsagents, I’ll be letting you all know so you can buy your own copies!

He also told me it wouldn’t be published online, so you’ll have to buy one if you want to read it.

This journalist seemed like a really nice guy, unlike the woman who interviewed me about a year ago. He had no interest in trying to track me down or identifying me, so I was comfortable with his questions.

After the interview was finished, I got to quiz him a bit about my future in the media and he gave me some very useful advice.

He also got me thinking about different avenues I could take to achieve my own anonymous fame. One thought I had, which he inspired, stood out.

Rather than trying to become an “agony uncle” for married men who want to cheat, I should become an “agony uncle” for women who want to understand the complexities of the male mind.

Who better than me to provide women with an honest, truthful and genuine insight into the mind of a normal man?

No one!

Imagine if I had my own monthly section in Cosmopolitan Magazine!

I think that’s the one, a really classy women’s magazine and I would be perfect for it! My wife used to read it, maybe she still does. It’s upmarket, would pay very well and I’m sure they would appreciate my discreet mind, as it applied to unveiling the secrets of normal men!

Now one question…do any of you, my fans, know anyone who works at Cosmo? Please email if you do, because I’ll need an insider connection to make this work.

I asked Doug about it, but he’s useless. He says all his “contacts” are in television, not that it’s done me any good so far! He claims he’s on the verge of some “very good news”. I’ll believe it when I see it!

I finally managed to acknowledge all of the respondents to my “help for pre-orgasmic women” advert, as well as exchanging emails with quite a few of them. I also got around to meeting my first two “candidates”.

It’s working out even better than I could have ever hoped! Result!

And to the gentleman out there, who I can only assume is one of my many fans, who did the “cut and paste” job on this particular advert within twenty-four hours of my last posting:

Sorry mate, but I couldn’t resist warning as many of the women as possible who emailed in response to my advert that there were far less qualified imitators online trying to pretend they have my skills.

I told them all to accept no substitute for what only I can provide!

Never forget, I am the king and master of craigslist and Gumtree and no one will ever put one over on me; nor will I allow anyone to do better than me!

It’s bad enough there’s now hundreds of guys using my old favourite “oral sex for any woman in need’! See for yourself, if you don’t believe me!

Yes, I’m greedy, but I’m also a guaranteed good time; once you’ve had the full discreetlondon treatment, you’re pretty much ruined for other men.

I’m finding my dealings with these “pre-orgasmic” women very amusing, but I’ve been able to handle all of their questions for the most part.

The one that surprised me the most is this: “how much do you charge?”

I’ve got to be honest, it never occurred to me that anyone would offer to pay me for orgasm lessons, so I was taken aback the first time it was mentioned.

Then I realised why; I placed the advert in the “erotic services” section of craigslist! Of course they expect me to charge!

I told the first woman who asked, I wanted fifty quid a session. She said it seemed quite cheap and booked an appointment straightaway.

I told the next woman who asked that it would cost one hundred quid per session and she said it was too expensive and didn’t arrange to see me.

The third woman who asked was informed it cost seventy-five pounds per session and she didn’t comment on the price. I now understood what the market could handle and the price was set!

The other question I got asked required more finesse with the answer.

Some of the women wanted to know if I got aroused when I helped them.

I didn’t lie; I said it happened. Of course it does, but I didn’t let them know it would happen every time!

Some asked if I ever ended up having sex with my clients. I told them it was against my rules, but sometimes rules get broken. If it happens, even though it shouldn’t, then the session is free.

They all seemed to like this response, but probably not as much as I did.

Let’s look at this from my point of view.

A woman gives me seventy-five quid to help her learn to get off. I can watch her play with herself or better yet, I could finger her, lick her and make cum and I get to keep the money.

If we get carried away and I cum too, she gets a full refund.

Either way, I win!

Result!

I’ve impressed upon all my prospective clients how in-demand my services are in an attempt to separate the time wasters from the genuine. Last week, I met my first two “clients” on two different evenings.

The first woman seemed very eager to get started. She said she’d always had trouble reaching orgasm and was interested in learning anything that might make it easier for her to cum. She was the one who paid fifty.

Yes, she really paid me, but I did end up refunding her the money because she blew me. The only place a BJ is cheaper than fifty quid is on the street and I’ve given up taking those sorts of risks!

She was in her early-mid thirties, attractive, if a little bookish. Her story was simple, she was with a long-term boyfriend for years, had a reasonable if slightly dull sex life with him. Now that she’s single again, she’s finding it difficult, if not impossible to climax with new partners.

Sounds like a job for super DL!

I found all that out while I was taking her sexual history. I didn’t take notes or anything like that, but I did listen carefully. To me, it sounded like she lacked the confidence and self assuredness needed to let go enough to cum in front of a stranger.

I told her she needed to be selfish, not to worry how long it takes. I told her the truth; that all women have the ability to cum anytime they want, any way they want, with anyone they want!

I told her she was the only thing holding her orgasms back and once she could just let go, she’d cum like the fireworks on Bonfire Night!

She was sceptical at first, but I told her I could make her a believer. I explained that normally I let a woman pleasure herself the first time we meet, but since she could already achieve orgasm this way, we would move straight onto level two.

I instructed her to go into my bedroom and undress, and then put on the robe that was laid out on my bed. She did.

I gave her a few minutes to change before I joined her. I stood near the bed and instructed her to lay down on her back, with her head on the pillows. Once she was comfortable, I told her to close her eyes.

I spoke very slowly, clearly and in a steady rhythm. I told her to take a deep breath, hold it for a few seconds, and then exhale. I had her do this several times. I kept speaking to her, telling her to relax her muscles, starting with her feet and working all the way up her body.

I could see from the way her chest was moving that her breathing was deep and regular and she was very relaxed. I told her to part her legs open, wide and then I climbed onto the bed between them.

I brushed my lips against her inner thighs, one at a time, letting my hot breath lap at her flesh. Slowly, I brought my lips to her intimate lips and gave her a delicate kiss. She shuddered expectantly, but I took my time.

I let my tongue probe gently around her labia; I flicked her clit ever so lightly. I teased and tormented her with my tongue until I could sense she could take no more. I started giving her clit proper attention; steady even strokes and she pressed herself hard against my face.

I was going at it right and proper now, really giving it to her good and I could tell she was enjoying it. I could feel the tension building inside her and I knew if I continued, she would orgasm.

I didn’t let up or break the pace, I kept going until she was pushing my head down hard between her legs and screaming “yes, God, yes.”

So now I’m God?

Still, I didn’t stop and I ended up bring her off two more times. She collapsed back on the bed, exhausted and satisfied.

By now, my cock was hard, thumping and throbbing like mad. It was straining against the fabric of my trousers. She saw this and reached out and stroked it through the fabric, before tugging at my flies.

I quickly undid my trousers and pulled them down; my cock was standing full at attention. She sat up then bent over and took it in her mouth; trying to get as much as she could down her throat.

I knew I wasn’t going to last long and I even said, “Look out” but she didn’t stop. She took every last drop.

She asked if she could use the loo to freshen up and she took her clothing with her. When she returned, she was dressed and so was I. I gave her back her money and sent her on her way!

Everybody wins!

The next night, the second woman came over for my special treatment.

To be honest, the routine I used was nearly the same as the first; only this time, I kept the money. Trust me, I earned it!

It wasn’t that she was unattractive, because actually, she was quite hot. This session was simply emotionally draining.

When this one came, while I was going down on her, she burst out crying. I mean really crying, hard, uncontrollable tears and she didn’t stop for ages.

I ended up having to hold her in my arms until she calmed down. She would start to catch her breath, and then try to say something, and then burst out crying all over again! It was really doing my head in!

When she finally had the tears to a minimum and caught her breath, she said what she was trying to say: “that was my first real orgasm.”

Blimey! What do you say to that? Congratulations? Well done you!

I made a mental note right then and there not to see this one again!

Sure, I was turned on, but I was not going to any further with her. I told her now that she had this break through; it was up to her to keep the momentum going with other partners. She seemed to take that on board.

If only I had more time, I could do this practically every night! It’s like shooting fish in a barrel! I’ve decided I’m not going to go mad with this though; I’ve set a self-imposed limit of only two “pre-orgasmic” women per week. It’s not like it’s my only source of pussy right now, just the easiest!

Sometimes my discreet mind even outdoes itself!

“Wheeler” dropped by my office last week to see if I wanted to buy any of his charlie. He was quite disappointed to hear that my old source had returned.

I was honest with him; I told him Elvis’s stuff is just better. I didn’t tell him that Elvis is also scarier!

To show him what I meant, I laid out a couple of lines on my desk and let him try it. I had some myself, but then a little mid-day booster is becoming a bit of a habit with me! I do love to party day and night and this stuff just agrees with me!

“Wheeler” was impressed with the quality; he could tell right away it was good stuff. He even asked if he could meet “my guy”.

That’s a tough one, “Wheeler’s” just a kid and I don’t know if I should be responsible for getting him mixed up with someone like Elvis. I’m still thinking about this one.

Otherwise, last week was unremarkably dull at work. “Ginny” is still working on her mass market, website sales plan. “Jenny” is still brightening up every room she enters!

“Hans” has been quite withdrawn for the last few weeks, ever since his big date with the coffee cart girl. She’s long gone and I still don’t know what happened to her.

I’ve tried to draw “Hans” out a bit, but he always seems distracted. I’ve even invited him out for a beer a couple of times, but he’s declined each and every invite. How long can a guy pine after one woman? There’s plenty more hotties out there, he should just move on!

It looks like I’ve got another business trip coming up next week. This time, and please don’t envy me, but its looking like I’m going to have a couple of days in Birmingham to see a client. I get all the plum ones!

I’m already planning on taking “Jenny” with me again as I’ve got some unfinished business of an intimate nature with this gorgeous woman! When I mentioned it to her, she gave me a big smile, so it’s not like she’s not up to the challenge!

My mate Bob, on the other hand, gets to travel all over Europe as part of his job. He’d just come back from Paris last week, again and we arranged to meet for dinner.

Things have cooled slightly with his rich lady friend, though the embers still seem to be smouldering. From what I could get out of Bob, it sounds like things were moving too quickly and he had to ease them back. That’s my boy!

Bob said I looked terrible, but that’s hardly surprising, what with all the shit going on with me. I’ve been sleeping badly, eating badly and drinking too much. If it wasn’t for the charlie, I don’t know how I would get through each day!

I told Bob about the results of the paternity test and he didn’t seem surprised. He told me not to worry about who the father really is; he said it shouldn’t matter, now that I know that she’s not mine.

He asked if I confronted my wife yet. I haven’t.

He asked me what I was going to do next.

Good question. I still don’t know.

I guess I’ve been waiting for the right opportunity, or maybe I’ve been avoiding falling into one. Maybe I should make my own and get it over with.

I can’t put it off forever. And I want that decree absolute, now more than ever!

Yes, I know what I need to do, but knowing it and doing it are two distinctly different things.

I’ve been putting more time into my legitimate dating site and I have to say the pace the “dating dance” is far too slow for my liking.

It seems like there’s got to be an endless exchange of emails, followed by lengthy and deep telephone conversations, before you can even think about meeting for a drink or dinner. What a waste of time!

I prefer the discreet and NSA route, which is far more direct and certainly faster. If I even so much as make a joke about “jumping into a minicab now” to any of these “dating site” women, it would be like throwing a cold bucket of water over their heads. The fact that it’s possible is of no interest to them; they’re all shopping for husbands, not hot sex!

Hot sex to them is just a tool to further their own devious plans to ensnare a man. At least, that’s the impression I’m getting. It’s all just so dishonest.

Ok, perhaps I’m feeling a bit jaded. A woman from the site has been jerking me around for nearly a fortnight, and at this point I’m just playing along out of curiosity. She’s 28, says she works in sales and from her photo; she looks quite hot.

Right away, when she said she worked in sales, I knew not to trust a word she said. I was right. We’ve been exchanging emails only, though she’s asked for my phone number and arranged to phone me several times. She hasn’t.

We’ve also talked about meeting up for a coffee, a drink, dinner; you name it. We haven’t.

I don’t really understand her game, unless it’s just that she can’t make up her mind or she likes to have lots of guys to choose from, or she can’t say “no” or she can’t say “yes” or she’s just mentally unstable!

I don’t know and at this point, I don’t’ care. I’m just going to see how long she can maintain this little game.

And if she ever really phones me or tries to meet me, I’ll be busy. It’s only fair!

I haven’t abandoned my other website, the one with all the independent escorts. At last count, there are 465 of them listed, within ten miles of my flat.

I feel like I’m working my way through all of them, one at a time!

This week’s interesting discovery is that some of the girls are running raffles for a pound a chance. The prize?

A night with them!

Every girl’s page has different sub-sections, which include their profile, public photo gallery, private photo gallery, video clips, interview (answers to a standard set of questions) and “for sale” items.

Not every girl has every section. The site charges users for access to the video and the private photos and the “for sale” items also cost money.

The “for sale” items can be anything, from used, worn knickers to full DVDs of the girl’s porn performances as well as virtual raffle tickets.

A pound for a chance to shag one of these ultra-hot whores is a real bargain and it works out for the girl too!

Suppose, for the sake of simple mathematics, a girl sells five thousand virtual tickets for a chance to have her for an entire night. That’s five thousand quid! If the girl normally charges between seven hundred and a thousand for a full night, that’s quite a mark-up!

One enterprising and particularly hot looking escort is raffling off her anal virginity for a fiver a chance. Even though I’m not a particularly big fan of this practise, even I briefly debated buying into this one!

The whore I met last week was particularly dirty. I can’t say if I had more time to plan or the selection was wider, that I would have chosen her, but I made the most it.

I always do.

It was quite late last Saturday night, after midnight and I had been partying all evening. I hadn’t really planned on hooking up with anyone and certainly had nothing even remotely set-up.

I spent an hour on a chatline for old times sake, but it was an hour that would have been better spent doing anything else. I think the era of chatline meetings has well and truly passed!

I logged onto my favourite website and searched for who was available there and then and the choice was indeed limited to around a dozen women still awake and plying their trade.

None of them stood out at first glance, so I evaluated each one on their relative merits before choosing “Amber”.

“Amber” was just nineteen but looked younger than her age. She said she was quite experienced and open-minded and her speciality was dressing up in her schoolgirl uniform and calling the punter “daddy”. She had twenty reviews, all positive and only charged £260 for a two-hour session.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, that DL said he was through with younger women. Yes, that’s true, but needs must and she really was the best one available at the time!

She telephoned me back quite quickly after I filled out the booking form and I arranged for her to come over straight away. She arrived around 45 minutes later, dressed in her school uniform, as advertised.

“Amber” was quite petite, about 5’4”, with short, flame red hair and she did look younger than her stated age of nineteen. I paid her upfront and we sat down together on my sofa.

I asked her if she wanted a drink or a line and she said, “Yes, please daddy” to both.

I got my bottle of Absolut out of the deep freeze and two shot glasses, and then poured some for us both. After that, I pulled a wrap from the pocket of my charcoal grey robe and laid out some thick lines for us to share.

“Amber” snorted up the charlie in record time, then downed her shot of vodka in one go. She liked to party too! I did the same and offered a second round of both and she said, “If you are daddy, then I will too.” We did.

After that, “Amber” climbed onto my lap and put her arms around my neck. Then she said, “Are you a good daddy or a bad daddy?”

I whispered “bad”.

“Amber” kissed me hard and giggled that she’s a “naughty daughter” who needed a spanking. She then bent over my knee and flipped her skirt up, so I could spank her pert little bottom.

I gave her a few firm strokes, before she said, “Oh daddy, I won’t ever do it again.”

By now, my cock was so hard; she could no doubt feel it pressing against her firm tits.

I’d taken two Erectalis before she arrived; I’ve needed to double dose with them lately to get the desired effect. I guess that’s what happens when you use them a lot, plus I think the charlie might have something to do with it. It doesn’t matter, since they are so easy for me to get!

“Amber” got on her knees in front of me and parted my robe, letting my cock spring up to full attention. She gripped the base with her tiny hand and then started sucking on it.

She asked, “if daddy liked that?”

Daddy did!

She sucked me off right then and there and I shot a full load straight down her throat.

Daddy was ready for more!

We moved into my bedroom and “Amber” stripped off completely, revealing a natural, yet tidy bush. She said we could do anything I like, but no anal, since my cock was too big for her! She did say I could stick my fingers up her bum though.

I’ve never been told I was “too big” before, so I was quite flattered and not bothered at all that I couldn’t fuck her ass. Her sweet wet pussy was going to be just fine!

I slipped off my robe and we got on the bed together. We embraced and kissed some more. I slipped my hand between her legs and probed her cunt. It was tight and wet and my fingers were drenched within seconds!

I played with her clit and got her moaning; her eyes were closed and she was grinding against my fingers hard. I had to taste her!

I slipped down between her legs and started licking her snatch. “Amber” seemed to be enjoying it and started chanting, “yes daddy, oh yes daddy” over and over.

She said she was about to cum and she then said, “fuck me daddy, fuck me now daddy, please daddy, fuck me!”

I got a Durex Performa from the bedside table and slipped it on my cock, then flipped her over on all fours, before ramming myself inside her as hard as I could! She gasped sharply as she took every inch.

I pumped her for all I was worth, she was shouting, “fuck me daddy, I need daddy to fuck me, fuck me harder daddy, please!” It only took me a few minutes before I let loose with another mind blowing orgasm.

We caught our breath and it wasn’t long before “Amber” started playing with my cock again, gently trying to coax it back to life.

It didn’t need much encouragement and was stiff again quite quickly.

I got another condom and put it on, while lying on my back. “Amber” straddled me and started to slowly ride my cock. Her strokes were deliberate and steady and at a snail’s pace. It felt so good!

She really took her time and on each downstroke she gave me a little squeeze with her muscles inside. The sensation was sensational!

“Amber” asked, “if daddy liked that?”

No, daddy didn’t like it. Daddy loved it!

Since I’d already popped twice, I was in no hurry and neither was “Amber”; she stayed atop my cock for ages and ages, just slowly fucking me. It was too good to be true!

After a while, she increased her pace and before long she was bouncing up and down on top of me as hard as her little body could manage and I started thrusting upwards, meeting her every stroke.

After such a long build up, when I finally came, it was massive and I might have blacked out briefly. Yes, it was that intense!

She asked to use my loo and brought her clothing with her. When she returned, I had my robe back on and she was fully dressed.

She asked if she could have another line and shot for the road. After all that, I was only too happy to oblige.

We sat together on the sofa, in near silence as I racked up the lines and poured the vodka. Naturally, I joined her. Once we were finished, I thanked her for the excellent evening and sent her on her way!

That punt was really hot, horny and kinky and I enjoyed it very much. Plus, it was value for money, two-hundred and sixty quid for three quality orgasms in two hours! Result!

After “Amber” left, I kept thinking about what we got up to, so much so that I had to wank twice just to get to sleep!

I can’t recommend this girl enough, she’s one of the best I’ve had from that site and in general the standard has been very high, so this is really saying something!

By far the weirdest thing to happen to me last week involved an evening spent with Elvis. Yes, an entire evening!

He came to see me last week so I could buy some coke. He was going on about how he wanted “no hard feelings” between us and suggested we go out for a drink together.

I didn’t feel like I could refuse, so I said “yes”.

Elvis asked if I had a favourite place and I jokingly suggested my lapdancing club. He said he was up for it and we hailed a black cab.

Elvis said he’d never been to this particular club, but told me he did like to go to them. He favours the smaller ones near the City, but I don’t really know them that well.

We went inside and Elvis bought the first round. We found a couple of hot dancers and invited them into the back, to one of the curtained alcoves.

We asked them to dance for us and they did. So far it was just a normal evening in the club. When they were finished, I paid them and we sent them on their way. We kept the curtains drawn so Elvis could lay out some coke on the table.

After that, we pulled the curtains back, flagged down a waitress and ordered more drinks. Elvis caught the eye of two more dancers and we asked them to join us.

When the waitress returned with our drinks, we asked the girls if they would like something and of course, they ordered champagne!

The waitress returned again with the girl’s drinks, then we pulled the curtain. Elvis offered the girls some charlie, one accepted, the other declined. After that, we asked them to dance for us.

They were both grinding on each of our laps, I had the girl who took the charlie, Elvis had the girl who didn’t. All of the sudden, Elvis’s girl started screaming and before I knew it a couple of bouncers had pulled the curtain back.

Elvis’s girl shouted that he had touched her ass. Elvis just shrugged his shoulders and smiled. The bouncers grabbed us both, pulled us roughly out of the booth and dragged us both out by the scruffs of our necks. It really was quite embarrassing!

Before I knew it, we were both out on the street. Elvis was laughing.

He said at the other clubs he goes to, “friendly touching” is expected.

I told him at this place, the only way to touch was to pay extra first. He laughed again.

He said, “Why didn’t you tell me you liked to pay? I have beautiful Bulgarian whores. I can send you one.”

Bulgarian whores? The mind boggles.

I told Elvis I would let him know, but he was insistent that I meet one of his Bulgarians. He said she was stunning and “could suck cock really good, so what’s the problem?”

I told him I’d ring him this week to sort something out. This ought to be fun!

Right now, everything is fun!

Every day and every night is just one long non-stop party and that’s just how I like it!

And for now, that’s just the way my life is going to stay!

Not my best week

2006-02-28T11:10:00.000Z

I’ve been putting off writing this entry for days. Normally I look forward to posting my latest escapades, but this hasn’t been a normal week.

Before I get started, there’s one thing I neglected to mention from a couple of weeks ago and that’s the result of my friend Hans’s date with “Cathy” the coffee cart woman.

The whole thing inadvertently slipped my mind and it was only because I twigged that I hadn’t seen “Cathy” recently, did I realise I forgot.

As you might recall, I’ve been coaching my friend Hans, the South African security guard in his pursuit of “Cathy”. She’s the Australian hottie who works on the coffee cart in the main reception of my office block. I helped Hans to secure a date with her and even purchased tickets to a sold-out concert that Hans knew she wanted to attend.

I wish I could tell you how it all worked out, but I can’t.

Hans has refused to tell me anything and has pretty much avoided the subject.

Quite frankly, I’m a bit put out that he won’t spill the beans, especially considering my rather deep and vicarious involvement in his chase. I guess he’s just a gentleman.

Even stranger though, is the fact that “Cathy” hasn’t worked on the coffee cart since just the before the concert. I didn’t know she was quitting and again, Hans won’t talk about it.

I’m guessing after the concert, they had one of those magic, romantic nights full of sustained, longing looks and probably some sort of sexual encounter that was more lovemaking than fucking.

After that, I reckon “Cathy” told Hans that she was leaving her job or maybe even returning to Australia. No wonder he’s not willing to tell me anything; he’s too cut up over it!

I’m hoping that it works out for him, though I still think he’s way too young for a serious relationship. And I hope he’s not thinking of trying to have a long-distance relationship with her; they never work out! Besides, there are so many hot, willing women in London that Hans should be out chasing them every night!

Now that’s out of the way, I can move onto the previous week or so.

Last Saturday week, I had one of the best punts I’ve had in a long time, thanks to my favourite website. I guess it’s not so new to me anymore.

I didn’t bother trying to find a woman through any other method; on Saturday night I went straight for the prossie option.

As you also might recall, I was waiting for the results of the paternity test when last I posted, but they didn’t arrive that week. Actually, they were in my letterbox last Tuesday, so the weekend before that; I needed a serious diversion.

I had visited “Wheeler” my office coke dealer on that Friday and I stocked up on some of his finest charlie. Actually, his stuff is not that fine, but it’s better than nothing.

I was fully expecting to arrive home that night to the awaiting envelope, as it didn’t come on the previous days. It wasn’t there. They kept me hanging a lot longer than I expected.

I could have gone to the pub on that Friday with some of my colleagues but I didn’t really feel that social. Naturally, no one in my office knows what I’m going through and as I plan on keeping it that way, I just went straight home.

I had some adverts running on craigslist and Gumtree, seeking someone for Friday night, but didn’t have any success. No luck at all, really.

I’ve since changed tack somewhat with my adverts and came up with a real winner that’s already yielded more replies than I’ve ever had before, but more on that development later.

On that Friday, I stayed up way too late, snorted way too much coke and drank far too much whiskey. The following day I slept very late and pretty much as soon as I woke up, I started scanning that website for a whore for that night.

I think I’m becoming more than obsessed with this particular website. I seem to check it daily, even when I’m not in the market for an escort. What can I say? I like to know who’s available; oh and I ordered a lot more Eretalis too.

Erectalis is fantastic; it’s my favourite penis pill on the market. It’s cheap, easy to get and extremely effective. I don’t think any other drug lasts as long; if I take one on a Saturday night, I’m still stiff come Monday morning. Yes, they are that good.

I must have looked at a couple of hundred listings before narrowing my search down to the women I would end up meeting that night.

And that wasn’t a typo; I meant it to be plural.

I do find it difficult to decide which one to meet since there are so many choices to be had. On that Saturday night, I was like a kid in a candy store and all the choccies looked too delectable to pick only one.

So do you know what I did? I went for a pair of women! Why not? I haven’t had the two-girl special in ages!

What I wanted; no strike that; what I needed that night was a debauched, discreetly dirty diversion and that’s precisely what I got!

I thought fuck it; let’s do this right, so I went for a two hour booking for a rather pricey four hundred quid. Trust me; it was worth every bloody pound I paid!

The girls, who were friends, advertised together, or rather they each had their own listing on the site, but they referenced each other and mentioned you could book them as a duo. Both of them included some “action” shots of the two of them together and they were so hot they probably could turn a gay man straight!

I should test this theory and show them to my personal assistant, Terry. Oh, that reminds me, I scored some serious points with him this week though it was purely unintentional.

The Creative Director organised one of his tedious “brain storming” sessions last week; this time to come up with some sort of clever plan to do some work for a charity.

Don’t think this was merely my firm trying to do a good deed; they had an ulterior motive: to raise our corporate profile.

Now, when we have a director’s meeting at my firm, it’s quite a big event. At least we pretend it is.

Everyone clears their schedule and we all hunker down in the main conference room and we sit around the big table. We bring two PA’s to take care of our every need, from coffees and pastries to photocopies and any other crappy little errand we can think of for them to do.

We rotate which PA’s attend and this time around, I had to contribute Terry to the proceedings. He didn’t mind, I think he likes it when it’s his turn as it gives him a chance to rub shoulders with the other directors and learn how the company runs. Well, he gets to pour their coffee, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

During the meeting, we were discussing various charities we could help out; our plan is to offer to revamp their website if they have one, create one if they don’t, then set it up so they could take donations online, that sort of thing. All we really needed was a worthy one to help.

Because of all my good work online regarding getting the “safe sex” message out, I casually made the suggestion that we should help out an AIDS charity. Knowing what you know about me, which is quite a bit really, this shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.

With the exception of one experience early on in my days as a cheater, I have been nearly religious about my use of condoms and that practise continues to this day.

I can’t stress the importance to all of you regarding “safe sex”, especially if you’re going to follow my example and live your own discreet life!

As I suggested this at the meeting, I caught an approving look from Terry. He actually seemed proud of me that I was his boss and it was me who came up with an idea that played on his interests. Bless!

Terry wasn’t the only one to think my idea was a winner, it was met with approval from all the directors seated around the conference table, including and especially, the MD.

The fact that they took my idea on board scored me some serious brownie points. So it was decided that we would try to find an AIDS charity that could use some “pro bono” help. Thanks to me, the meeting was a lot shorter than it could have been, so result!

Terry didn’t mention this again, but I could tell he was impressed with my progressive suggestion. What can I say? I’m a forward thinking kind of guy!

Since I was the one that got this particular ball rolling, hopefully my involvement in this project now will be minimal. I’ve got better things to do, like write in my blog!

Where was I? Oh yes, the two whores that came over last week!

They had a telephone number on their listing, a mobile, so I rang directly rather than booking them through the website. I actually got one of the girls; she answered her own phone!

The one I spoke to was Italian, but she spoke English well enough, though with a fairly noticeable accent. I told her how I found her number and what I was hoping to arrange and after a brief conversation, all was confirmed for eleven PM that night. Result!

Now, I should give you a description of these two hotties. As I just mentioned, one of them was Italian; not very tall, but with dusky, Mediterranean features, long dark hair, large firm breasts and a tight, shapely bottom. I’m going to call her “Venus”.

Her friend was from Lithuania, which used to be part of Russia I think, but I’m not sure. She was tall; much taller than “Venus” with long blonde hair, small, high breasts and a pert little bum perched on top of long, slim legs. I’ll call this one, “Katrina”.

“Venus” and “Katrina” arrived a few minutes after eleven, looking a bit more whore-ish than I would have preferred. They were both wearing short, short mini-skirts and low cut tops. “Katrina” was wearing thigh high black boots; “Venus” was wearing standard issue black stilettos.

They looked as good as their photos and I couldn’t wait to get stuck in between them. I was going to be the filling in their discreetlondon sandwich!

The flat was prepped and so was I, freshly Erectalis’d up and raring to go! I’d also had a couple of line and a couple of whiskeys, so I was feeling really good. We got the business side of things out of the way and then it was properly party time!

I’ve gotten into the habit of putting the cash into a plain white envelope before the girls arrive and normally they quickly tuck it into their handbags without opening it, but not “Venus”. She tore open the envelope and counted out the eight, fifty pound notes before nodding and smiling at me.

Where did I get eight, fifty pound notes?

I still get cash-back every time I shop at the supermarket and I always ask for a fifty-pound note when I do. It’s the most they’ll let you take at a time and I guess old habits die hard. This was how I used to fund my discreet fun back when I lived with my wife.

I offered them both a drink, which gave me an excuse to visit the kitchen for a charlie top-up. They asked for vodka, which I had. I mixed it with orange juice and added a couple of ice cubes and cocktail hour began!

I returned to the living room and sat between these two lovelies, handing them each a drink. Before long, they were taking turns kissing me deeply.

The blonde, “Katrina” said something to “Venus” that I didn’t quite understand and I later found out that was because she didn’t speak English! I actually think she was speaking French to “Venus”, but with her unusual eastern European accent, I couldn’t be sure.

“Venus” translated and explained that “Katrina” thought she could taste cocaine on my lips. I was briefly concerned that this upset them, but it was quite the opposite! The girls wanted me to share!

I didn’t have a problem with that, so I got a full wrap out of my stash and returned to the lounge. I’m getting quite good at chopping out lines, but that’s because I get a lot of practise and before you could say “charlie”, I had six lines racked up on the glass coffee table and ready to go.

The girls snorted two lines each with real enthusiasm and wanted more straight away. I was only too happy to provide, for me as well. Before long, the three of us were coked to the eyeballs and ready for lusty fun and games!

I thought I’d start out slow and I asked the girls for a little show, one of the many services they offered on their website. I put on my favourite radio station, MagicFM and then just sat back on the sofa as they slow danced and grinded against each other. Even though there was a bit of a height difference between them, they were able to lock lips for a long, slow, deep, tonguey kisses.

With all this visual stimulation and the Erectalis flowing through my veins all the way to my cock, I was rigid in no time at all. Actually, I got so damn hard that I slipped open my charcoal grey robe just to give it a quick squeeze!

Their routine, for lack of a better word, while hotter than hell, did have an air of being rehearsed, especially when they began to undress each other. Mind you, I’m not complaining! I guess it happens when two people know each other as well as I’m guessing these two did; kind of like a married couple when the sex gets boring!

They really did know how to move and as they gradually shed their garments my anticipation was building. “Katrina” dropped to her knees, then craned her neck to suckle “Venus’s” nipples, which were standing up straight and they looked like little bullets.

“Katrina” went lower, slipped “Venus’s” thong down to the floor and then buried her face in a little tiny corner of heaven, where I hoped to join her soon. She really went for it, no slow burn here and from the way “Venus” was reacting, she knew how to hit her sweet spot.

“Venus” came with a gigantic shudder and as soon as she caught her breath, she pushed “Katrina” down on the floor. “Katrina” reclined, with her legs spread wide while her elbows supported her midsection, so she could keep her head up and watch as “Venus” licked her out.

By now my cock was throbbing like someone hit it with a hammer, only in a good way. Soon, it was my turn!

Once “Katrina” orgasmed, I beckoned for the two of them to follow me into the bedroom so that I could be the centre of attention for the remainder of the session. I slipped off my robe and let it drop to the floor, before climbing on the bed and laying back.

The girls wasted no time in going down on my stiffy, taking turns at who could suck it down deeper. That contest ended in a very happy tie! Experience is always a welcome thing!

It was so good that I’m not even sure which one of them took my load and I didn’t really care! At that point I realised that they were really just one being, with four hands, two mouths and two very hot, juicy pussies!

Everything they did, they did in concert with each other, as if they had some non-verbal connection that kept them in perfect synch throughout the entire night.

Now that I’d cum once, I relaxed a bit and was ready to taste them both, one at a time.

I decided to do “Katrina” first and my reason for this may seem silly. “Katrina” had a Brazilian wax while “Venus” was neatly trimmed; I prefer trimmed to waxed and wanted to save the best for last.

Both of them had very clean, sweet tasting pussies, but in my extensive experience, that’s always true with whores. It’s their living, so they need to keep them in tiptop condition all the time. I’m not sure how they do that exactly and I don’t know if I want to know; I’m just glad they do!

I made “Katrina” cum a couple of times, before switching over to “Venus”. While I was eating “Katrina”, “Venus” had been gently playing with my cock, getting it hard again and all they did was swap positions. Then I gave “Venus” the full discreetlondon treatment with bells on!

By now, a good portion of my session had by passed and I reckoned I only had time to pop once more. I knew I wanted to fuck one of them, but I was having trouble making up my mind as to which one.

I went for “Katrina”, how could I not? Tall, blonde, long legged, it was the only right decision in more ways than one. Don’t get me wrong; if I’d had more time, I would have shagged the ass off of “Venus” too!

I lay down on my back again, this time, with my head near the foot of the bed and I motioned for “Katrina” to straddle me. She slipped a condom on my todger and climbed on board the DL express, next stop sexual nirvana!

She was riding my cock like it was a polo pony and our team was winning!

“Venus” didn’t waste any time; she sat on my face and let me gorge myself on her sweet cunt while I was fucking “Katrina”. The fucking was so good that I had a hard time concentrating on the pussy licking, but I did my best. The hardest part was maintaining a steady rhythm.

Life does not get much better than this. If it does, please tell me how and be convincing, because I probably won’t believe you!

Since I’d already popped once, I lasted a very long time but eventually I had another massive orgasm. It was fantastic and it took me a few minutes to catch my breath. Seriously, I was left breathless by the intensity of this!

After that, “Venus” said it was time they should go, and with that, they dressed and they went. I was left feeling very relaxed, somewhat drained, but still wanting more.

Maybe I was just lonely.

No, it wasn’t that; I wanted more sex!

The next morning, I woke up feeling rough as fuck. I had another bloody nose again and they’ve been happening more regularly in the mornings.

I think it might be the cocaine, but I’m not sure. I do know “Wheeler’s” isn’t the best I’ve ever had, but I don’t think I’ll be buying any more from him, anytime soon.

Why?

Elvis returned, but not in a way I would have hoped for.

I was coming home from work last Monday night and just as I was punching in the entry code for the front door of my block of flats, I felt a sharp tap on my shoulder. I turned around and there was Elvis.

He wasn’t alone; a rather large and burly man was standing behind him and just to the side, peering at me menacingly. Elvis didn’t look happy.

He said, “Why you no call me?”

Right away, I was confused. When I saw him standing there, initially I was quite pleased as I’d missed him and always thought of him as a mate. But Elvis is normally well spoken and his accent isn’t usually noticeable, so I knew something was up.

I quickly explained how I’d lost my mobile phone when I was mugged and it was the only place I had his mobile number. I told I’ve wanted to get in touch with him practically since then, but didn’t have any way to reach him. I knew he couldn’t reach me either, since the only number he had for me was my stolen mobile.

This didn’t seem to make a difference to Elvis. He reminded me I owed him some money, five hundred quid to be precise.

I hadn’t forgotten.

He said he wanted the money right then and there. Of course, it was a Monday and I’d just blown my stash of secret fifty pound notes on the two whores, so the only option was to go to the nearest cash point.

Elvis and his silent, but intimidating friend accompanied me to the bank and when I tried to withdraw five hundred, it said the maximum I could take was only two-fifty; the daily limit on my card.

Elvis was not pleased.

He said he’d call at my flat the following night for the balance. Then he shifted gears on me again and asked me if I wanted any of his “product”.

Of course I did! “Wheeler’s” cocaine is shite! It’s coarse and mixed with speed and keeps me up all night!

I took Elvis’s mobile number and gave him my new one, but that wasn’t enough. He wanted my landline as well.

Now it’s one thing to have your secret, second, untraceable pay-as-you-go mobile number in a drug dealer’s address book or mobile phone, it’s another to have a very traceable landline number as well.

I didn’t have a choice. I gave him my home number, so, in his words, “we avoid situations like this again”. He’s got a point there.

Though I’m pleased to get my better charlie connection back, I found the entire incident somewhat unsettling and disturbing. I thought Elvis was a decent guy, but he got very heavy with me over what I would consider a small amount of dosh.

He knew I was good for it, he knew where I lived, and he should have just called by sooner; he didn’t have to wait for months.

And why did he have the other guy with him? Did he think I would need roughing up?

Mainly, his unexpected return delayed me from my real mission that evening, to check my mailbox for that letter.

After Saturday morning’s post, I spent the remainder of the weekend trying not to think about it, knowing that the earliest it could arrive and I’d open it, was Monday night.

But it wasn’t there on Monday night.

My distraction that night was a good one. An advert I posted on craigslist that I promptly forgot about had yielded an amazing number of responses! Big result!

I posted this advert on the previous Saturday morning, with replies going to yet another anonymous web-based email account. I’d been thinking about a new way to meet women online for discreet fun and when I woke up, it hit me like a bolt out of the blue!

The advert itself was simple, direct and to the point. As well as posting it on the Casual Encounters section, I thought it would be a laugh to try it in the Erotic Services section as well.

Now I’m the one laughing, because the Erotic Services version is the one that brought me all the replies! I’ve had more responses then I know what to do with and plan on working my way through as many as I can.

The advert has been so amazingly successful that I’m going to share it with you all right now. Though first, I should say that any further emails I receive, now that I’m writing about it, will not get any response from me.

Why?

Simple. I know there are people out there still trying to identify me and I’m not that foolish.

The advert is still running, I mistakenly binned the posting email and can’t delete it.

You could conceivably track it down and reply to it, but your email will never get a response from me. Not if you’ve sent it after I post this entry.

Too late! The offer is now closed.

The advert was entitled: “help for pre-orgasmic women” and here’s the full text of it:

“I'm offering help for any pre-orgasmic women in London.

Do you have trouble achieving orgasm? Perhaps you've never had one before. I can help.

Through a combination of imagination exercises and experienced stimulation, I can show you how to reach climax, again and again. With my proven method of orgasm encouragement, you will be able to cum whenever you like!

There's no need to be embarrassed, this is a common problem, but it doesn't need to go on forever. You can improve your sex life with noticeable results after only one session!

Please email for more details. Total discretion is assured.”

Brilliant, eh? I’m a bloody genius, I am!

The first one hundred or so that emailed all received the same initial response.

Basically, I said I’d been overwhelmed by the response to the advert and I would be personally getting in touch with suitable candidates in due course. After that, I just couldn’t deal with sending any more, I thought I might end up with RSI!

I still can’t believe the volume of emails I’ve received from this simple, yet effective offer. Why didn’t I think of this sooner? Even if I only actually meet ten percent of them, that will be a great result!

And it’s not like it’s false advertising; I’m as good as my word. I’ve yet to meet a woman who hasn’t succumbed to the full discreetlondon treatment. I doubt I’ll have nothing but success with all of the women I’ll meet through this advert.

And I’ll bet you are all impressed with the words “pre-orgasmic” and my use of them. My secret?

Google. It knows everything so I don’t need to!

I really wasn’t up to setting anything up last week, but this week I’ve been in contact with a few possible partners. If they play their cards right, one of them could be lucky enough to have a session with me as soon as tomorrow night!

“Jenny” and I had a chance to do a bit of a proper post-mortem on our recent trip to Manchester; I took her to lunch the week before last. She said she thought we made a great team and she hoped to accompany me on future trips and sales calls.

I’d already had the same thought, as I’ve got some unfinished business with her myself.

I know that good things come to those who wait and I’m playing such a long game with “Jenny” that it doesn’t matter how long it takes. I know it’s there for me whenever I want it and I’m going to make sure I get it when I’m good and ready!

She didn’t specifically mention having to sleep with that troll, but she did emphasise that she’s always willing to do whatever it takes to get a job done.

She really is my kind of girl!

“Ginny” has continued to impress with me with her innovative ideas and she’s even managed to catch the CD’s attention.

Basically, she’s come up with an idea for what I would describe as a pre-fab retail website that we could market to small specialist shops.

Without going into too much detail, it means designing one basic site and doing very minor tweaks to it to customise for smaller clients, so we can capture this as of yet untapped sector of the market.

The beauty of this is we can keep the costs low and the profits high! It’s simple, high volume, specialist sales and if it takes off, we’re all going to make reasonable commissions for doing next to nothing. You’ve got to love it!

Even the CD told me what a shrewd appointment he thought it was when I made “Ginny” a senior sales executive. Like I needed to hear it from him!

Elvis was as good as his word and he returned to my flat on Tuesday night at the appointed time, thankfully alone. I made sure I was home before he got there. I wanted to check the post.

Yes, on Tuesday evening when I got home, the letter was waiting for me.

It was from the laboratory that I used to do the DNA testing to show once and for all whether I’m my daughter’s biological father. It contained the results of the test.

I took the envelope up to my flat, but I didn’t open it immediately. I couldn’t, I knew Elvis was going to be arriving soon and I wanted some privacy. I put the letter on a shelf in my lounge and waited for Elvis.

He was fairly prompt and back to his old, suave self. The accent returned to smooth and unnoticeable and his manner was polite. It was as if nothing happened and we were mates again.

I had been to the bank earlier and I got enough money to pay off the debt, plus some extra to purchase his three-hundred pound deal, which is pay for six grams and get the seventh one free.

Elvis took the money for the debt, but refused any cash for the coke I got from him that day. I still don’t understand why, but he seems to prefer it this way. I really tried to get him to take the dosh, but he wouldn’t hear of it!

I would prefer not to owe him anything, but I think that’s understandable.

Elvis didn’t stay long, but then he never really used to anyway. I suppose the only real benefit to having contact with him again is the quality of my charlie will be back to its former, higher standard.

After Elvis left, I laid out a couple of lines and poured myself a treble whiskey.

I got the envelope from the shelf and put it on the coffee table in front of me. I stared at it for the longest time.

Opening that envelope has to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Inside it was a single sheet of paper with my future printed on it.

By now my head was spinning and I really couldn’t read the entire letter.

I scanned it as quickly as I could for the relevant portion and this is word for word what I found:

“The DNA tests exclude paternity. “discreetlondon” cannot be the father of “this little girl” as he lacks the genetic markers that must have been inherited by the child from the biological father.”

I read it again. And again. And again.

She’s not mine.

She’s not mine!

Does my wife know I’m not her father?

Your guess is as good as mine at this point.

Well then who is her father?

It’s not that guy my wife left me for, the doctor, he was ruled out when the baby was born. He’s Asian; it was obvious he couldn’t be her father.

So whose is she?

I have no idea.

Does my wife know who her father is?

I certainly hope so! How many men could she have slept with?

I don’t want to know!

I’m feeling angry, hurt and very sad. I can go from a blind rage to uncontrollable tears in a matter of seconds.

I don’t know what to do next. I still haven’t said anything to my wife. I don’t know what to say to her.

How about, “You stupid fucking bitch! What are you fucking playing at? How could you?” That could be a good start.

But then what?

I don’t know. I really don’t.

I’m about as gutted as man can be. I’ve even wondered if I should have had the test at all.

Too late!

Don’t ask a difficult question unless you really want to know the answer! Now that I know the answer, a part of me wishes I never asked the question.

I phoned in sick last Wednesday, Thursday and Friday; I used the old reliable “bad back” excuse. Then, I went on the bender to end all benders.

I drank copious amounts of whiskey; I snorted giant piles of charlie. I didn’t leave my flat for two whole days and nights. All I wanted was to be completely numb and I succeeded.

I spoke to no one except Terry and that was only to check in and to let them know I wouldn’t be coming to work.

On Friday, the MD phoned me. He was pleasant and charming as always and reminded me of the company’s private health insurance scheme.

He said, “Dear boy, you don’t need to suffer. Get some treatment and get back in here as soon as you can.”

It would have been good advice if I really had a backache, but absolutely pointless in helping with my heartache. It’s more than heartache; my ticker is well and truly broken!

Last weekend saw my binge continue and I’ve had a bloody nose most mornings as well as the expected monster hangovers. My nose hasn’t been just a bit bloody, but scabby too. It’s really not pleasant, but more charlie seems to numb the stinging pain.

I didn’t have a choice; I needed the escape. I made sure if I wasn’t asleep, I wasn’t sober and stayed that way until Sunday.

On Sunday I started writing this entry. I’ve deleted what I’ve written and restarted it three times now. I’m still not happy with it but it’s been too long since I’ve posted anything.

I’m never going to get it right, so I might as well just put it online.

Now I know this is going to sound odd, but it’s as if I’ve put off posting this entry because somehow when I publish it, it makes the reality of the paternity test result all the more real.

I went back to work yesterday, fended off the “how’s your back?” questions and had a fairly uneventful day. I brought some charlie and dipped into it a little bit.

Today is looking very much the same, which is why I’ve got the time to polish this turd of a posting as best I can and get it online.

Even a couple of lines this morning hasn’t helped make writing this easier. Nothing has.

I hate myself, for believing I was ever her father.

I hate my wife for this ultimate betrayal and I want the “decree absolute” now more than ever.

But I don’t hate that little baby, how could I?

I don’t love her either, I can’t. I won’t.

She’s not mine.

The waiting is the hardest part

2006-02-16T18:29:00.000Z

A nurse came to my flat last Saturday and took the DNA samples from my daughter and me.

She used a cotton swap to rub the inside of my cheek and did the same to my little girl before putting each sample into a small phial. I signed a couple of forms and that was it, the nurse was gone.

I arranged for her visit via a private laboratory that I found on the internet. They said they offered a “discreet service” so I knew right away they were the firm for me.

I’m waiting for the results right now. Waiting is never easy, especially when you’re waiting for something this important.

They gave me several options on how they would communicate the results to me; they offered to send someone in person to my flat to give me the news (for an additional charge), they could also telephone me with the results, or they offered a third option, which I went for.

The third option was to receive the results of the paternity test via post. While it may add a day or two to my wait, I decided at the time that this was the easiest way to handle it, whatever the outcome.

I didn’t need some sort of counsellor to tell me face to face and I didn’t want a telephone call that could potentially come any time.

Instead, I’ll wait for the letter, which I can open and read in the privacy of my own home in my own time.

Of course, now that I’m actually waiting, I’m thinking that I should have ticked the box for a phone call. An extra day or two’s waiting won’t kill me, but the sooner I find out the truth the better!

At least the letter didn’t arrive on Tuesday; having my heart broken on the fourteenth of February wouldn’t have been much fun. Anyway, I don’t do irony.

As you can probably tell, I’m expecting the worst possible news.

The weekend was fairly uneventful otherwise. For the most part I stayed in with my little girl. If she is my little girl?

It was an awkward weekend for me; every time I looked at her, I could feel my heart sink just a little bit. I wanted to be the best father in the world! I want so much for my daughter to grown up and have a perfect life!

If she’s not my daughter, I still want nothing but the best for her, but I don’t know if I can be a part of her life. Whenever I try to think about this possible, unpleasant outcome, I feel a bit lost.

I just don’t know what I’ll do.

If the time comes, I’m sure I’ll work it out. I won’t have a choice.

The postman will be delivering my future straight to my letterbox. How surreal is that?

I’ll stop dwelling on this for now; I was hoping I’d know the answer to this rather difficult question before this week finished. That’s looking less likely now.

My jaunt to Manchester didn’t work out exactly as I had planned, though I was able to sort out the business aspects of trip with my usual ease. The unpleasantness with our client has been successfully resolved, thanks to me and my quick thinking!

“Jenny” and I arrived in Manchester late last Thursday afternoon. While on the train, I had arranged for someone senior from our client’s office to meet us at the hotel bar for a casual drink later that evening to chat informally about the problem. “Jenny” and I checked into our adjoining rooms at the hotel and had wee rest before meeting the client.

My plan for this trip was simple; I wanted to shag the ass off of “Jenny”. She’d made it abundantly clear that I could have her if I wanted her, but I was playing a long game and was waiting for the right moment.

Last Thursday night should have been the big night, but things got a little complicated.

How?

Allow me to explain.

We met the client in the hotel bar and right from the outset, he couldn’t hide his attraction to “Jenny”.

Who could blame him? She’s a stunner and imminently shaggable! If his eyes could have actually removed her clothing, “Jenny” would have been nude within seconds!

My discreet mind didn’t miss his attraction to “Jenny”, it was written all over his face like a billboard, in ten-foot high neon letters.

Our client however, was not in “Jenny’s” league, not even close.

He was short, he was fat and he was bald. What woman would ever want a guy like that?

Besides whores, but that’s because they get paid in cash!

We had a couple of drinks and chatted amiably with the client. “Jenny” and I had already dipped into “Wheeler’s” finest, so we were both quite talkative and in good spirits.

I could definitely sense that our client wanted “Jenny” and that got my devious mind working overtime.

I had a rough plan, so I discreetly slipped the wrap of charlie to “Jenny” and she knew to excuse herself to the loo for a toot.

While “Jenny” was gone, I casually mentioned to our client how obvious his lust for “Jenny” was and he just laughed nervously.

I told him that perhaps an accommodation of some sort could be arranged, in the interests of keeping relations between our companies sweet.

The client nervously twisted his wedding ring around his finger as he listened to what I had to say.

I told him while I couldn’t promise him anything just yet; I said I felt confident that I could arrange for “Jenny” to be especially friendly to him in return for a simple professional favour.

A smile stretched across his face as my words sunk in. He responded by saying, “Anything! Name it” and I knew I had him hooked!

Life is simple; my requirement was easy. I asked him to resolve the dispute here and now and in return I’d sort out “Jenny” for him.

Who could possibly refuse such a generous offer?

The client paused for a minute while his brain worked out what he could get away with and only then did he agree to my terms.

Deal done; almost.

I still had the hard part, which was convincing “Jenny” that sleeping with this odious little troll would benefit her, me and most importantly, our firm.

I told the client that when “Jenny” returned, he should excuse himself to the loo and give me five minutes to put in the “good word”.

He was happy enough with that plan and could hardly contain his excitement for what lie ahead. He was like a kid on Christmas if Santa had left him the entire toyshop!

“Jenny” returned wide-eyed and grinning, as “Wheeler’s” stuff worked its magic on her. After a moment or two, the client left the table, leaving us alone briefly. This wasn’t going to take long.

I quickly explained to “Jenny” the situation, letting her know that I’d pretty much solved the problem, but needed her help to close the deal.

She seemed intrigued, so I took things further. I went to the other side of the table and sat next to her. I put my hand on her knee, looked her in the eye and laid the entire situation out for her as gently as I could.

There was a flash in “Jenny’s” eyes as she twigged what I was really asking for and a look of utter dismay on her face as it sunk in. I told her that sometimes you’ve “got to take one for the team” and this was one of those occasions.

I told her it was simple, we could take care of all of this right now via this back door deal and have an easy day on Friday. Or we could try our luck walking through the front door of the company and trying to sort it out at some tedious meeting with the troll and his equally troll-like associates.

“Jenny” said something sweet; she said that she was hoping to spend some time with me.

“Me too, love”, I thought, but sorting this out takes priority.

I felt a bit like a pimp doing this, but I knew in my heart it was the right way to proceed.

It wasn’t as if “Jenny” was a virgin and she’s got a reputation for cheating on her husband anyway, so this shouldn’t have been a big deal for her. Her reservations, which she confided in me, concerned her potential partner.

She described him as “repulsive” and “loathsome” which wasn’t unreasonable for her to say, but I was guessing she’d been had by worse. I didn’t share that thought with her. I didn’t have to sleep with him, so it was easy enough for me.

In the end, “Jenny” relented and when our client returned, I gave him a subtle nod and a wink and he knew that the arrangement had been made.

I ordered a bottle of champagne and sent “Jenny” back to the loo with the charlie, thinking she was going to need it more than I would!

I let our client know that I expected him to arrange for a cheque for their outstanding debt to be cut in time for me to hand-carry it back to London on Friday.

He ummm’d and ahhh’d a bit, so I gave him my “serious face” and told him this was a deal-breaker. He relented, though I could tell he wasn’t best pleased.

It’s understandable; finance directors and accountants are pricks of the highest order. I expected it wouldn’t be easy for him to get a big cheque cut on short notice, on a Friday no less, but that wasn’t my problem.

At this point, all of my problems were solved, so I really didn’t give a shit.

Sure, I was disappointed that my golden opportunity with “Jenny” had slipped from my fingers, but it was by choice. I knew that other chances would present themselves in due course. I’m can be a patient guy! I’m playing a long game.

When “Jenny” returned, we cracked open the champers and toasted this new understanding between our two firms. Result!

“Jenny” put it off as long as she could, but eventually she had to invite the client back to her room.

As I watched them head towards the lift, all I could think is that “Jenny” had in this one act, redefined the term “walk of shame”.

As I sat there, finishing off the last drops of the champagne, I tried to imagine the client’s hulking, sweaty frame, on top of “Jenny”, pumping and grinding against her thin, lithe body. It nearly made me lose me dinner!

“Jenny” deserves an award for her service in the field, above and beyond the normal call of duty! She’s a real trooper!

I went back to my room and toyed with the idea of booking a whore, but my independent escort website has me spoiled. I like looking at the whore’s photos and choosing the one that looks the best.

I had my PowerBook with me, but the wi-fi in the hotel was down, which was quite annoying, otherwise I could have searched that particular site for a local, Manchester-based hooker.

If I was really thinking ahead, I could have done this before I left London, but I was counting on a taste of “Jenny” so I didn’t think of a contingency plan.

There’s no such thing as a sure thing, even with a sure thing like “Jenny”!

Always have a stand-by option!

I couldn’t bring myself to book a prossie sight unseen, so I left it for the night and eventually drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, “Jenny” and I met for breakfast prior to our appointment at the client’s office. She looked very unhappy and hung over. I thanked her again for doing the unthinkable. At least she spared me the details.

The client was as good as his word. When we arrived for the meeting, he explained to the other managers that we had managed to resolve our differences at our informal meeting the previous night. He also said he looked forward to our future business dealings and shot a quick look at “Jenny” as he did.

He then presented me with an envelope, which contained a big, fat cheque, thus clearing their outstanding debt with us.

To show our thanks, we took them all out for a slap-up lunch, before jumping on the train back to London. At lunch, “Jenny” sat as far away from the troll as possible and I don’t think she so much as glanced in his general direction once.

Once we got back to London, we went straight to office and I reported directly to the MD. I didn’t say anything at first when went to see him, I just handed him the envelope silently. He opened it up, withdrew the contents then looked up at me, wide-eyed.

“How did you manage that?” he asked somewhat flummoxed by this unexpected delivery.

“Simple”, I told him, “I’m so shit hot, I’m on fire.” He chuckled at that, but he couldn’t argue with it either.

I wasn’t about to tell him I pimped a member of my staff’s ass out to some disgusting troll just so we’d get paid. Some things are best kept to oneself.

Or maybe, he would have been bowled over by my ingenuity and creative thinking. I shouldn’t be greedy; having that cheque in his hands should have scored me maximum points without any further embellishments.

After that, I went to see “Wheeler” to stock up for the weekend.

His stuff may not be the best, but it’s consistent and at least I’m able to still buy from him. I’ve tried to tell him that his stuff would be better without the speed, but he maintains his customers prefer it.

His customer base is pretty much my entire office, so perhaps I should take a straw poll.

I did make a brief appearance at the big office party, but didn’t stay very long. To be honest, I didn’t get the hero’s welcome I was hoping for and so richly deserved after salvaging this big contract in the eleventh hour.

Screw ‘em!

It didn’t matter, I was late meeting my ex-wife at my flat and she had the nerve to complain I kept her waiting!

I have a life too, you know!

My daughter was actually very easy to care for; she is always so well behaved. She’s a little angel all weekend and didn’t cause me any bother!

I really didn’t do much over the weekend; I just tried to make the most of being with my daughter. It wasn’t easy, with this entire mess hanging over me, but I tried.

Can babies pick up on their parent’s feelings? My guess is they can. Still, I hope not.

As I mentioned earlier, it was Valentine’s Day this week. I hope you all got lots of choccies and some really hot sex! I wasn’t nearly that lucky.

I received only one card on Tuesday; it was from “Tanya” the teacher. The gesture seemed like the last desperate act of a desperate woman.

The final time I saw “Tanya” it didn’t go so well, largely because of her ill-mannered children. I haven’t spoken to her since then, though she has left me a couple of voicemails on my second, secret mobile phone.

I’ve ignored them all, just as I ignored her card. If she didn’t get the message before, I’m sure it’s coming in loud and clear now.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like her, because I did. Plus she gave great head, but the whole package, which included her little brats, was more than I could handle. It was a lot more than I was looking for.

So now, my plan is to aim for slightly younger, childless women on that dating website. I’ve taken a couple of more steps and fired off a few more emails and I’m still waiting for replies. If I’m lucky, perhaps I’ll find a new playmate for this coming weekend.

I’ve also got a few new adverts running on craigslist and Gumtree. I’m not going to tell you what they say, but I’m taking a new approach. Perhaps it will help end my dry spell on the sleazy contact sites.

And if I don’t find someone that way, I’ve always got my other website with the independent prossies, so I could just book someone to come over.

Basically, no matter what, I’m going to get some action this coming weekend! I deserve it!

And speaking of my favourite whore website, this week’s discovery genuinely plumbs a brand new low.

There’s a woman on the site advertising herself under the name of “Period Penny” and guess what she offers, at quite a high rate…?

Yes, I bet you worked it out already. She’s available for any kind of sex you require, during her monthly visit! She’ll let you fuck her and eat her while she’s bleeding! Even worse, for an added charge, she will let you have some of her used tampons!

Well it makes sense, since she can only really work five days a month, so she needs to maximise her earning potential while she can.

This is by far the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard of, it even beats “hardsports” and “lactation”!

I can’t imagine anything will ever top this one, but I shouldn’t speak too soon. Who knows what I’ll discover next week!

By far the best thing about the previous week or so is I have not had one single email from my stalker. Well, not since I hit her with my discreet revenge plan! I bet you she’s still steamed over how I put one over on her!

Let that be a lesson for anyone who tries to fuck with discreetlondon!

You can try to best me, as other’s have before, but you will never, ever beat me. I’m far too clever for anyone to ever win!

I don’t have much to report from my office this week, I’ve settled back into having nothing to do. The Creative Director popped into my office the other day to “run something by me.”

The CD has been trying to think of ways to raise the profile of our firm. He’s convinced the MD that we should do some work for free, for a charity. He wants to have a meeting next week with all the senior managers and directors to “brain storm” on how best to approach this to maximise our exposure.

What do I know about charity other than it should begin at home! This meeting is going to be another one of the CD’s snooze fests; I can just sense it!

Perhaps it’s time my “bad back” started acting up again! Or maybe I should try the old “working from home” wheeze again?

I’m still in my office; I’ve stayed late to finish this entry. Well, that and I’m really not in any hurry to go home. Even though waiting for the DNA results is hard, opening that envelope is going to be harder.

And right now, it could be waiting for me in my post box. But I’ve finished this entry now and all I’ve got left to do is publish it.

I can’t put it off any longer. I’m going to go back to my flat now.

DL Answers - again!

2006-02-13T21:22:00.000Z

Hello again and welcome to another instalment of “discreetlondon answers!”. I had some time over the weekend to catch up on my emails and prepare this latest update for you all.

I’ve got some more good questions this time with hopefully some equally good answers.

Let’s get straight in with the Q&A!
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Dear discreet,

Love your blogs but I want to know what happened to your dog.

You mentioned her a lot in your first blog, but she seems to have disappeared. Where is your dog?

Bestest,
A big fan
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Dear big fan,

Thank you for your question about my dog and you are right, she did disappear!

Just before my wife gave birth to the baby, she moved in with her parents temporarily and she took the dog with her. When she returned to our old house with the baby, she decided it was too much to have the dog with her as well, so she left her with her parents. That’s where she’s been ever since.

I miss my dog a lot, though I guess she’s not my dog any more. I did think about trying to get her back, but living in a block of flats in central London, wouldn’t make keeping a dog ideal. Plus with working full time and having a social life, I wouldn’t be home enough to spend time with her.

As much as I dislike my ex-in-laws, they’re retired and home all the time. They live in the countryside in Wiltshire, which is a much nicer place for my dog to be, so I really can’t complain too much.

Thanks for your question! Keep enjoying my blog!

All the best,
discreetlondon
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Hello DL,

I really enjoy reading your blogs, you truly are an example for all married men to follow! I don’t need advice as such, but there’s something I would like to know.

Why do you have 2 blogs? Why did you stop the first one? Why didn’t you just keep writing in it?

Sometimes I check the first one, just to make sure you haven’t started it again!

Sincerely,
A curious fan
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Hello curious fan!

What a great question, though to be honest, I thought I explained this when I finished the last blog. Here we go:

My last blog was called “the secret internet diary of an unfaithful husband”. Since I’m really no longer married anywhere except on paper, I didn’t really think that it made sense to call myself an “unfaithful husband” any more. Plus, it ended right around the time I wasn’t easily able to access the internet, so it just made sense.

I started this blog because I felt like people were missing me and wanted to know what happened next.

I called it “divorcedlondon” because quite frankly, I thought I was going to be divorced last August and it’s only because of the complications with the baby that my wife hasn’t filed for the “decree absolute”, so this hasn’t exactly worked out the way I planned it.

What in life ever does?

By then, I was locked into the name, so I’ve stuck with it. And don’t worry, I haven’t made any new entries on my blog in months and months and have no plans on doing so either. The blog you are reading right now is my current, ongoing blog and I have no plans to stop anytime soon!

And once I get my wife to file for the final bit of our divorce, then the name of this one will finally make sense!

Thanks again for your question!

All the best,
discreetlondon
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Hey DL,

Could you send me the address to that new website you’re raving about? Or better yet, post it on your site!

I’m in London too and could do with knowing more about it!

Thanks!
Everyone!
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Hello “everyone”,

Thanks for asking about this new website I’ve been using. It really is as good as I have described!

I’m happy to email anyone who asks with the website details, but I’m not willing to post a link on my blog. Not yet, anyway!

Why?

Simple, I am in the process of approaching the website to pay to advertise on my blog. It only makes sense that if I’m going to be putting business their way, they should pay me for the privilege!

I’m going to offer them the chance to be the exclusive sponsors of this blog! They’d be crazy not to leap at the chance!

I’ve already emailed them once, but they haven’t replied yet. I’ll leave it a little while before contacting them again, but I think it makes great sense!

So keep your eyes out for what could be my first ever paid for link!

All the best,
discreetlondon
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Dear discreet,

Posts need to be more regular on here to keep the readers interested. Doesnt sound like you are so busy that you couldnt give this blog 10 or 15 mins every day for a quick update. People lose interest when you dont post ???

Missing you!

A reader
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Hello A reader,

Thank you for your question. You’re not the first to point out the rather lengthy gaps between my posts and I’m sure you won’t be the last!

I try to post about once a week, but I don’t keep to any set schedule. My normal posts are quite long and do take considerable time to write. I’ve tried to maintain a standard of quality and consistency, as well as frequency, as best I can. I’m sorry if it is not enough for you!

I do have a life you know, and a job. Granted I’m frequently not that busy at work, but I can’t always focus my attention on writing. I wouldn’t want to do shorter posts, more often, it’s just not my the discreetlondon style!

Thanks again for your note and I hope you keep enjoying my blog!

All the best,
discreetlondon
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Dear DL,
I put “discreetlondon” into Google to find your site and I discovered 2 website that talk about you.

The first is from a woman in Manila who wrote a long analysis all about you and your blogs! Here’s the link: Link One

And the second one is really weird, but rather than even try to explain it, maybe you should just see it for yourself. Here’s the link: Link Two.

The second one scared me a little, hope it doesn’t upset you too!

Really love reading your blogs, never stop!

Regards,
a long time fan
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Dear long time fan,

Thank you very much for your email and for those 2 links. I hadn’t seen them before, so I guess you could say I read them both with great interest.

That woman in Manila certainly seems upset by me and everything I stand for, but even more, if you read between the lines, she has absolutely no trust for her own boyfriend. All my blogs have done is bring out her fears even more!

When she says that she’s involved in every part of his life, she is really just trying to fool herself. If her man wants to cheat on her badly enough, he’ll find a way and he won’t get caught!

From what little I know about the Philippines, there are bargirls aplenty, so finding someone willing is probably just as easy and buying a cold bottle of beer. I bet the price is around the same for both as well! All her man would need is a spare ten minutes and a spare ten Manila-pounds and he could probably get the two-girl special!

That second link you sent is far more disturbing. He seems like a right psycho, with a rather unhealthy interest in me.

I suppose as my popularity grows, it only makes sense that I’m attracting some weirdo’s and kooks.

What it says to me is that I really need to be extra careful now, more so than ever and I can never, ever reveal my real-life identity. Even if I make a gazillion pounds from my story, I’ll always need to remain anonymous.

Just imagine if that nutter came looking for me! He seems like he could be a tad dangerous! Look at all the details he’s got about me already! It’s frightening!

At least I haven’t said enough about myself for anyone to ever track me down! People have tried, but I’m just too clever for them!

Thanks for pointing those sites out to me; I really appreciate it. And if you or anyone else stumbles upon any other mentions of my blogs, please send them my way!

All the best,
discreetlondon
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You might have noticed that this most recent edition of “discreetlondon answers!” didn’t have any emails from anyone looking for advice on personal problems. There’s a reason for this.

One of my regular contributors to this section had one of my personal replies to her discovered by her husband and this brought a whirlwind of grief down upon my fan.

I’ve been quite upset about this. I’m supposed to solve people’s problems here, not create new ones for them. I’m wondering if I really should be getting involved with other people’s lives.
It’s really easy for me to sit here and tell people how to discreetly commit infidelity and to be honest; I enjoy it. Helping other people get away with it is almost as good as getting away with it myself. Without the sex, obviously.

I have a talent, a knack for this sort of thing and I thought it was my duty; my responsibility to share it with the world. It was never my intention to cause anyone any sort of pain.

To be honest, I don’t know what to do.

I would love to keep answering your emails, but I’m not sure if I should. I’m going to give it some thought, so in the meantime, feel free to continue with your submissions. Whether I use them here or not, I promise you a personal reply!

This time, I’ve played it safe with the letters, we’ll see how I feel when the time comes to update this section again!

Thanks for your understanding!

All the best,
discreetlondon
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Mostly very good times

2006-02-09T12:37:00.000Z

Before anyone else says it, I’m going to say it first; I’m well overdue with a new post.

I’m always late! You could always apply for a refund.

Oh wait. You don’t pay me anything for this, do you?

If someone wanted to sponsor this blog; perhaps even become my benefactor, I would make it more of a priority. As of now, I haven’t made so much as a single pound from it, so blogging remains just a hobby.

Though it is just a hobby that I enjoy very much, it’s also a hobby without a set schedule. Anyway, the longer I make you all wait for it, the more you all want it and the better it is when I finally give it to you!

Since my last posting, I’ve been surprisingly busy and I do have a lot to share with you.

I’m a hero at the office in more ways than one; I managed to put one over on my email stalker with real style and I had some great sex as well as a narrow escape.

I’m feeling really good about nearly everything in my life at the moment and I know I should just sit back and enjoy it, but there has been one thing bothering me.

It’s been more than bothering me; it’s been nagging me day and (sleepless) night.

I’ve looked into DNA testing for my daughter.

I’m going to get it done as soon as I can, this coming weekend if I can get an appointment. I’m waiting to hear back from the testing lab to see if they can take the samples then.

My wife has asked me to take our daughter this weekend and I leapt at the chance. Not that I wouldn’t have anyway, but I’m hoping this will give me the opportunity to check and see if I’m really her father.

My wife is off on a hen weekend in Prague; one of her sister’s is getting married soon. I didn’t even know, so I guess I’m not invited on the big day. Pity, as it is the sister I’ve always been hot for!

DNA testing is not as straightforward as I thought it would be. I did my research online and a lot of these companies require the consent of both parents.

No way! I don’t want my wife to know I’m doing this.

Then I discovered if you search a bit further, there are other companies that will do the test without any of the bureaucracy of a two-parent consent requirement. They’ll even send a nurse to your home to take the samples and verify them, in case you require it for legal reasons.

I’m waiting to hear back from just such a firm, to see if they can send a nurse ‘round my flat this Saturday to take whatever they need. It’s just a swab from inside your cheek, so it’s nothing to worry about.

And once I get the results back, I’ll finally know one way or the other, whether or not I’m really her biological father.

Either way, I so very much need to know the truth. I can’t go on like this any longer.

Sometimes I just stare at her picture, the one my wife gave me for Christmas, looking at her face, trying to work out if she is my daughter.

As much as I search for a resemblance, I just can’t see any. Though you can tell she’s my wife’s daughter because there’s something very similar about their eyes.

If she is mine, then my concerns are put to rest once and for all and no one else is the wiser.

But if she’s not mine, well, that’s an entirely different story and I keep trying not to imagine its rather unhappy ending.

Enough! It’s a bridge I’ll cross if and when I need to and not before.

The MD cornered me last Friday and demanded I take him back to “my gentleman’s club”. He’d had a long liquid lunch and I must say he was quite jovial about it when he asked me.

He meant the lap-dancing club I took him to when I was interviewing for my job. He had such a good time that night that’s he’s been asking me regularly for a return visit.

I had other plans that evening, but couldn’t very well refuse, so I told him that a brief session was possible, before I had to disappear to meet a lady friend.

I wasn’t really in the mood for the club, as my other plans were far more appealing to me after a long, boring day in the office. I was supposed to meet Tanya, the women I met from the internet dating site.

We’d gone out the previous weekend and had a reasonably good time together, until Tanya abruptly fled my flat following some fantastic fellatio.

There wasn’t a chance for me to return the favour and I was looking forward to providing her with the full discreetlondon treatment that night.

The other reason spending a couple of hours in a noisy, smoky club really didn’t appeal to me, even one filled with scantily clad, willing women is that I spent most of Friday trapped in a room with the Creative Director and his team. I’m really learning to hate the CD! He is twatness personified!

We were working out how to pitch for a new client who actually contacted us, seeking our services. This “brainstorming session” as the CD called it was an exercise is sub-intellectual masturbation.

Actually, it was more like wanking with no hands.

How do you wank without using your hands and actually get off? That’s the thing; you don’t. It was a colossal waste of time.

We were locked in the conference room for nearly six hours, with just an hour break for lunch. It really did take up the entire day!

Put it this way, it was the sort of meeting where someone would say a word, and then the group would “build” on this word, turning it into a concept, then the concept would be grown into an idea, which we would eventually build into the proposal.

Say, for example, the CD threw out the word “trust”, which he actually did at this meeting. The client, whose brand name apparently tested as “trustworthy”, wants us to use this consumer trust in some way to build and expand their market-share.

So we were trying to think of a way to build on this trust. Other words that were mentioned included “secure”, “dependable” and “faithful”, which could be why I wasn’t able to contribute very much to this meeting. I don’t know much about being “faithful”!

To be honest, I spent most of the meeting daydreaming and mentally undressing all the hot women in the room. The creative department seems to have the lion’s share of the hotties. I wonder if I could nick a few of them for my department? It would certainly dress the place up a bit!

I really didn’t get the point of this “brainstorming session” and to me, it seemed like the only thing accomplished was wasting my day! I just keep telling myself I get (very well) paid the same, whether it’s tedious or not!

As well as taking my boss to the lap-dancing club on Friday evening, I had a date planned with Tanya the teacher. We were supposed to meet in the West End, which was why I was able to go to the club with the MD as well, but at the last minute, Tanya had to change the venue to her place.

Why?

Because her babysitter cancelled unexpectedly at the last minute! So instead of a fancy meal in a posh restaurant and dessert back at my flat, she offered to cook me dinner at her place in Hanwell.

This complicated my plans somewhat, as it didn’t give me much time to enjoy the club. The boss and I arrived at about 6pm and the place wasn’t that busy. I had scored some charlie from “Wheeler” again, so I was ready to party!

As soon as we arrived, we went straight to the private area and staked out an alcove. My boss ordered a bottle of champagne and we invited a couple of lovely young ladies, a blonde and brunette, to join us.

Once the curtains were pulled, I broke out the coke and laid out some juicy lines. All four of us had a couple of toots with our champers, and then the girls danced for us.

I didn’t warn the boss that the stuff was speedy, I figured he’d find out soon enough!

The girls did a little striptease with lesbian overtones, nearly kissing each other when they got close, but there was no actual lip contact. It was hot and the MD was enjoying the show as much as I was.

We drank and partied with the girls for nearly two hours, before I had to make my excuses and go. The MD arranged to take both girls with him to continue the fun and on Monday he told me they ended up in a hotel on Park Lane. He spent a fortune, but he said the experience was worth double what it cost him. He couldn’t thank me enough!

It always pays to keep your boss happy!

Meanwhile, I jumped into a black cab and made the long trek out to Hanwell, deep in the bowels of west London.

This was only my second date with Tanya and it was meant to be a casual dinner in a public place. It hadn’t really occurred to me as I made my way to her house that it was too soon to be entering her real-life.

Before I even knocked on the door, I could hear screaming inside the house. Tanya was having a heated argument with her children. I hesitated briefly before knocking on the door.

Tanya answered looking somewhat stressed, quickly explaining that her children were behaving like “monsters” and were refusing to go to bed. They’re both under ten and my impression of them was that they were absolute brats!

As soon as I arrived, both of her children, a boy and a girl, were all over me, asking me questions, jumping up and down and generally misbehaving. It seemed like they did everything they could do to make me feel uncomfortable, short of asking me straight out if “I was going to be their new daddy”.

It went on like this for over an hour; luckily I was a bit pissed and coked-up and took it in my stride. By the time she finally got the two of them settled down, I was exhausted and drained. I’d lost my appetite by then as well.

I think Tanya could tell this wasn’t going well and though she was still willing to cook, I declined her offer of a meal. Instead, I told her I’d had a long, hard day at the office and thought it would be best if I just went home.

This upset Tanya and she tried to persuade me to stay, but by then my mind was made up. She phoned for a mini-cab and I disappeared into the night.

Yes, my friends and fans, that was my narrow escape. I couldn’t think of a more unpleasant way to spend a Friday evening! As you can imagine, I won’t be phoning Tanya again and I’m already on the hunt for someone new to meet from the dating website.

I wished I had stayed with the MD at the club, or even better at the hotel with the two dancers! Oh well, you live and you learn!

Instead, when I got home, I changed into my charcoal grey robe then logged straight on to my new favourite website to search for a playmate to come over. I didn’t have to search long as a woman I’ve had my eye on was listed as available and her phone number was included on her listing page.

I phoned “Kylie” and she answered on the second ring. She looked like a right hottie in her photo, twenty-five years old, with shoulder length blonde hair and a tight little body. Her listing said she was new in town, having just arrived from Australia.

She was exceptionally pleasant on the telephone and as she’s based in Camden, it didn’t take her long to get to my place; it took her around ninety minutes to arrive from the time I phoned. Even though it’s probably only 10 minutes in a taxi, a girl needs time to prepare.

I went for a one-hour booking for one-hundred and fifty quid, which seems to be the fairly standard rate, though if you look hard enough, you can find some eastern European women offering their services for one-hundred an hour.

You can also find women charging more, but they tend to be actual porn-stars and glamour models. In my view, they wouldn’t be worth the extra money.

Something else I noticed this week is that on a whole, many blonde escorts charge more just because of their hair colour! How silly is that? Is a bottle of bleach that expensive? At least “Kylie” didn’t boost her fees because she was blonde!

“Kylie” turned up dressed in a micro-mini skirt and blouse, but the corners of the blouse were tied around her mid-drift, exposing her flat little belly. She was wearing stockings and heels as well and she looked quite tarty! I was not disappointed at all!

“Kylie” was very friendly and I immediately felt at ease in her company. She was very relaxed and laid-back and I liked her right away. I paid her fairly soon after she arrived, to get it out of the way.

She asked if she could smoke and of course I said “yes”. She then said it was a cannabis joint and again I told her I didn’t mind. I even had a couple of puffs myself, though I’m not a huge fan of the stuff.

I offered her some charlie and she jumped at the chance. This was going to be good! I also poured us a couple of whiskeys and we had a little toast to our hour together. I had swallowed an Erectalis before she arrived, so I was already good to go!

Once “Kylie” finished her joint, and we drained our glasses, I suggested we move into the bedroom.

I could detail what we got up to vividly, but I’m worried that my blog is turning into the “whore of the week” report and I’m concerned that it might be getting a bit dull.

Needless to say, there was oral sex, reverse oral and a bit of doggy style action! The main thing is I managed to pop twice in an hour, so again it was value for money. One of “Kylie’s” services was CIM and I took full advantage of her willingness to take my load! Overall, it was a very good punt!

The one real highlight of the experience was something I requested, that “Kylie” mentioned she would do on her listing page. I asked her to strip for me to music. As luck would have it, when I tuned into MagicFM, one of my favourite “Simply Red” songs came on!

It’s called “Holding Back the Years” and it’s a really slow, sexy ballad. It was perfect for watching “Kylie” peel off her togs.

Once my time was up, I thanked “Kylie” and sent her on her way. I wasn’t able to sleep easily because of the charlie, but at least I was relaxed! I ended up watching some old movie on telly before eventually drifting off.

On the Saturday night, I didn’t get up to very much. I had a few adverts running on craigslist and Gumtree, but none of the responses I received yielded any action. It seems like that’s the way at the moment; I don’t really understand why it’s all died off so much. Perhaps it’s time I found a new approach or tried some new adverts.

Actually, I spotted someone else on craigslist using one of my adverts. I mean, it was literally word-for-word, one of my adverts; a straight cut and paste!

I can only assume it was one of my fans, so hello there you little advert thief! Hope you had better luck with it than I have lately!

Oh and the advert in question? It was my old favourite; “no strings oral sex available for any woman in need”. Actually, he’s welcome to use it, as it hasn’t nearly got the appeal that it used to. I guess the ladies have had enough of that one and are ready for a new approach.

It’s settled, I’ll be using my superior discreet brain to formulate a brand new way of pulling women from the internet! I need to remain ahead of the competition somehow!

I had a big row with Doug last week, following his appearance at my flat the previous week.

He’d read what I wrote about him in my last entry and he wasn’t happy about it. I haven’t been happy with the way things have been going, mainly because they’ve been going so slowly!

I guess that makes us even.

Doug was defensive but he really didn’t have much of an argument. He’s supposedly been working on adapting my first blog into a tv series for the last few months and I’ve yet to see a single script.

After all this time, he said “that it was a bit pointless to go too far on the scripts at this point, as we haven’t had any input from any commissioners.”

I asked what he meant. He explained that if a tv network commissioner decided they wanted six, thirty minute episodes, then the pacing and scripts would go one way, but suppose they decided they wanted twenty episodes? Then it would have to go another way.

I could just about see his point.

What I got out of this is we need to be talking to commissioners to see what they want and I don’t really understand why we haven’t spoken to them already.

I’ve given Doug an ultimatum; he’s got until April to demonstrate in some tangible way that he has moved the project forward. Ideally, by getting us a deal to make the series, but I’d even settle for a finished pilot script or a “pitch meeting” with one of the networks here. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for!

Doug agreed and then, you’re not going to believe this, he asked what I thought of the discreetlondon theme song he recorded! I didn’t even dignify it with an answer!

Actually, after that, I finally cooled down enough to give the tune a listen and you know what, it’s actually quite catchy. I’ve found myself mindlessly humming it a couple of times since! I haven’t told Doug this yet, but I guess he’s reading it now for himself!

He still can’t sing though!

I wasn’t the only hero at my office this week, Terry my assistant also pulled off a wondrous move of his own. He gave “Ginny” a bit of a makeover!

“Ginny” is my recent appointee and now works in my department as a senior sales executive. It was a major promotion for her and I asked Terry to have a gentle word with her about the way she looked.

“Ginny” has no style or dress sense whatsoever and probably shops for her dresses in the same stores your grandmother does! Well, not anymore!

Terry took her shopping and got her some new, sophisticated clothing as well as taking her to a beauty counter for help with her make-up. Finally, he brought her to a posh hair stylist in Soho and had her hair professionally cut.

The results are stunning! I barely recognised her!

Don’t get me wrong, “Ginny” is still quite plain looking, but at least her wardrobe and general appearance have improved. Gay or not, I knew Terry was a gem!

I wonder if I can give him a bonus? He really keeps things together for me and I wouldn’t survive in that office without him. I should probably just do it out of my own pocket!

Maybe I’ll check with HR first. Company money would be better.

“Jenny”, who didn’t get the promotion, is accompanying me up to Manchester later today. She’s by far one of the best looking and sexiest women in my office as well as being the easiest.

“Jenny” made it clear I could have her when she was campaigning for the promotion. I’ve made her my protégé of sorts and hope to help guide her career further.

I also hope to fuck her senseless at some point soon too. Perhaps tonight, if the mood takes me.

Put it this way, I’ve already packed the Erectalis and Durex Performas! And don’t forget I’ve also got some of “Wheeler’s” finest and I know “Jenny” has a bit of taste for it!

Although the prospect of banging “Jenny” is appealing, I’m not really looking forward to this trip. I’ve got to meet with a disgruntled client and resolve a bit of dispute.

It’s really quite a silly argument and having looked into the matter, they really don’t have any cause to be upset with my firm. I think I need to find out what the real story is.

Part of me is convinced that by sending me up north to deal with this somewhat tricky and delicate matter, the MD is testing me. It’s not a sales issue, strictly speaking and when he asked me to go, he said, “Someone at the director level needs to get involved”.

What he didn’t say is; why I was chosen for this particular task.

Life is simple; either I’ll establish what the real problem is and fix it, or I won’t. Of course, I’m planning on further cementing my already impressive reputation by returning with the whole thing done and dusted!

Either way, it’s an excuse to spend the night alone with “Jenny” away from the office, so I’m not going to get too worried about the rest just yet.

As I’ve said, I‘ve already been a hero twice at work in the last week.

My first triumph concerns my friend Hans the security guard and his pursuit of Cathy, the girl who works on the coffee cart in reception.

I’ve been coaching Hans on how best to pull Cathy. What’s the point of having all my expertise with women if I can’t share it with my friends?

He finally got an opportunity to ask her for a date and they are going out together on Friday night! Result!

Cathy had mentioned to Hans she wanted to see a band that was playing this Friday night at the Hammersmith Apollo.

I’ve told Hans about a million times that the key to seducing her was to make it feel as natural as possible by jumping in and seizing any sort of opening she might provide. Thanks to my coaching, Hans was primed to offer to get the tickets as if it were a reflex action!

Well done to Hans for grasping this golden opportunity!

The catch of course is that the concert she wanted to see was already long sold out!

The group, or duo I suppose, is called “Belle and Sebastian” and I’ve never heard of them. Neither had Hans, so we sought Google’s help. I guess MagicFM don’t play their music.

I now know that their latest single is called “Funny Little Frog” which now classifies me as a bit of an expert.

Hans didn’t know where to turn for tickets, so again I stepped in to offer him my help.

Never fear, DL is here!

I tracked down a pair of tickets to this sold out show via a ticket broker I found online. They cost a fair bit more than the actual price on the ticket and I knew Hans couldn’t afford them, so I paid for them myself and gave them to him. He refused at first, but I insisted!

There was no way I was going to let him fall down at the last hurdle just because he didn’t have enough dosh! What are friends for? I was happy to help Hans out! I can’t wait for a full report from him on how it went, when I see him this Monday!

My other act of heroism that has everyone in the office practically giving me standing ovations every time I pass by is this: I clinched that big deal we were bidding on! Result! Again!

Our client had asked for more time to make up their minds about our proposal and that got me thinking. I wondered what the last-minute hitch was.

I contacted the senior manager at the client’s office directly and asked him to meet me for a pint at a pub I know near their offices.

Over our bitter and Ploughman’s, I managed to get the low-down on what was really going on.

It seems our competition, while not pitching their proposal as well as we did, had one distinct advantage; they were offering my new friend, the senior manager, a bit of a private gift.

This additional factor made their offer far more attractive to him, but he was having a hard time convincing his colleagues to go with the other firm.

The gift?

A 32-inch plasma screen tv, delivered discreetly to his home.

As I said, life is simple.

The promise of a top of the line, 40-inch, Sony Bravia, delivered even more discreetly and the problem was solved and the deal was sealed. Plus my new friend got to create the illusion of deferring to the greater collective wisdom of his staff and co-workers. Everybody wins!

All it took was an extra 8 inches! You can make up your own dick joke again, I just can’t be arsed.

Later that day, the MD got the call that the contract was ours! And guess who was singled out as the “king of closers”?

I bet you got it on the first try!

Later on, I let the MD in on our little secret that for a paltry two grand, this very lucrative contract was now ours. He was most impressed!

As the news came unexpectedly, we weren’t able to celebrate properly on the day. Instead, there’s quite a big bash planned for Friday evening. I can’t really go because my ex-wife is dropping off my little girl on Friday evening.

Though if “Jenny” and I are back from Manchester early enough, I’ll try to make a brief appearance. As the man of the hour, I expect everyone is going to want to toast me as much as they want to toast our success! It would be good to show my face, if only for a short time.

But by far, my finest moment, my true achievement and crowning glory of the past week occurred last Thursday night when I pulled off a rather nasty, yet effective revenge stunt on my email stalker.

As I’m sure you recall, I’ve had some mad woman virtually stalking me with emails for weeks now, with no sign of any end. Actually, the frequency and intensity of her messages was increasing daily!

I encountered this woman through one of my adverts on craigslist and quickly established that she wasn’t the sort I would want to meet. I was polite about it, but explained that I didn’t think it was a good idea and thought that the matter was finished.

I was wrong.

Since then I’ve been bombarded daily with email messages, thankfully to an account I consider disposable, that range from the downright sleazy to out and out scary and somewhat threatening! For ages, I didn’t reply to a single one.

Finally, I decided I had enough and it was time to teach this psycho bitch a lesson! I enlisted Hans for a little assistance and set about putting my plan into motion.

I emailed her back with a convincing story to explain why I hadn’t responded to her messages and told her I was flattered by all of her attention. Baiting the hook was easy.

Next, I got her to send me some photos of herself, something I don’t normally do. She quickly complied, supplying me with face shots and a couple of full body nudes. She’s actually quite a hottie, even if she is insane!

Her email address included her real name, she had already sent me her landline and mobile phone numbers and now I had pictures of her. I was all set.

I explained to her that we couldn’t meet at my place and it would have to be a hotel. Then, I asked her if she would take care of booking the room.

She balked at this initially, but I explained that I had some credit problems, but could easily pay for the room in cash when we checked out. All she would need to do is guarantee the room with her credit card. She bought the CCJ line without question and relented.

Finally, I arranged for all of this to happen last Thursday night, at a hotel very near my flat. The final piece of the puzzle was in place.

The one thing she told me that I found surprising was that her boyfriend might be suspicious if she stayed out all night. She said she would come up with a convincing excuse and it wouldn’t be a problem.

A boyfriend? On top of all of this stalking, she lives with someone! Oh the poor guy!

Hans and I arrived at the hotel together and quickly split up. I went straight to the hotel bar, while Hans went to reception to sort something out.

The bar was already fairly busy, mainly filled with businessmen and what appeared to be conference attendees. I found a quiet spot in the corner to put my plan into action.

Then, I made the first of three phone calls from my mobile.

I rang the hotel reception and asked for my stalker’s room using her name. They connected me almost instantly and I quickly hung up in case she was still in the room. That confirmed that she had carried through with booking a room in the hotel and was already registered. So far, so good.

Next I scanned the bar, looking for my stalker. I had her face photo with me, just in case, but it turned out I didn’t need it. She was seated at the bar, on her own, occasionally glancing over her shoulder, looking for me.

She didn’t have my photo and as I said, the bar was chock full of loads of other men who could have been me. Average height, average looks, dark suits, you know the type. She didn’t have a chance of spotting me.

Then I made my second call of the night; I phoned my stalker’s mobile just to be doubly sure I had my eye on the right woman. I was ultra discreet when I did this, keeping the phone low against my body when I hit the send button.

I watched her fish around in her handbag and extract her mobile. I rang off before she could properly answer it and I made sure I withheld my number, so she didn’t know who was phoning. That was confirmation enough for me.

I then made my final phone call. It was to Hans, to identify the target to him. With that done, I went to the bar and ordered myself a double whiskey. It cost a bloody fortune, damn hotel prices! It was a tenner! For a whiskey! It’s highway robbery!

With my drink in hand and a vantage point in a quiet corner, I relaxed and let the Hans take over.

His role in all of this was two-fold. First, he brought an envelope to reception and asked them to deliver it my stalker’s room. I gave him a tenner to tip the desk clerk, to make sure this happened quickly.

The second thing he did was wait in the bar for my phone call. Once he received it and knew who the stalker was, he went up to her and told her “some guy” gave him a tenner to deliver an envelope to her. Then he handed her the envelope and went back and sat down.

My stalker tore the envelope open and discovered its contents; a greeting card with the words “Thank You” on the front.

Glued inside, was a small piece of printer paper, cut to fit, with the following printed inside:

“Hi there xxxxx,

As you might have guessed by now, I’m not there. I’m not going to be there. You must be clinically insane if you thought I would meet you anywhere, anytime, ever!

I think you are probably genuinely psychotic and should seek professional help.

Let this be a lesson to you and a costly one. I’m sure a room here isn’t cheap.

Learn to take “no” for an answer!

You.

Stupid.

Bitch!

All the best,
xxxxxxxxxx”

I watched as she read my little note and could see the expression on her face go from neutrally confused to completely enraged in a matter of seconds. This was no slow-burn, but a full on inferno!

She marched over to Hans, who now had the hardest job of all, keeping a straight face when she confronted him. I was close enough that I could just about hear her shouting at him.

First, she accused him of being me but what little common sense she has kicked in and she realised he looked nothing like my description. Mainly Hans is a lot taller and of course, a lot younger.

Then my stalker asked where I was. That, I could hear as she kept repeating “then where is he?”, looking around the bar, asking Hans to point me out.

He didn’t; not so much as even a glance in my general direction. He was perfect! He told her what we agreed he would tell her; that the man who asked him to deliver the envelope, left the bar right after that.

She then asked what he looked like and Hans stuck to our script; average looks, average height, average… you get the idea!

By now, she was livid and her face was bright red with rage. She stormed out of the bar and I followed at a discreet distance.

She went straight to the lifts and got on the first available. I watched the floor indicator tick upwards until it reached the twelfth floor, stop and then returned to reception. She was going back to her room.

And what would she find waiting for her in the room, but the other envelope. And what did she find inside that one?

She found a high quality, full colour print of her nude photo, which clearly showed her face. Printed on the back of the photo were her full name, her mobile number, her landline and a list of email addresses.

Whose email addresses were they?

I have no idea.

I found them all in the headers of the countless stupid email jokes she forwarded me. I’m guessing they are friends, relatives, and work colleagues, perhaps even her live-in boyfriend; probably everyone she knows!

I think the message I sent her was received loud and clear. I haven’t had a single message from her since!

My plan was perfect, executed with military precision and true malice.

Including her personal details and the email addresses on the back of her nude photo was a real masterstroke of ingenuity; my ultimate coup de grace! I’m guessing she didn’t know what hit her!

I thanked Hans for his help; I couldn’t have pulled this off without him! He was great and didn’t ask many questions, but then, that’s what friends do, isn’t it?

And to think my best mate, Bob, told me to leave it alone and forget about my stalker. I’m glad I didn’t follow his advice! Everything she got, she deserved!

And Bob’s also told me that I shouldn’t have the paternity test, but he’s wrong about that too. I need to find out for sure!

I know this post is long and it may seem a little rushed, but I’ve got to catch the train to Manchester shortly.

I’m planning on phoning my contact at the client’s office once we’re on the way, to see if he can meet “Jenny” and I for a drink tonight. If I can get all that sorted quickly, then I’ll have even more time to spend with her!

And it’s not like I could work on this post while I was on the train, sitting next to “Jenny”. I’ll be posting it before I go.

Imagine if I did write all this on the train! What if she glanced at the screen of my PowerBook and read what I’ve written?

If that wouldn’t be the pinnacle of total indiscretion, I don’t know what would be!

Approaching boiling point

2006-01-31T11:44:00.000Z

Doug dropped by my place on Friday night for a visit and a chat about the tv series.

I wasn’t expecting him, he phoned right before he arrived.

It was his first visit to my flat and the first thing he asked me is to show him my Jacuzzi! He didn’t believe I really had one!

Well I do; why would I lie about something like that?

Now he’s seen it for himself. I thought it was a weird thing to request! At least he brought a bottle of whiskey with him. He knew I liked it.

He still hasn’t written the pilot script and instead, he gave me a CD.

On that CD is one song, which he wrote and recorded on GarageBand; a “discreetlondon” theme song for the tv show!

Doug asked me not to put it online, as he says he can’t sing.

He can sing, anyone can sing. He just sings badly.

It doesn’t matter; I wouldn’t know how to share it with you anyway.

What do I need a theme song for? A theme song? For the tv series that’s not even written yet?

It’s just so ridiculous! What is with this guy?

And then, he suggested something that really pissed me right off.

He wants to edit my blog entries before I post them. He says he could tighten them up and he’d even be happy to post them on the blog for me.

No way! Not in a month of Sundays!

I really don’t get this guy! Every time I think something’s going to move forward, it doesn’t! I was so gobsmacked by the whole thing that I didn’t know what to say to him, but now I do!

For fuck’s sake, Doug, I know you read this, so pay close attention!

What I need is for you to write the goddamn scripts for the tv series and then sell it to some channel, any channel. What I need is for you to find me an agent or a book-deal! What I don’t need is a bloody theme song!

I never needed a theme song! Besides, when the time comes, I thought we could get Robbie Williams to do it.

And there’s no chance I’m letting you near this blog!

If you think I’m just going to just hand over the password to you, you’re crazier than I thought! I’m doing quite well on this blog without your help, thank you very much!

If you don’t get your act together soon, I’m going to start looking for another media guy! There, I said it.

I want my big media payday! I know my story is worth something. If you can’t deliver on this, I’m sure someone else will!

So to all my fans; if you have any media connections, or know anyone who does, please get in touch. I may be in the market for someone new to work with fairly soon!

Speaking of things coming to a head; I finally reached my limit with my email stalker. The camel’s back is well and truly broken now!

I’ve put a plan into motion that should bring the entire unhappy episode to a fairly rapid close. I’ve even recruited my friend Hans from work to help me with this plan, though I haven’t told him the specifics yet.

I finally emailed her back, after initially ignoring well over one hundred emails she’s sent me.

I played it perfectly, firstly telling her I hadn’t logged into this email account in a few weeks.

Then I told her how flattered I was when I saw all of her many messages. I said that “she must really need it, if she wants me this badly and I’d have to be a cruel bastard to refuse someone who is so clearly in need.”

I then told her that if she’s still this interested in me and needs the pleasure I could provide so desperately; we need to sort something out quickly.

I then advised her of my very specific requirements, which she would have to fulfil completely before I would consent to meeting her and they were all non-negotiable.

The first thing I asked for is a photo and she sent several, including face-shots and one naked body shot. She’s actually a good-looking hottie, but that doesn’t matter now, as she’s far too mentally unstable to actually meet.

I’ve already got her real name as she uses an email account that has her first and surnames on it. She’s also sent me her phone numbers, both landline and mobile. Combine that with the photos and I’ve actually got a reasonable amount of information on her.

Once I had the photos, the next demand I provided was this: that I wouldn’t let her come to my place. Instead I’ve told her that we need to meet in a hotel and I’ve even suggested one within walking distance of my flat; the Hilton Metropole on Edgeware Road.

The final requirement is the one I’m most concerned about and I haven’t passed it on to my stalker yet.

I want her to book and pay for the hotel room. If she wants me bad enough, she’ll have to agree, as this is a key requirement for my plan to work.

Why?

I’m not telling you, not yet anyway!

If I pull this one off, I expect I won’t hear from this psycho bitch ever again! She won’t fuck with ol’ DL any more!

I’m hoping to execute this inspired scenario sometime this week, hopefully Thursday evening, as long as my stalker is agreeable to my terms. If she’s not, then it’s back to the drawing board to come up with something else.

I haven’t told Hans the full plan either; actually I haven’t told him much yet. Basically I asked him if he’d help me with a little revenge project and I promised him there would be nothing illegal involved. He said he’s happy to help!

I took Hans out on Thursday night and guess where we went? My favourite lap-dancing club!

With Bob pretty much out of the picture thanks to the new lady in his life, I thought it might be fun to invite Hans. He hasn’t lived in London that long and I got the impression he doesn’t have many friends here, so he leapt at the chance when I offered.

Hans’s only requirement is that we stop off at his place on the way, so he could change out of his guard uniform and into his normal clothing, which was reasonable enough.

I got to see Hans’s flat, or rather bed-sit, which was in Shoreditch. It’s a trendy neighbourhood, but his place is really small and if I’m honest, a bit dingy. I guess he can’t make that much dosh working as a security guard, but he says it’s more than he could make back at home, in South Africa.

I decided right then and there that I can never invite Hans back to my place; the contrast between his bed-sit and my luxury flat is too great and I would be too embarrassed for him to see how well I live. Silly, I know, but I don’t want to offend him.

Once Hans got changed, we headed up west to the club in a black cab; my treat. I actually paid for everything because I knew I could afford it more readily than he could. I paid his cover charge, bought all the drinks and treated him to a couple of lap-dances too.

We didn’t head to the back room though, which meant I didn’t get any sex that night. I wasn’t sure if he would be up for that sort of debauchery, so I elected not to show him that side of the club. He’s only twenty-four and I didn’t know how he’d react.

We had a good night, Hans really enjoyed himself and I did too!

I took care of the cover charge and bought the first round, actually I bought all the rounds! I had a double whiskey; Hans stuck to bottle American beer all night.

I don’t know how he can drink that pish; it tastes of nothing but fizzy water!

We both had a couple of lap-dances from a couple of right hotties. Hans chose two different black girls, but I guess coming from South Africa, that’s what he’s used to. I had one white girl and the second one was Asian.

The Asian girl was especially hot. After she danced for me, we chatted a bit. She told me how she’s a real daddy’s girl; he bought her flat for her and her car; only thing is, daddy has no idea she’s stripping in a club for money! She seemed like my kind of discreet bird!

I made a note to keep an eye out for her next time I was at the club as I expect she’d be a right little go’er in the back room!

After the fun and games, Hans and I said our goodbyes outside the club and got separate taxis home in opposite directions.

My cab took a route that partially went up Sussex Gardens and there were whores walking about and I was very briefly tempted to jump out and get sucked off, but the memory of my last attempt is still fresh in my mind. Plus its so cold, without a penis pill, I probably couldn’t have gotten a stiff enough stiffy to do anything!

Hans thanked me again on Friday morning for the night out and we both agreed we should do it again sometime. I should probably invite the MD too, as he hasn’t stopped mentioning our last visit. Maybe I could convince Bob to join us as well, make it a real lads night out!

I’m still coaching Hans in his pursuit of the coffee cart girl, who I’m going to call “Cathy”. “Cathy” the coffee cart girl has been on Hans’s radar for a few weeks now and I’m giving him pointers on how to zero in on her successfully.

I told him to try out one of my best lines on her, but it only works if she gives you the right opening to use it. She hasn’t triggered it yet, but Hans lies with it in wait, like a coiled snake, ready to strike!

The line is this, “Your husband is one lucky guy” and the real trick is to wait for the right cue to use it. Like, if she said, oh I don’t know, “I’m going home tonight and cooking a Shepard’s Pie from scratch”. Then you can say it.

Why do you say this?

Simple, single women are conditioned, almost as a reflex to all answer the same way, which is to quickly declare that they are not married. Unless they are married, in which case you’ve saved yourself some embarrassment!

Once they confirm their single status, it opens up the entire world of possibilities and it instantly establishes the woman’s availability! In other words, the door’s open, but it’s still up to you to stroll on in!

Hans is really into this girl; he’s got a serious case of puppy love! I’ll be happy if I just get him laid, but I’m getting the impression he wants something serious with her!

Poor lad, I’ll have to set him straight at some point. He’s far too young to be thinking about anything like that!

I bought some more of “Wheeler’s” charlie again on Friday, but only two wraps. I know I said I wouldn’t, but I still can’t reach Elvis and I’m really missing the stuff. Well, more like craving it really!

It was speedy, like the last batch, but because I’m aware of that, I was able to adjust my habits and make it more manageable. Basically, I started earlier in the day with it on Friday and stopped in the early evening. On Saturday night, I ended up going a little later with it, but that was fine because I had plenty to keep me busy with!

Other than Doug's unexpected appearance, Friday night was relatively sedate; I watched a bit of tv, surfed the net, especially my new favourite escort site and had a few whiskeys before turning in. I advertised on craigslist and gumtree as well, but without so much as a nibble, literally and figuratively!

Oh and there was no celebration at work on Friday night. The prospective client didn’t say “no” yet, but they haven’t said, “yes” either. What they asked for is another week to think about it.

We agreed. What else could we do? There will be a lot of nails getting bitten in my office again this week!

I think it might be time to properly stick my oar in on this one! It’s crying out for the king of closers!

On Saturday night, I had my first ever blind date from that internet dating site I recently joined and it was quite an experience!

The woman I met from the site comes from Hanwell, in west London, but we agreed to meet in the West End. I chose a restaurant listed in Time Out, which seemed a bit trendy, but not too expensive and we met at the bar there.

She looked as good as her photos, perhaps even better in the flesh and was quite bright and chirpy. She stuck to soft drinks at the bar; I had a couple of whiskeys.

I wasn’t really that hungry, because I’d had a couple of lines prior to meeting her, just to keep me steady. I wasn’t nervous, but I figured every little bit helps!

She was very pleasant company and didn’t talk about her children very much. She has two, both under the age of ten. I didn’t really say much about my daughter either, but you all know why that is.

She was easy to be with and the meal passed quite quickly. I had some Sea Bass thing, which I didn’t like very much. What is fenugreek, anyway?

While we were getting along very well, I wouldn’t say there was much in the way of overt flirtation or any genuine expectation of any sort of action. That said, the night was still young, so I suggested we go back to my place for a nightcap. She agreed.

After a short taxi ride, we were at my front door. I could tell she was impressed with the building and my keyless front door entry system. When we reached the flat, she went straight for the double doors, leading out to the balcony and peered at my view.

I offered her a drink again, which she initially declined, but after a little prodding, relented. I brought her a double brandy and I had another whiskey. I switched on MagicFM and then I excused myself to the loo.

Why?

For a quick blast of charlie, of course! This woman is a school teacher and a mother, I didn’t know if she would approve of my secret stash of cocaine and decided to get to know her better before revealing it to her.

I also took an Erectalis, just in case. It never hurts to be prepared.

When I returned, “Tanya” the teacher thrust her empty glass towards and requested a refill. I quickly fetched it and she downed it in one right in front of me and asked for another. I could do anything but refuse!

I was getting the impression that my new friend might be a bit of a lush. She sank half of the third drink and then nursed the rest for a little while before asking for a fourth.

Finally, I joined her on the sofa, sitting right next to her. She put her drink down on the glass coffee table, and then turned towards me. Before I knew it; our lips were locked in a passionate kiss!

She was all over me like a bad rash, not that I was complaining or asking for some lotion! I was well enjoying it! I think it must have been the booze that got her going, before that I had no idea she was this attracted to me.

Things got very steamy on my sofa in no time; her passion and intensity were very impressive indeed. As you can imagine, my cock was standing at attention and it didn’t escape hers. She started rubbing it through my trousers.

Now, I’m not shy, so I undid my trousers for her and freed my beast. She wrapped her hand around the base while kissing me and gave it a good, firm, squeeze. Then, as if she couldn’t help herself, she took it in her mouth and started sucking on it like a woman possessed!

“Tanya’s” head bobbed up and down rapidly, taking more of my meat on each downstroke. I could feel the tension increasing inside me in all the right places. She knew what she was doing! Or so I thought!

As I approached the point of no return, and quite quickly as it was my first orgasm of the night, I warned her, but she continued undeterred.

I let loose in her mouth and she didn’t lose a drop. She swallowed it all, and then quickly washed it down with what was left of her brandy.

I took a moment a moment to catch my breath, while “Tanya” composed herself. Something had changed; I could feel it.

She apologised, saying she didn’t know what had come over her. I did, me!

She said she had to leave, she didn’t even ask to use the loo. Within ninety seconds or so of sucking me off, she had her coat and shoes back on and she was straight out my front door!

I was left stunned by this sudden departure, especially since the Erectalis had me ready for round two. And I wanted a round three, four and five, with the option of a sixth in the morning! Even though she brought me off the once, I was still left with a serious case of blue balls!

It still wasn’t that late and I was quite awake, so I logged onto that website to look for another playmate to see out the rest of the evening.

I did a few different searches, before retreating to my “hotlist” to book one I already had my eye on.

This week’s weird discovery: A2M.

What’s A2M?

It stands for “anal to mouth” and it’s bareback anal sex followed by fellatio without a wipe-off or rinse-down. Gross! And it costs extra!

Where do these people come up with this stuff?

I ended up booking a really hot twenty-five year old escort, for a two-hour session for two hundred and fifty quid, all in. Not a bad deal at all.

“Coffee” arrived around ninety minutes after our initial contact, looking piping hot! She was mixed race, slim and buxom and dark hair with blonde-highlights.

Because it was late, I told her to dress casually and she was wearing a pair of tight jeans, stilettos, a long-sleeved tee shirt and a very long, black coat. Why force her to make an effort when I was just going to strip her right off as soon as walked through the door.

We took care of business, then I asked her if she’d like to join me in the Jacuzzi. “Coffee” jumped at the chance for a bit of a roiling boil in the hot tub.

I filled the whirlpool and had my last line of the night after making “Coffee” a drink, vodka and coke, er Coca Cola.

Once the tub was filled, I invited her into the master bedroom and told her she could disrobe. She kicked off her heels, slipped out of the jeans and cast off the tee shirt, revealing her hot body. She was braless and only wearing a tiny thong. It was enough to get my motor running again.

I led her into the bathroom and switched on the pump, making the water bubble and swirl. She slipped off her thong, revealing her perfectly bare pussy.

I prefer trimmed to hairless, but trust me, it doesn’t matter that much!

I slipped off my charcoal grey robe and slipped into the tub beside her. I knew this was going to be good! I was ready to positively percolate with “Coffee”.

We started kissing and it was much different from kissing “Tanya”. There was far less desperation in “Coffee’s” technique, which was slower and more deliberate as if she wanted me to savour the experience. Oh, I did!

I was fully hard in milliseconds and “Coffee” slipped her delicate hand around my shaft. I got up and sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi, letting “Coffee” get up between my legs so she could take care of my little raging friend.

Again, her technique was far better than “Tanya’s” and seemed to be more for my pleasure than her own. As it should be this time, since I was paying!

Because I’d already popped once, it took a while for me to cum again, which meant “Coffee” really had to work at it. She didn’t seem to mind and before long she was really giving it to me good. When I got close, “Coffee” could sense it and backed off at just the right moment to miss my cream.

Hey, I don’t mind where I cum, just as long as I do!

We both rinsed off in the shower together, then we dried off and moved to the bed where I fucked her twice. The first time it was doggy-style, the second time she got on top and straddled my shaft. With condoms both times, I might add!

It was another good punt, “Coffee” was friendly, sexy and agreeable and it wasn’t that expensive either. This new escort website is really working out well for me; I don’t even bother looking any place else anymore.

I eventually fell asleep deeply exhausted and fully satisfied.

On Sunday, I had a decent lie-in before the telephone woke me up. It was Bob, asking me to join him for brunch before he met his special lady. I jumped at the chance, since I haven’t seen him that much recently.

While I was getting ready, the telephone rang again. I’m not normally this popular on a Sunday morning!

It was “Tanya”, phoning to apologise, not just for her sudden departure but also for going down on me. That’s not how she described it; she called it her “unexpected performance”.

She said that she shouldn’t really drink because a little bit of booze turns her into a “wild woman”. And all I could think is, how is this a bad thing for me?

I agreed I wouldn’t hold her behaviour against her and we agreed to see each other again later this week, perhaps Friday.

Why not? I enjoyed myself with her on Saturday. Plus I feel I owe her some oral sex, to return the favour she granted me on Saturday night. It’s only fair she gets the full discreetlondon treatment after blowing me!

And I’ll make sure she has a few drinks before hand, just in case!

Brunch isn’t really a meal; I tried to tell Bob this when we met up on Sunday. It’s some things you’d eat for breakfast, others you might have for lunch, plus booze and that’s it.

My sore head didn’t mind the drink actually, it helped get rid of my slight headache. Plus, I woke up and found a little blood again when I blew my nose. I’m guessing it’s a combination of the cold weather and the cocaine, but it wasn’t as bad as the last time.

Bob and I had a good chat, he told me a bit more about his new lady friend, I told him about Doug’s latest antics and I filled him in on the email stalker.

I described my revenge plan and his advice was to “just leave it”, but I’m not going to do that. This psycho bitch is going to get everything she deserves!

Bob was oddly silent on the subject of Doug. I guess he feels responsible because he indirectly hooked me up with Doug through a mate of his. If things don’t work out with Doug, it won’t be Bob’s fault. No, it will be Doug’s!

I also finally had the chance to tell Bob about my recent suspicions regarding my daughter. He told me I was crazy! I don’t know how he could say that with my wife’s track record!

Bob said I should just let it go and accept that she’s mine once and for all. Some of my fans have emailed with the same advice.

But I decided that’s not how I’m going to play this. That’s not the kind of guy I am. I deserve to know the truth; I need to know it just for my own peace of mind.

I’m going to look into how to get a DNA test. I just can’t let these doubts drive me insane any longer!

Better than ever, or just better

2006-01-25T11:24:00.000Z

I’m still being stalked and I don’t like it.

The email harassment continues at an alarming rate. I’m receiving four or five messages daily. The tone has changed as well, from slightly off to aggressive and extremely unstable. Basically, it’s gone from bad to just plain scary!

If all this wasn’t anonymous, I’d be very tempted to go to the police!

Thankfully, my internet stalker doesn’t have any of my real-life details; otherwise I really would be concerned. If she had my address, I’d be tempted to just move house!

I originally got in touch with her from one of my internet contact adverts and as we corresponded, I had a funny feeling about her and I told her I wouldn’t meet her.

Since then, she hasn’t left me alone! I haven’t responded to any of her messages, not since I told her I wasn’t going to meet her. Her emails are progressively getting weirder and nastier, with a mix of cruel insults peppered with sexual come-ons. It really is quite disquieting.

I’ve counted; we exchanged precisely six emails in both directions before I told her to forget it. Six emails! That means, I only sent three!

She’s sent me over one-hundred now! Where does she find the time?

What’s worse is she keeps quoting my emails back to me, especially the rude bits where I was offering to lick her clit into oblivion!

What can I say? I like going down on women! It’s hardly a secret!

I’ve been tempted, very tempted, at times to write her back and tell her to fuck off or even a polite, “leave me alone”, but I have a feeling that would only increase her interest and abuse. She’s trying to get a reaction from me, any reaction. At this point, I don’t think there’s anything I could do to discourage her.

I’m mulling over having some fun with her instead, but not my usual discreet kind. I’ve got some ideas how I can play enough games with my stalker to put her off ever bothering me (or anyone else!) ever again. I know I shouldn’t, but it would be so easy to wind her up and screw her over.

Maybe I should, after all; she’s certainly earned it!

Remember, she doesn’t have any of my real-life details. Actually, fans of my blogs probably know more about me than she does and you don’t actually know that much, do you?

I think it might be time for me to teach this psycho bitch a lesson!

And speaking of my many fans, thanks to all of you who emailed with your kind wishes after my last entry. I certainly didn’t mean to cause anyone any concerns and I’m fine now.

You can tell who your real fans are; they are the ones that genuinely care! I could feel the love!

I found out why I was so anxious and restless and not sleeping; the cocaine from my new source isn’t pure; it was cut with “speed”.

Now I’ve ever had “speed” before and I’m unfamiliar with it, but I’ve learned the hard way just how much I don’t like it. It keeps you awake in a very big way!

I got this coke from a guy I work with that I’m calling “Wheeler” the dealer; he’s not my usual source.

I confronted him about it and he reluctantly admitted that his gear is cut with a bit of “speed”, but he said his customers prefer the buzz that way.

I can’t see how that would be true; coke from my other source, Elvis, is much cleaner and better in my opinion. I’m hardly an expert; I haven’t been using it that long; around a year, maybe less.

Bob figured it out straight away that it was that batch of cocaine causing me trouble. He dropped by on the Sunday, that weekend when I couldn’t sleep, for a visit.

I told him how I was feeling and he immediately guessed that it might have been the drugs. He had a little taste and as soon as he did, he confirmed there was an extra ingredient in the mix. Bob knows about these things.

I wanted to see Elvis to get some of his better (and cheaper) charlie, but I wasn’t able to reach him. It wasn’t because he was busy, but because I lost his phone number! I couldn’t believe it when I realised this!

Remember I was mugged on New Year’s Eve? I certainly haven’t forgotten!

Well, in addition to my cash, the mugger got my mobile phone as well. The only place I had Elvis’s number was in the memory of that phone so I’m fucked.

The phone that was stolen was a pay-as-you-go, so I can’t even check my monthly bill for his number. I’m stuffed!

I met Elvis through a high-class escort last year and I thought I could ring her for his number, but her number was also in the same phone.

It’s so long ago, I can’t remember which website I booked her from, and so I really have no way to track her down to get his number either.

Even worse, the only number Elvis has for me is, you guessed it, my stolen mobile, so he has no way to reach me either. I owe Elvis five hundred quid, so hopefully he’ll drop by to see me at some point and I can sort out this messy inconvenience.

This is a real problem for me as I’m now out of charlie. I’ve gotten used to having it around and a socially busy weekend is fast approaching. I guess I could get more of “Wheeler’s”. Now that I know its speed too, I could just not use it so late at night. That might be my only real solution!

Last week was quite a hectic week for me at work, my first since I started the new job. That’s part of the reason I didn’t post another entry last week. This week is like the previous weeks and I’ve got sweet F-A to do.

Last week, I went on my first big sales call with a slew of co-workers plus I made my first executive appointment! I’m starting to feel like I’m properly a sales director now!

The sales call was the final pitch for a very big contract that my firm has been working on for a while. It involves one of the most elaborate websites designs I’ve ever seen, not that I’m an expert.

It’s got flash elements, scripts and java applets incorporated in the site and I just wish I knew what those things were!

The Creative Director led our team during the presentation along with members of his staff. My sales team, led by me, were there to offer whatever support we could. He didn’t need much; he’s quite a showman.

This took place in a plush conference room at the client’s office and they had a team of people at the presentation as well. All told, there were probably over twenty people in the room, making it the largest sales presentation I’ve ever attended.

The presentation was expensive, with animated graphics, video clips and mock-ups of the website we’re offering to design and I think it was effective.

The CD, as much as he is a twat, actually seems to know what he’s doing. Yes, he did blind them with lots of marketing speak and buzz words, but our product spoke for itself too.

I think the clients were impressed. I didn’t contribute much, just a key mention that our rates were negotiable, which was about all I could chime in with.

I didn’t mind since I still get my massive commission whether I contribute anything or not; that is assuming they sign on the dotted line! I’m good at reading people, especially in sales situations and I think we have this contract in the bag!

What was completely tedious was the lengthy and pointless de-brief following the meeting. Basically, the same group of people from my firm that attended the presentation, returned to the office, went straight to our conference room and re-hashed the entire meeting, for two hours! The MD even joined us for the tail end of the meeting, but he didn’t say a word.

And guess who insisted on this nonsense? The CD. God, he’s a twat!

But that’s not the interesting thing that happened to me while I was visiting my client’s office. No, what was interesting is that when we arrived, I noticed what the receptionist was reading on her PC screen.

This very blog!

I know; I was shocked too!

I know this a Blogger blog, with a theme and colours chosen from a limited palette, but I can promise you it was my blog!

I was able to read some of it and they were my words on the screen! I nearly burst out laughing, but held it in or it would have meant a lot of explaining that I’m unwilling to do!

Not only that, but the receptionist was a right hottie!

If I thought she would have believed me, I would have told her I was discreetlondon and then offered her the full discreetlondon treatment right then and there!

What hot female fan would refuse an offer like that? It was still too risky a game to play.

All I could do was wonder if she really was a big fan, just a casual visitor or someone who someone stumbled upon this site.

I also wondered if she thought about what she read when she got home at night, or even if she snuck off to the office loos for a quick fumble in her knickers. I’ll never know, but my imagination can have a field day!

So if you’re a receptionist and you enjoy my blog, there’s a very good chance I was standing in front of your desk last week, staring at your cleavage and you didn’t even know it!

You still don’t, not for sure!

My fan base is always growing! I just didn’t expect to come face-to-face with one! The whole thing was quite simply, surreal.

The prospective clients said they would get back to us before the close of play at the end of this week, so everyone in my office is on edge waiting for their final answer. I’ve had a couple of follow-up calls on the terms of the contract and our rates, which I’ve fielded with aplomb.

There’s a big celebration party planned if this deal comes off and even better, I’m in line for a rather sizable bonus. The MD told me it was already in the budget before I joined, so I might as well take it.

Who am I to argue with logic like that?

Never forget, I’m a shit-hot salesman and deserve every pound they pay me! I’m the king of closers! So I’m not going to let this massive deal slip away!

I’m also a brilliant boss. Now that I’ve made my first executive appointment, no one can dispute my managerial abilities!

My department had a vacancy for a senior sales executive and the two candidates were both junior sales execs in the department already. The competition was between the very sexy and sexually available “Jenny” and the frumpy, yet very qualified “Ginny”.

Per the human resources department, I followed the company’s appointment procedures to the letter. That included separate, formal interviews for each candidate, conducted by me with an HR person in attendance as well.

We did “Jenny” last Tuesday and “Ginny’s” interview was on the Wednesday and I announced my decision on the Thursday.

It was really no contest at all; one of them was very well prepared and put her case across for the position in a very clear, concise way. The other simply thought that offering to sleep with me would be enough to secure the job.

Ordinarily, that approach would have worked, but I thought this time, I need to be professional.

“Jenny” came in for her interview dressed to the nines. She was wearing a very tight black jacket and slacks combination that only accentuated her perfect breasts and pinch-able bum. Her blouse was more low-cut than usual and she really has an exquisite set of tits.

I’ve quietly been finding out more about her; her husband is a highly paid city trader or something, so she doesn’t need to work. It’s a hobby job; plus she’s a prolific shagger and has had quite a few affairs in the office and out. She’s my kind of bird!

“Ginny” on the other hand, arrived for her interview in yet another floral print dress, buttoned up to her neck. She looked like she stepped out of the fifties.

As a token gesture, she put on some dark red lipstick, the only make-up I’ve ever seen her wear. She’s on the tall side, thin and quite flat-chested; you wouldn’t give her a second look if you saw her.

The rumour is she’s a virgin and based on my observations, I think that’s probably true. That said; she’s a fucking hard worker. My impression is that her job is pretty much her life.

I tried to keep an open mind in both interviews and weigh each candidate’s relative merits based on their responses to the same list of questions.

“Jenny” certainly presents herself in a confident, self-assured manner, but the substance of her answers was sorely lacking. The only time “Ginny” really sparkled was when she was answering specific questions and her responses were textbook perfect.

Objectively, it really was no contest.

“Ginny” was thrilled when I told her the job was hers. I think she might have hugged me when I told her the good news, if she wasn’t so uptight! Giving the job to her really was the right decision. She’s going to do a bang-up job; I have high hopes for her!

“Jenny” didn’t take it so well but tried very hard not to show it. I think she was confused that her sexual charms weren’t enough to win the day; I don’t think she’s accustomed to her feminine wiles letting her down.

I told both women the outcome separately and tried to give them some advice and encouragement.

For “Ginny”, that meant trying to diplomatically as possible, point her in the direction of a complete makeover. She needs a new hairstyle, new clothes, and new make-up, even a boob job. The works!

Of course, I couldn’t say any of that; certainly not in such a direct and blunt manner. Instead, I let her know that now she’s an executive; she needs to look the part.

I don’t think “Ginny” really got what I was trying to tell her, so I’ve asked my assistant, Terry to have a word. If anyone will know how to get the point across its Terry and I bet he could even give her the entire makeover himself!

My advice to “Jenny” was more interesting, as I told her she has plenty of potential and could have a great future in my department.

Further to that, I told her I wanted to make her my protégé and that the next senior sales vacancy, should she follow my advice, could be her’s for the taking.

Hey, I’m not stupid! “Jenny” is hot, hot, HOT and I’m going to get some! I didn’t say I’d never sleep with her, did I? I just made sure having sex with her didn’t interfere with the selection process.

And it didn’t, did it? Everything will be on my terms.

In around a fortnight, I’ve got to go to Manchester to see another client and I’m bringing “Jenny” along for the ride. Just because I didn’t let her sleep her way into this promotion, doesn’t mean I won’t let her earn the next one in all sorts of delightful ways!

We’re in a bit of a dispute with a firm up there and I’ve drawn the short straw and have to go deal with it. With “Jenny” accompanying me, perhaps my straw is longer than I thought.

Insert your own dick joke here, I can’t think of one. I shouldn’t make jokes anyway.

I’m still coaching my friend Hans, the security guard in his pursuit of the coffee-cart girl. With me guiding him, he can’t go wrong!

Hans is a really nice guy from South Africa who’s over here working as a guard in my building. He’s probably the person I’m friendliest with in the at my office, which you might find strange, since I’m an executive and he’s just a guard, but he’s a good guy.

He’s got a major crush on that hot Australian girl who works on the coffee cart in reception. I don’t blame him; she’s so hot she’s smoking! If she wasn’t so damn young, I might even take a punt myself!

She’s blonde, naturally, with a tight, firm body and she wears lots of crop-tops, which expose her flat belly and pierced navel, even in this weather.

What it is about those belly button rings that drive me crazy?

Everything about women drives me crazy! I’m just easy, but at least I’m not cheap!

My friend Hans is quite shy when it comes to women. It’s quite sweet really, he doesn’t even like coffee, yet every day he buys himself a latte just so he can have an excuse to chat with her! Bless!

I’ve decided to make getting Hans into bed with the hot Aussie babe my personal project. We’re playing a long game, but I’m not going to rest until he’s pulled her. Maybe it’s just my way of seducing her by proxy?

What Hans needs is confidence and if I can help him to gain some, especially with the ladies, it will be a good deed, indeed!

That doesn’t mean I’m neglecting my own love life, far from it. Actually, I’m planning on kicking it into overdrive!

As threatened, I registered myself on a proper internet dating site. As is my way, I won’t mention the site I’m using by name, but its part of a major internet portal, lets you search for women by postcode and it looks pretty damn good.

I’ve filled out a full profile, complete with a photograph, which is very unusual for me. Actually, I think it’s the first time I’ve ever uploaded a photo of myself online anywhere!

However, since I’m nearly divorced and it’s a traditional site, I don’t feel I’ve got anything to hide or be embarrassed about, unlike many of my other online activities, which I prefer to keep private.

Private except for my blog, where I share all my deepest secrets!

Anyway, there’s no stigma attached to internet dating these days, or so I read in the paper recently.

I’m taking it slow, checking out the available talent on the site, sniffing out the genuine hotties.

I’ve fired off a couple of emails and have only had one response so far.

If doing this is anything like my sleazy sites, the men will outnumber the women rather significantly, so I’m not expecting to be overwhelmed with replies.

That one response though, has yielded a dinner date for this Saturday night, which is another reason why I want to score some more coke!

The woman I’m taking to dinner is thirty-five and divorced with two young children. She’s a teacher at a local comprehensive in west London and is looking for a serious relationship.

I don’t know if I’m looking for another serious relationship right now, but something on going would be good. At least if I was in a relationship of some sort, I could get back to cheating outrageously, which is what I do best!

This woman is quite attractive in a middle-class, married young and irresponsibly kind of way. I’m looking forward to meeting her in person, she’s not really what I’m used to, but I’d do her.

I’d do anyone! I probably even do you!

We had a long, friendly chat on the telephone and I could tell she had a sense of humour. Either that or she pretended to laugh at my jokes. Either way, I have a good feeling about her.

Bob’s still seeing that divorced woman from Chelsea. He won’t admit it, but I think it’s getting serious. He’s with her nearly all time. I still haven’t met her, but I hope to one day. Maybe if I have a proper, respectable girlfriend we could all go out together.

It’s weird to think that I’m thirty-nine years old and embarking on the road to dating. Or an even more frightening prospect; that I could end up in another serious relationship!

I’m not even completely out of the one I was in! My damn (nearly) ex-wife still hasn’t filed for the decree absolute! I really need to get her moving.

I’m addicted to that new website I’ve mentioned. I’ve been checking it everyday, though I haven’t booked anyone else from it yet. I will, though.

The site is amazing; it’s probably the best website I’ve ever visited! I’ve already placed my second order for Erectalis and I’m just so drawn into the escort listings that I find myself logging onto it several times a day.

They make it easy for you to search through their database of whores with all sorts of criteria, from location, to physical description and even the specific services they provide.

My favourite search is a simple one, I select the following categories: women; escorts; will travel; in London and available NOW.

I think that’s the clincher, the immediacy of it all. This search generates a list of women who could visit right then and there, complete with photos and some of them nude!

Sometimes when I’m sitting at my desk at work and I do this search, I imagine booking one to come and see me in the office.

I could ask the prossie to dress smart and professionally, then just drop the blinds on my glass wall, lock the door and get blown! I could really do this!

I could get discreetly sucked off while my entire department sat outside, oblivious to my discreet adventures and no one would ever be the wiser!

The temptation may become so great that I’ll have to do it!

The other search is similar to the previous one, but I don’t select the “available now” option.

What I do to make this second search more interesting is that I filter the results so the most recently registered prossies on the site come up at the top of the list. This is the best way to keep track of the newest whores who’ve joined the site and every day there’s a few more new ones to choose from!

I’ve set up a “hotlist” on this site, to keep track of them all, which is another cool feature. Basically it’s like bookmarking and consists of all the hotties I’m hoping to shag in the not too distant future and continues to grow!

Sometimes I just log in and look at my selected group of personal favourites and imagine how good it will be as I work my way through each and every one of them!

And yes, I’ve had to nip off to the office loos more than once just to wank myself senseless because of these discreet dreams.

There are literally hundreds of hot, horny whores to choose from and every week, I seem to make a new bizarre discovery.

After “hardsports” (yuck!), and last week’s identical twins, this week’s find is possibly the most bizarre. I stumbled upon a woman who, for a limited time, is offering her services as a “lactating mother”.

I’ll admit it, I had to Google “lactating” to discover it’s meaning. It turns out it means when a woman is breast-feeding and “expressing” milk.

That’s a new one on me too, “expressing” milk.

You’d think with my ex-wife breastfeeding my daughter, I might know a bit more about this subject, but I don’t. I guess it only shows just how little a part I’m playing in both their lives.

But by far the scariest part of my search was that I had to go to the second page of the results to discover this common definition.

Why?

Simple, because the first page of results was wall-to-wall lactation porn!

Sorry, but I don’t find anything sexy about human breast milk. Call me old fashioned but they idea of tasting it kind of puts me off me dinner, if you know what I mean!

My other observation this week is that it’s amazing to me how many women are signing up to provide sexual services.

I suppose it’s easy enough to set yourself up this way. All you need are some revealing photos, the number to your local mini-cab office and the willingness to shag strangers for dosh.

Fill out the form, register as a service provider and suddenly you are your own independent, tax-free business!

You know the old joke about prostitution that goes something like this:

An older whore is explaining to a younger whore why it’s such a great profession. She said, “You got it. Then you sell it. But you’ve still got it! It’s the perfect product!”

As a salesman, I do appreciate the common sense here.

There are so many women just giving it away, it only makes sense that the smart one’s wise-up and realise that they can still have their fun and make some dosh at the same time.

Thanks to this website, anyone with the desire can be up and running and in business in no time! It’s really made it easier for the amateurs to go pro!

And I have to say again that I find it extremely distressing that so many women on this particular site, especially the younger, newer whores, are offering “bareback” sex.

This is so stupid and it makes me so angry, I could scream!

Look, if you happen to be one of these prossies who’s doing it without a johnny or you know one, or one offers you a bareback ride, do me a big fucking favour please! Tell them to stop! It’s dangerous and no shag is ever worth dying for, ever!

Not even with that hottie from Big Brother last summer, Sam Heuston, would I consider unsafe sex. Unless we both went and got an AIDS test, and passed it with flying colours!

I don’t care who you are; or how safe and clean you think you are; use a goddamn rubber!

And that my friends, ends my public service announcement!

There’s one thing that’s continued to trouble me greatly. I’m talking about the situation with my daughter.

I guess that’s why I’ve saved it till the end of this entry. I’ve put it off as long as I could, but I can’t “not” mention it, can I?

Specifically, I’m starting to deeply wonder if I’m really her father. I haven’t seen her again since the post-Christmas visit and my wife hasn’t seemed keen to let me have her again. Well, we have nothing planned at the moment, but it’s not for my lack of trying.

I think I was so excited at finding out I was father; so over the moon thrilled, that I had overlooked this plausible possibility.

I want to thank one of my regular fans that got in touch and suggested a paternity test. Thank you, mate! Though, if I’m honest, the thought had crossed my mind already.

The problem with having a DNA test done is a simple one; I’ll find out the truth.

And if it turns out the truth is that I’m not her father, well, I think I’ll just be devastated!

I love that little girl so much it hurts! She has to be mine; she just has to!

Is my wife really that downright scummy that she would try to fool me again? I don’t know if I want to know the answer to this one either!

I’m sorry; this is really hard for me to think about and even harder to write about.

I’m in my office right now and I’m actually getting a bit choked up. I really can’t let that happen here, so I think I’ll bring this entry to a rapid close.

Oddly awake at all hours

2006-01-15T04:42:00.000Z

It’s Saturday night.

No scratch that, it’s Sunday morning now.

I haven’t been to bed yet and I hardly slept last night too. I’m not sure what’s going on with me; I don’t normally suffer from insomnia.

I finished work on Friday evening and came straight home. I had a couple of lines from my new stash and a few drinks, and then I hit the internet in search of some seriously sexy fun!

While I failed to connect with anyone last night, I did pull tonight, but more on that later.

Last night, I wasted a lot of time corresponding with time-wasters!

Even worse, I think I’m being stalked online! At least it’s not anyone who reads my blog!

The adverts I’ve been running this week have attracted lots of replies; far more than I’ve had recently.

My guess is that people’s lives are finally settling down following the holidays, which means more women are around for my kind of discreet fun. That’s a good thing!

I’ve been swapping emails with a few women this week, one of which I met tonight, but she’s not the one stalking me.

No, the one stalking me is a woman I told I was never going to meet and since then, she hasn’t left me alone.

My new stalker replied to my “oral available” advert, which remains my most successful online approach to date. In the ad, I make a simple offer; to go down on any woman, discreetly, anonymously and without strings. It’s an offer that many women can’t seem to pass by, at least in terms of the amount of replies I receive.

Not everyone who emails plans on actually meeting me; I figured that out quite a while ago. Some are merely testing the waters, to see if I’m real, others just want to exchange emails until they have enough wank-material to bring themselves off. And the minority, well they are the ones I get to meet!

This woman who is stalking me online gave me a very weird vibe.

I have a simple rule; if it doesn’t feel right, I walk away. Something was definitely not right with this woman, so I politely told her I didn’t think it was a good idea that we meet.

I’ve turned down women before. I expect this might be shocking to you, but sometimes you can tell that it’s not going to be a good experience and that was my feeling in this case. I thanked her for emails; I really was nice about it.

What set off the alarm bells?

Simple, she kept asking odd questions and dismissing my simple rules for meeting. There are certain things I just won’t compromise on.

For example, I don’t exchange photos, ever; at least not if it is someone from Gumtree or craigslist. Also, I don’t give out my address until the last minute and I don’t like meeting people in public.

My way of meeting is simple; I give the woman a rough idea where my place is, then at a pre-agreed time, I ring her on her mobile phone and direct her to my door. The spot I send them to is visible from my flat, so I can see that they are really outside, before directing them to my building and then my bed.

I came up with this system when I was living with my wife for obvious discreet reasons and have stuck with it ever since. It works. She didn’t like this plan either.

I’m easy, if you don’t want to play by my rules, we can both find alternative playmates. For women, finding another guy to meet is a right piece of piss. Unfortunately, she didn’t see it that way.

After I told her we would not be meeting, her tone went from somewhat demanding to viciously nasty. She started behaving like she was doing me a favour by relenting and agreeing to my terms after the fact.

I sent her one last email, again explaining that meeting would be a bad idea and then I left it and have not written to her since.

My new stalker hasn’t stopped sending me emails. At last count, I’ve had around forty messages from her since I sent my final response.

Forty! In just a few days! For fuck’s sake!

The emails have an edgy tone that I find a bit distressing. This woman is obviously mentally unstable or she would have simply moved on by now.

She’s been begging to meet me, insulting me, threatening me and most annoyingly, she’s been forwarding me stupid email jokes with massive files attached.

You know the sort of emails I mean, the kind stupid idiots forward you all the time with lame jokes or photos or video clips. It’s like spam for the ignorant!

Take a hint from DL; don’t forward stupid emails to anyone. If you haven’t originated the joke or photo yourself, don’t waste someone else’s time by sending it to them and clogging up their email accounts!

My stalker is sending me all these emails to try to get a reaction from me, but I’m starving her of oxygen. There’s nothing she can say or do that will inspire me to reply again!

You know what would happen if I replied, even to tell her to fuck off and go to hell, don’t you? She would just send me even more emails and I’m already getting over a dozen a day! I just want her to stop!

She’s only got one of my throw-away email account addresses that I use specifically for online activities of the discreet kind, so I might just abandon it. I change web-based email accounts the way most people change their minds!

It always pays to be discreet!

To be honest, I think I keep checking it just to see if she’s continuing to harass me. No matter how many times a day I login, there’s always at least one message from her and frequently more!

I know it’s only been a few days, but the intensity and ferocity of her messages is a bit frightening! But I’m quite intuitive and smart and I always trust my gut instincts where women are concerned and haven’t been wrong yet!

If anything, turning her down only confirms my excellent judgement!

Just imagine if this nutter did come to see me and knew where I lived! She’d be showing up here at my flat at all hours, demanding the full discreetlondon treatment! Or worse! Possibly much worse!

I think I’ve dodged a real bullet this time; she’s mad as a hatter!

I don’t know what it is, but I’m feeling really anxious as well. It’s nothing to do with my stalker. I’m fairly confident she’ll lose interest or find a new stalking target.

Even sitting here now, I’m tapping my foot, kind of like a nervous tick.

And since I’m wide-awake, I’m still partying. I’ve got a couple of lines laid out on my glass coffee table, some nasty DVD porn running on the plasma screen and I’ve put a serious dent into this bottle of single malt in front of me, but I’m still not sleepy!

Last night, I wrote an entire entry for this blog and then just deleted it because I didn’t like it. I also thought it was too soon to post something else, after my posting on Friday. I think I’m just duplicating what I wrote last night, right now, but with the added bonus of tonight's sexual encounter too!

The woman I met tonight only left a couple of hours ago. I think she wanted to stay over, but I wasn’t in the mood for company that long, or to sleep! She was a bit awkward. I ended up giving her taxi fare just to get her to leave!

I did try to sleep last night; I lay in my bed for hours and hours, but sleep would not come. When it started to get light, I got up, had a line, a coffee and then completely cleaned my flat!

I blitzed the entire place in a very thorough way! It really needed it; the place was a right mess! I haven’t kept up with it very well since I moved in and I still haven’t hired a cleaner.

I saw an advert on craigslist for nude cleaners and I’m tempted to contact them, but I’m worried they wouldn’t do such a good job of cleaning and that would defeat the purpose!

Sorry, I bet reading this entry is seamless to you, but actually I shut the lid on my PowerBook for around an hour and took a break.

Why?

Because I just phoned a chatline. It was a totally waste of time. Bunch of time-wasters!

And I know I had a woman here only a few hours ago but I want more! Damn Erectalis keeps you stiff too long!

Actually, that’s not a problem, that’s a bonus. I just need some more pussy to use it on!

I always need more pussy! I can never get enough!

I’ve done some more coke as well; this stuff is different from my usual that I get from my mate Elvis.

It’s the first time I bought some from a guy I work with; actually it’s the first time I’ve bought from anyone other than Elvis.

I’ve still got some of Elvis’s charlie, so I had a chance to compare them.

The batch from the guy at work, “Wheeler” isn’t as white coloured as Elvis’s, it’s a much creamier shade. Also, “Wheeler’s” is coarser and more crystalline and stings my nose more.

That’s a bad thing, as the inside of my nose is raw already from doing so much. At least I haven’t had any more bleeding!

Mainly, the sensation is much different. It’s hard to describe, because they are similar, but the differences are pronounced enough that I notice.

Overall, I prefer Elvis’s to “Wheeler’s”, but it’s good to have a back-up supplier. I’ll try to see Elvis this week anyway, as I do need to do some shopping!

I just feel so restless and I don’t understand why. Maybe this whole thing with my daughter is eating me? I’ve been trying not to think about it, but of course I’m not being very successful at it.

I’ve got to get some sleep tonight or this will be my second night of no rest!

I don’t really think I have that much to say now and I have some other internet business to take care of.

I’m way behind on replying to my fan emails and I’m going to finally bite the bullet and register with a genuine dating website, before I go to bed!

Who knows, by this time next week, I could have a whole new class of woman in my life! I can’t wait!

Office observations from the under-utilised and over-paid

2006-01-13T11:06:00.000Z

As promised I’m back again.

Sometimes I’m actually as good as my word. Bet you never thought a salesman would ever say that!

My week has continued as I predicted, it’s been very dull.

It’s amazing to me how little I actually have to do most days. It only confirms something I’ve always suspected; the more senior you become in a company, the less that’s actually expected of you.

My department is a case in point; it pretty much runs itself.

All of my senior sales executives are very good at what they do and they certainly don’t need much guidance, advice or support from me. They all know the clients and our products and services better than I ever will, so I’m not really certain what I could possibly contribute to that!

I know I haven’t been here that long but I’ve yet to do anything significant or noteworthy. I think the most significant thing I’ve done so far is actually get this job. Beyond that, there really is fuck-all to do.

Even better, the MD keeps telling me what a great job I’m doing! He says he’s impressed at how I’ve just quietly slotted into the organisation and he says he chose wisely in hiring me. Who am I to argue with his flawless logic!

I don’t really know what I expected; I guess I just thought I’d have a lot more to do here. If I’d know being a departmental director was this piss-easy, I would have sought promotion much sooner!

The best part of my new job is the performance related bonuses.

Why?

Because it doesn’t actually have anything to do with my personal performance! It’s all down to my department and they are already exceeding sales targets from this time last year and it’s not even the middle of the first month of the year!

It doesn’t seem to matter that all this new business coming in this month was actually sought before I even worked here. All that’s happened this month is a few crossed “T’s” and dotted “I’s” and for my my fortunate timing, I see a big wodge of dosh drop into my bank account in the form of a fat bonus. Result!

I’m not complaining, not even a little. I know how lucky I am to have this new job, especially at this point in my life. Jobs like mine that pay well and have little actual responsibility don’t grow on trees!

If they did, I’d plant a forest and offer them to all of my fans!

A typical day for me goes something like this:

I arrive at work around ten in the morning and buy a latte from the coffee cart in reception of the building. There’s a really hot Aussie girl that works on it and I usually flirt with her while she brews my coffee. She is really attractive, tall and quite slim but with a peach shaped ass that I’d love to fondle!

I don’t flirt with her so much now, since she mentioned she was only seventeen. I’ve had enough of younger women creeping into my life! This is one I will not pursue!

I also stop to chat with one of the security guards, a South African guy named Hans. He’s probably late-twenties, always smiling and friendly and he speaks with a clipped accent that I didn’t recognise, so I had to ask him where he was from.

Hans is ex-South African Special Forces, which means he’s probably one hard bastard, but to talk to him, you wouldn’t know it. He’s a really nice guy.

He’s staying here in London, in a bed-sit, making decent dosh as a security guard and he’s planning on returning to South Africa in the next year or two with enough money to buy himself a house. He’s an enterprising young man!

He also told me that lots of South Africans are here in the UK, working as he’s doing; many of them in the security profession. Chances are, if you’re working in London too, you’ve probably got a few South Africans protecting your building as well.

Hans is probably one of the nicest people I’ve met in the office and he’s always good for a laugh. He’s got a wee crush on the Australian coffee cart girl and I’ve been coaching him a bit on how to pick her up. With me advising him, he can’t go wrong!

Just because I can’t have her, doesn’t mean I can’t help a mate to pull her! Maybe I can live vicariously through him just this once!

It’s weird, but I think I’m probably friendlier with my two new mates from reception than I am with anyone else in my company.

I usually arrive at my desk by around quarter past ten. Terry, my assistant is there already and probably has been since at least nine-thirty, maybe even nine. He’s very dependable and reliable; two admirable qualities in a personal assistant. He’s ready for me when I get there, with a list of my commitments for the day. Usually, there aren’t any. He also has any phone messages of which there are precious few.

I bet if I didn’t buy my own latte, Terry would get one for me. He’s always offering to get me coffee or tea, but I’m funny that way, I like to get my own drinks.

I inherited Terry; he worked for my predecessor. As good as he is, I doubt I would have hired him myself. Call me old fashioned, but I would have picked a woman and a hot one at that, to be my personal assistant!

At around ten-thirty, we have a daily sales meeting, which again I inherited from my predecessor. I’m not big on meetings, I find they are a waste of time, but my department seems to relish this chance to impress me so I’ve continued the tradition.

We convene in a large conference room that we have reserved every day at this time and each of the sales teams, led by a senior account exec, present whatever it is they’re working on that day or updates on on-going accounts. I don’t contribute much, but I do pay attention.

Why?

Because just after eleven I stroll informally into the MD’s office and brief him on the latest developments. Everything I tell him comes from this informal morning meeting, but he doesn’t know that! He thinks I’m doing a bang-up job keeping track of everything!

My job is really just smoke and mirrors and it didn’t take me long to figure that out. I don’t actually do anything, I just create the illusion that I’m in charge and I’ve got an entire department helping me to maintain this façade.

After my informal meetings, I return to my office to further the illusion of activity. I’ve been bringing my PoweBook in with me, so I can work on my blog and surf those naughty sites I enjoy, without it ending up on the browser history of my desktop PC. The IT department were happy to provide me with a login to the company’s wireless network, which means my laptop is connected to the internet!

I spend an hour or so each morning checking the adverts on my sleazy contact sites and I check them periodically throughout the day. I’m also putting up more adverts of my own, since I’m able to keep an eye on my private email accounts from my laptop as well. Right now, I’m probably running around half-a-dozen personal adverts on craigslist and Gumtree, but you’ll never find them!

The other website I check is that new one I’ve mentioned in such glowing terms, that lists all sorts of links to commercial sex opportunities. Specifically, the day’s list of available escorts; which indeed does change daily.

I think I’m getting a bit addicted to this website, but that’s easily done when confronted with so many hot young women available for home visits! It’s like the ultimate sex take-away menu that delivers!

I’ve also used some of my free time at work this to write this entry. I’m trying to be more considered in my writing and I’m taking my time with every word I write. I only hope it shows.

Once lunchtime arrives, I’m free to leave my office. I can really go out for as long as I want, all I need to say is I’ve got a meeting. No one questions me, because I’m the boss!

Like last week, I was probably out for over three hours that day I met Doug for lunch. No one blinked an eye!

I’ve also met Bob a couple of times for lunch since I started; his office is not too far away. This new bird in Bob’s life is making him a bit dull.

I’ve been again pushing him for a lad’s night out to the lapdancing club, but he hasn’t been interested. I really think it’s all down to the new bird. I’m sure it will pass!

After my lengthy lunch break, I return to the office. Terry’s still there, with any messages but again there aren’t usually any.

From there I ride out the rest of the day as I’ve started, making myself available to my staff should they require my input for any reason.

Normally they don’t, but it seems some of them make a point of consulting with me, just to be seen to be doing it. A little ass-kissing never hurts!

I do occasionally get some interesting visitors. For example, “Jenny”, one of the candidates for that senior sales opening tries a couple of times a day to get an audience with me.

I caught her unbuttoning a couple of buttons on her blouse before dropping by yesterday. Glass walls reveal all! She didn’t see me clocking this, but I did. She certainly gets an “A” for effort, though I expect her husband doesn’t have a clue just how career oriented she really is.

Basically, “Jenny” has let me know in no uncertain terms that she’s sexually available to me. She thinks this might secure this promotion.

She might be right!

The other candidate, “Ginny” continues to be shy and awkward around me and isn’t really doing herself any favours.

If she hadn’t impressed me at the Christmas party with her ideas and suggestions, I probably would have discounted her from the race already. She’s definitely sharper and more innovative than “Jenny”, but I know “Jenny” would do anything to close a deal.

It’s a tricky decision for yours truly! I still don’t know which way it will go. I’m trying to keep an open mind.

Further to that, I’m holding the formal interviews next week. It’s all arranged with the HR person, we’ll do “Jenny” on Tuesday and “Ginny” on Wednesday. That means come next Thursday, I should be able to announce who gets the post.

My work calendar is actually quite full next week, relatively speaking, as in addition to the interviews and decision, I’m joining the Creative Director and his team with members of mine, for a big sales presentation on Thursday.

The CD is a twat and a half, so this should be very entertaining! Obviously, I can’t mention the prospective client, but it’s a large firm that I expect you’ve heard of before!

One other person I met at the Christmas party also came to see me. He’s a junior accountant from the finance department and he’s also the office coke dealer. For the purposes of my blog, I’ll call him “Wheeler” the dealer.

“Wheeler” has to be in his early twenties; he’s thin, a bit spotty and wears cheap suits that are slightly too big for him. He’s got a thick cockney accent, quite a high-pitched voice and seems to fancy himself as a real wide-boy.

I reckon if he didn’t punt coke, no one would talk to him. As it stands, he seems like one of the most popular people in the office. I wonder if there’s a connection to his coke dealing?

He popped in to see me a couple of days ago, following up on a brief conversation we had at the party. I mentioned to him I might want to buy some charlie.

“Wheeler” speaks quickly and can be hard to understand, but I paid close attention. He asked if he could drop the blinds on the glass wall in my office. Once he did, he offered to lay out some lines on my desk.

I might like to party, but I’ve never actually snorted anything in the middle of the day at work before.

Naturally, I said “yes”. It would have been rude not to.

He had a fancy snorting kit, with a razor, small mirror and metal straw kept in a velvet pouch. He put out a half a dozen hefty lines down. Then he offered me the shiny silver straw and let me go first.

“Wheeler” told me that he likes a little pick-me-up during the day, as do many of our colleagues. I knew I’d like working here!

As soon as I tried it, I knew it was not the same as the stuff I get from Elvis. It felt coarser and burned the inside of my nose more. I don’t know why. Elvis’s stuff tends to cleaner, I guess.

“Wheeler” asked me if I liked it and in truth, I did. The rush came as expected, but also seemed different from what I’m used to. He then asked if I wanted to buy some.

I asked him if he did a deal (like Elvis) where you pay for six grams and receive seven. He told me he never heard of such a thing, he did grams for sixty quid or half-grams for thirty-five.

Half grams? I know I’m not that experienced with this stuff, but that doesn’t sound like much, does it? I guess not everyone can afford to spend on the stuff like I do.

He told me he had two grams with him, but was expecting more at the end of the week. I grabbed the two, right then and there. Yes, it was pricier than Elvis, but it can’t hurt to have a second source.

Since then, “Wheeler” has checked back with me almost daily, to see if I want more. At some point, I will, but I still have some of Elvis’s stuff at home, so I’m in no real need at present.

“Wheeler” seems like an OK guy, but he’s young and quite immature. As long as he keeps his mouth shut about our little transactions, I don’t really mind!

I usually stick around the office until just after six in the evening, earlier if the MD has left already. Basically, I leave after he does and not before as again it creates the right illusion.

It seems most nights, a crowd from the office go to a local pub for after-work drinks, but I’ve given it a miss so far. The directors don’t tend to show their faces at the pub, unless there’s a good reason and so far there hasn’t been one. I suppose at some point, I should make an appearance, put a bit of dosh behind the bar, but I’m not in any rush.

I’m making an effort to keep my social life and work life completely separate. I am not going to fuck this job up!

One weird thing from work:

I put my Christmas present from my ex-wife on my desk and it’s attracted some attention and questions from my colleagues that’s left me confused.

It’s a picture of my baby daughter, who looks adorable! She’s got a big smile on her face, though my wife says it’s just a bit of gas!

People keep asking me the same thing when they notice the photo and it’s starting to make me wonder things I shouldn’t.

What do they ask?

They ask who it is in the picture! And when I tell them it’s my daughter, they all seem surprised!

Who else’s picture would I have displayed prominently on my desk?

They’ve all said she doesn’t look anything like me? Do four-month-old infants look like anyone?

Bob said something like that; so did “Candy”.

Ok, she’s got deep blue eyes and mine are brown. So what? Her hair is still blonde, but that’s meaningless according to my wife. She also said a baby’s hair sometimes falls out and comes back another colour!

I’m starting to have thoughts I shouldn’t be having. I’m starting to wonder if my ex-wife is trying to pull another fast one on me.

Should I be worried? I don’t honestly know, but if my ex-wife’s track record is anything to go by, this might be a question that requires an urgent answer!

All I know is I love my little girl so much it hurts! Maybe I shouldn’t even be asking these questions, even of myself. I’ve been trying not to think about it, but it’s been nagging at me more and more.

Oh and before I sign off, I suppose an update to my sex life is in order. There’s really not much to report, I haven’t had anyone since that whore last week.

As I mentioned, I have been advertising extensively on the sleazy sites and I’m doing an email dance with three different women at the moment. One of them is bound to be willing to meet me for my style of discreet fun this weekend. I’ve got Saturday night free and available and I’m ready to entertain!

Expect nothing less than full disclosure on my discreet fun in my next entry!

A stronger start to a New Year

2006-01-09T13:17:00.000Z

It never ceases to amaze me how many women become fans after reading my blogs.

You would think as the internet’s (former) number one cheating husband, women and especially the married ones, would think I’m terrible. You would be mistaken.

Apparently, many, many women enjoy my writing and they like to read what I write while flicking their beans.

I’m starting to wonder if I’ve indirectly responsible for more women having orgasms as a result of my blogs than as a result of directly having sex with me!

I only wish I could be personally responsible for all that cumming! I’m a hands-on kind of guy and to me; the best thing about sex is making a woman cum and cum and cum and cum…

You get the idea.

I had a long lunch with Doug, my media guy last week and we were discussing this very point.

Doug reckons that because my “fetish” (god, I hate that word!) is a woman’s orgasm and my favourite activity is cunnilingus, women respond to me. He says even though they shouldn’t; they can’t help themselves!

I don’t know if that’s true or not, but if the emails I receive are anything to go by, he might have a very valid point. If women out there want to worship me and everything I stand for; I’m certainly not going to try to discourage them!

I knew when I set out, I would end up being some sort of a hero for other horny married guys and I am, but to think that I’m an object of lust and desire for lots of hot, random women…well, I never really expected that!

In some ways it’s quite frustrating, because there’s a lot of hot, horny pussy out there that I could be having, except I can’t.

Why?

Because my blogs, while a blessing in many ways, are also a curse!

Could you imagine if I actually arranged to meet someone and they turned out to be another tabloid reporter? Picture my picture in a newspaper; I can’t think of anything more indiscreet! I have way too much to lose, especially now!

If you want to blame someone, don’t blame me! Instead blame that tabloid hack, who set a trap and nearly gave me a heart attack!

Not only did she nearly unmask me and trash my secret internet identity, but she’s responsible for preventing me from getting loads of NSA action with my many female fans!

So if you’re one of those hot, horny women who dreams of a taste of the “full discreetlondon treatment”, keep dreaming! If that tabloid reporter hadn’t nearly screwed me over, I might be screwing you, literally, right now!

Doug thinks all this is funny, that the one thing that would attract more women to me than ever before is also the reason why I can’t meet them.

I don’t see the humorous side of this myself. At least there are still plenty of women around who’ve never heard of discreetlondon, though if Doug is successful, that will change soon too.

That’s why I had lunch with Doug, to discuss my media future! Doug’s convinced that things will start moving for us soon. He’s actually done a bit more work than I realised.

Doug has outlined my entire first blog as a first step to writing the scripts. He’s still convinced a tv series is the way to go, but if it was up to me, I’d prefer to see a book come first.

Doug’s thinking seems sound though; he says if we can get a series produced, we could launch a book off the back of it.

As an unknown writer, Doug thinks my chances of publication are slim, even though my story is already a proven winner here online. He says, “old style” media doesn’t really look too kindly on “new media”.

If that’s true, they can’t be very smart! I don’t care if they’re smart or not, just as long as they want to make me a shed-load of cash!

I met Doug for lunch at his favourite restaurant in Soho, this American place he likes. Doug says it’s full of media-types and if that’s true, they all seemed like twats to me!

The restaurant specialises in wood-smoked barbequed meat and it was very good. Actually, it was especially good, since Doug treated me to the meal! Result!

Doug works in the media, but I found out he’s not pulling down the same kind of money I am. He probably only makes about twenty percent of what I will this year. I thought people who work in the media were rich! And Doug works in television, so I was surprised to learn this.

I don’t really understand exactly what he does, but so much of the media is like that and just beyond me. I know he works overnights and he says he does that by choice.

That part I really don’t get! If I had to work at night, when would I have my discreet fun? Doug doesn’t have any discreet fun, he lives with some woman, but I haven’t met her yet.

Doug was pushing me again to put something in writing regarding the development of my story. He says it would make sense to have some sort of contract between us, outlining the specific terms.

I’m just not comfortable with doing this since I don’t know what the terms should even be. Doug says we could have it all drawn up by a solicitor, but I just don’t know.

There’s some sense to having a formal arrangement; I see that, but it makes me nervous. I’d hate to be giving away my profits for no reason. And what’s a fair share for someone who’s only re-writing what I’ve already written? I’ve done all the really hard work already!

Living my life has been the really hard work; writing about it has been comparatively easy!

Doug talked a lot about structure and how he sees a discreetlondon television series. He talked about pacing, character development; plot structure and how he would adapt my first blog into a ten-part “darkly comic drama”.

Originally he was talking about turning it into a sitcom, which I was dead set against! There’s nothing funny about my life! Maybe now he’s sees that, because he’s not pushing as much for the comedy element any more.

What I found fascinating is that he actually pitched the first episode to me, in great detail.

It was surreal, sitting in this restaurant having someone else describe real events from my life as if it was a tv show. He even showed me that, while dramatic, there’s room for humour and he made me laugh a couple of times.

It seems like he wants to stick closely to my story, or as Doug put it, he wants to “remain faithful to the source material”, which of course is my first blog.

I’m looking forward to seeing the first draft of the first script, or “pilot” as Doug called it. He’s going to want my input, feedback and most importantly, my approval, before showing it to anyone else!

I really want to get this show on the road! I don’t want another year to go by with me sitting here not making money from my blogs!

Things are actually going better with Doug now, it seems like he’s finally pulled his finger out. He says he’ll be able to put more time into the project for the next couple of months!

We talked about this blog as well, the one you are reading right now. Doug has been trying to coach me on my writing and I hope you all notice a difference! He’s given me a few tips and pointers; he’s even got me using a Thesaurus!

Doug says that my writing style has matured since I started the first blog. Perhaps its just practise, or maybe I’m just more confident. I don’t know. It’s good to have him give me this feedback, since I don’t really have anyone else with a critical eye looking over my shoulder!

Maybe I’m just easy, because I got a free meal out of him, but I’m feeling much more positive about the prospect of something actually happening! Thousands of internet fans can’t be wrong! I don’t want to let any of you down!

I had the baby with me this weekend for the first time in bloody ages!

My wife dropped her off on Friday night and it seemed like she couldn’t wait to leave her with me. I’m sure being a new mum is stressful, but she really seemed desperate to drop her off and go; perhaps she had some sort of social plans. Who knows?

Since I hadn’t seen my daughter in a while, I was shocked to see how much she’d grown since the last time. They grow so fast! She was a proper angel all weekend and didn’t give me a spot of trouble. I just love her so much!

And I finally was able to give her the Christmas gifts I’ve had waiting here for her for weeks. She’s far too young to understand, but it made me feel good knowing I was able to finally play Santa for her.

My daughter will want for nothing, as long as I have anything to do with it!

My wife did leave me a gift, which she said was actually from my daughter. She described it as just a token. I opened it after my wife left and nearly burst out in tears when I saw what is was.

It’s a framed photo of my little girl, the first one she’d given me. There were also a couple of wallet-sized prints in there as well.

That framed photo is now in a special spot of prominence on my desk at work! I’m a very proud father!

I saw Bob a couple of times last week. He’s spending a lot of time with his new special lady, which has limited his availability. I haven’t met her yet but she sounds ultra-posh; her ex-husband was quite wealthy, which left her well off after the divorce. I’m sure if it continues, I’ll eventually get to meet her.

I tried to get Bob to go our lapdance club but he wasn’t up for it. He didn’t say, but I’m wondering if he’s trying to keep his nose clean because of this new woman. As if anyone in that particular lapdancing club would ever tell!

We ended up going out for drinks locally in Paddington. There’s not much to report, both nights were just quiet drinks in quiet pubs. I hope he hasn’t sworn off the lapdance clubs for good!

There’s one person who hasn’t, I mean besides me and that’s the MD of my new firm. I took him there just before I got the job and twice now he’s asked when I’ll be taking him back!

And get this; he’s convinced it’s a private club! He thinks he needs me to return, as he was “my guest”! I haven’t set him straight yet and maybe I won’t. I think a return engagement may be in my future soon!

Last week at work was dull again; it seems the world isn’t back to normal in the first week of the New Year. I went in every day anyway, though I can’t say I did very much apart from a few longish lunches, including my meeting with Doug.

Terry, my assistant is a real gem, though I still can’t believe my secretary is a guy! He knows how to create the illusion of activity; when the MD popped into my office for a chat, Terry knew exactly how to maintain the façade of productivity! I’m going to have to give him a pay rise as soon as I can!

I had that meeting with the human resources manager as well and he took me through the company’s process and procedure for making staff appointments. They’re very formal about these things; surprisingly so, considering how informal the firm is otherwise.

I’ll have to interview both candidates officially, with someone from HR present. I’ll need to ask them both similar questions and judge their responses accordingly.

Of course, DL has his own way of doing things and I’ve got some thoughts on what criteria I’ll be using to make this rather important management decision. Maybe I’ll just toss a coin!

“Ginny” and “Jenny” were both around last week with “Ginny” continuing to be a bit shy and awkward around me, while “Jenny’s” flirtatious approach continues to distract, if not impress.

I’ve never had to make an appointment like this and I really want to make the right decision! I also want a piece of “Jenny”, although I know it would be a big mistake. I’ve got till the middle of the month and I’m going to take my time with this one.

Part of me would love to get my hands on “Ginny” as well, especially if it’s true that she’s a virgin. How lucky would she be if her first time included a giant portion of the full discreetlondon treatment! I’d probably spoil her for all the other guys by setting the bar that high on her first time!

The truth is, my new office is just full to the brim with women and I want them all! I sit at my desk, pretending to have something to do, while I am really imagining what it would be like to have sex with them.

I’m serious, I think I’ve probably had a go with all of them already in my mind and I don’t even know most of their names yet! It’s funny how vivid my imagination can be!

Like there is this one woman, she must be late forties or early fifties, works in HR or accounts, I’m not really sure, but I’ve spied her in the corridors a few times.

For a woman of her age, she is extremely attractive, quite thin, with blondish-grey hair. She’s a bit matronly actually, but in a subtly sexy way. Now, I wouldn’t try it on with her in real life, no way, but just to relieve the boredom, I have pictured what it would be like to seduce her.

One word describes this fantasy: grateful. She’s grateful for the special attention and really makes the most of this chance to relive her younger, sexually active days.

No woman I’ve seen at work has escaped my fertile imagination; I picture what it’s like to get hot and sweaty with every single one of them! I’ve even nipped off to the loo a couple of times to take my detailed fantasies to their natural conclusion.

Yes, I mean I’ve been wanking myself senseless there a fair bit!

And you know, I’m no different from most guys. We’re all always thinking about sex, probably with YOU!

I just don’t have that much to do, which as a boss and manager, and I mean any boss or manager, is often the case. I do try to create the illusion of productivity and I’m very lucky that my personal assistant understands this game too.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very lucky to be in this new job, I just expected, I don’t know, more work. This department pretty much runs itself; so perhaps I just need to redefine my role in some way, get more involved.

What am I crazy? If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!

Besides the senior account executive post appointment, I’ve got to attend a major sales meeting next week. The creative director, or CD as I call him, is making a big pitch to seriously big corporate client and I’m going to tag along. He’s such a trendy twat; it should be a right laugh seeing him in action.

I’m looking forward to picking up some more corporate wank-speak from him. It seems every time I chat with him, I catch some new business term that’s profoundly wanky. Creatives, eh?

By far the most exciting thing I did last week was take that new website I mentioned for a test drive!

As well as ordering Erectalis (formerly Apcalis, the generic form of Cialas), I booked my first prossie through them. On both counts, the experience was very rewarding!

To do either of these things, you must first register with the website and become a member. This sort of thing makes me quite nervous, but I didn’t really have a choice. Sometimes, the benefits outweigh the risks!

Once you register, you can place an order for Erectalis, but even this is not straightforward. First you have to buy credits, which I guess is a bit like virtual online money. One credit equals one pound and I’m guessing it’s just some sort of loophole that allows them to get away with selling sex the way they do.

I ordered twenty, 20mg pills for fifty-seven quid, which works out less than three quid per dose. That’s a bit cheaper than Elvis! Result!

Of course, I was a bit nervous that the pills would never turn up, but two days later, a plain brown envelope arrived, with my name and address hand-written on the label. It was the goods I ordered, as described.

The service seemed fast and reasonably priced, but what about the quality?

Well, there was no point in trying one on my own, so I went back to the same website to find a willing companion for a couple of hours of discreet fun.

As I’ve explained, this particular website is like all my discreet dreams coming true in one place online! As well as selling various penis pills, they also have quite a comprehensive listing of independent escorts working in London; literally hundreds of them!

I’ve got a bad habit of spending hours checking out women online before I make a booking, because I have such a difficult time making a choice. Well, this website was no exception to that; actually I think I spent the longest I ever have, just window-shopping before making my selection!

The choices and range of services available is mind-boggling. Some of the offerings are even new to me and I thought I’d done it all!

Would you believe I even found identical twin sisters! I’m not making this up, actual, honest-to-God, twins! They didn’t come cheap, but they were available for home visits and would even put on a show for you! Well, they say incest is best!

Actually, I don’t get going with twins. It’s like you’re paying twice as much for a double portion of the exact same thing. If I’m going to spring for the two-girl special, I want a bit of variety!

For the most part, the prices these prossies were listing seemed very reasonable and there’s a lot of competition out there for the pervy pound.

Many of the women offered discounts for longer bookings; making a two hour session much more affordable. And the best bit, most of them mentioned that you are paying for their time, not their services, so you could cum as much as you wanted! Now that’s a great deal!

It really did take me ages to finally make my selection and this time, I went in a totally different direction. I booked a thirty-nine year old woman who claimed she had the body of a twenty-five year old. From her photos, I wouldn’t argue the point; she looked hot!

She charged £250 for two hours, would do all the things I’d enjoy and I could cum as much as I wanted! It sounded ideal!

I filled in the online booking form and left only enough details for her to phone me back on my work mobile. It’s the only one I have at the moment, though if I have time, I’m going to pick up a second, secret, pay-as-you-go phone this week. I didn’t give my real name either.

The whore phoned me back within fifteen minutes, which I thought was a good response time. She was softly spoken and pleasant on the telephone, but required quite a bit of detail from me before agreeing to visit.

I’d worked myself up quite a bit about meeting this particular woman, so I decided to provide whatever she needed. That list included my real name as it appears on my landline listing, my landline number and obviously my address. She said she would verify my details with directory enquiries.

I’m ex-directory and explained this to her, but she said it really didn’t matter as they would confirm my details anyway. Can that be right? It’s probably worth me ringing up and asking myself.

My guess is that she just wanted the additional security and making it sound official meant I was more likely to provide actual details. Who knows for sure?

She rang off then phoned me back about five minutes later on the landline and confirmed that she would be with me within ninety minutes. So far, so good.

I jumped in the shower, shaved and put on my favourite charcoal grey robe. I laid out a couple of fat lines of charlie then knocked back a double measure of whiskey. This was going to be good!

I popped an Erectalis from that new batch as well. As I waited for the hooker to arrive, I was nervous that the pills might not work; that they could be fakes, but thankfully that was not the case. These were the real deal!

Nearly bang on time, my door buzzer went off and I checked the video entry phone. I confirmed it was my expected guest and buzzed her inside. She was up the lift and at my door in no time.

She was even hotter than her photos, which didn’t show her face. In person, she was very attractive and indeed did look younger than her stated age. I invited her inside and offered to take her coat, which she removed, revealing quite a simple, yet sexy black dress. She was wearing black heels as well, with what appeared to be stockings. She looked quite elegant to me.

Her hair was on the longer side and dyed flame-red, which suited her pale skin and features. I ushered her into the living room and offered her a seat on the sofa.

I asked her if she would like something to drink and she asked for something soft, so I got her a large glass of orange juice with some ice. I poured myself another whiskey, then returned to the lounge.

I joined her on the sofa and offered to take care of business. With that out of the way, we could relax somewhat. As she was reticent to discuss my requirements on the telephone, she asked me what I was interested in for my session.

I told her I wanted a “GFE” which stands for “girl friend experience” and is a term associated with the escort trade. She knew exactly what I wanted.

After a few moments, “Kitty” cuddled up to me and purred softly against my neck before kissing it. From there, her lips met mine in a very deep and passionate French kiss.

I suggested we enjoy my hot tub together and she was enthusiastic in her response. I went off to start filling it and when I returned, “Kitty” had removed her dress, revealing a black strapless bra, matching thong, suspender belt and stockings. She was standing by the sofa, almost posing for me and if I had a camera, I should have taken a photo! She was picture of seductive beauty!

I took her by her neatly manicured hand and led her into the master bathroom, where the Jacuzzi was nearly ready. I turned on the pump while she stripped off completely, then we both climbed into the whirlpool bath.

She snuggled up to me tightly, wrapping her arms around me; this “Kitty” didn’t mind the water! She snogged me some more and as she did, reached down and grasped my now throbbing cock.

The Erectalis was more than doing the trick! Result!

She wanked me gently while kissing me; and it was very nice indeed. Then I stood up and sat on the edge of the bath, my erection pointing up at the ceiling. “Kitty” got on her knees in front of me and swallowed my length in one practised go.

She deep throated me like a porn-star and it seemed like only seconds before I filled her mouth with my love juice. I never take that long the first time!

I slipped back in the hot tub to catch my breath; “Kitty” was again next to me, still playing with my cock. It wasn’t still fully hard, but it didn’t go completely soft either. I suggested we towel off and move to the bed. She didn’t disagree.

Once I was mostly dry, I left “Kitty” to finish drying herself. I went back to the kitchen for another dose of coke and another whiskey. I topped up her orange juice and brought it back to the bedroom.

“Kitty” was already sprawled out on the bed, wrapped only in a towel. She was so hot that I knew I had to taste her. I dove between her legs and undid the towel, revealing her very neatly trimmed bush.

I parted her legs and set about doing my favourite thing. She was very responsive and in no time I found the right rhythm to get her really going. She came hard a few times from my special attention. I’m good!

From there, I ended up fucking her three times; once doggie, once with me on top and finally with her on top. I used my personal favourite condoms, those Durex Performas and with each fuck, I lasted a little longer!

“Kitty” ended up staying for over two hours, she didn’t rush at all and when it was time to go, she handled it without it feeling like she was clock watching. It was a great punt overall with four orgasms for me.

I would book her again, though variety is important to me as well. Overall the experience was nearly perfect and I think I’ve found a new source for playmates in this new website. It really was a lucky discovery!

I started this entry over the weekend, while my daughter was with me, but I’ve been finishing it off here at work on my PowerBook. No one here of course knows that I’m the famous blogger, discreetlondon and never will as long as I have anything to do with it!

That’s one plus to having fuck-all to do here in the office, I’ll have more time to dedicate to my writing!

And before I go, I just wanted to thank all of you who send their kind regards and good wishes to me following my unfortunate incident on New Year’s Eve.

My head is fine now and the swelling is gone completely. The only thing still dented is my pride. It was a silly thing to do and I won’t be doing anything like that ever again!

If it really stays this slow for me this week, I’ll try to post something else before the weekend, but as always, no promises!

Only myself to blame

2006-01-02T12:49:00.000Z

If 2006 continues the way it started, I’m ready to construct a time machine so I can return to 2005! Well, the last quarter of it, anyway.

I know it’s only the second day of the New Year, but for me it got off to a rather bad start.

I ended up in a spot of bother on Saturday night, New Year’s Eve, which has left me somewhat shaken.

I had planned a quiet night at home and if I’d stuck to that plan, I wouldn’t be writing this entry now. I wasn’t actually planning on posting anything until the end of this week either.

Sure, I ran some adverts on my sleazy contact sites; I even perused that new commercial sex website that I recently mentioned, but no luck. Well, I could have booked a prossie with them, but I didn’t really like the look of what was available and quite a few of them were willing to do “hard sports” which really turns me right off.

So there I was at midnight on New Year’s Eve, watching the Big Ben and the countdown on the BBC with that hottie Natasha Keplanski (I would do her till it fell off!), toasting in 2006 on my own with some whiskey and some charlie.

It’s not a sad as it sounds, since it was my choice to spend the evening that way.

Last New Year’s Eve I had a fantastic night. My wife was working and I arranged to meet a woman I met through an online advert. She was the full-time mistress of another married guy, which meant she was free on New Year’s Eve. The life of a mistress must be quite depressing around the holidays, when their man is forced to spend a lot of time with his wife.

It’s the same for married guys; they’re stuck at home with their wives a lot over the Christmas/New Year holidays. I can even remember the receptionist at a massage parlour I used to frequent, telling me that they were busier than usual on the last business day before Christmas.

Why? Because all of us married guys needed a little something extra to get them through the holiday period!

But back to this Saturday just gone. I was up late, wired and pissed, so I decided to have a wee wander up Sussex Gardens, the road near my flat where street whores ply their wares. I threw on some clothes, stuffed some cash and my mobile phone into my pockets, grabbed my keys and went downstairs to the street.

When I got outside, I discovered how busy it was with revellers. There were a lot of people on the street making merry! Of course it was busy! The London Underground workers were on strike, so instead of free tube travel all night, lots of people were walking around! I saw a couple of night buses and they were filled to the brim with party people as well.

I wasn’t really certain I was going to find any whores outside on New Year’s Eve, but I thought there would be no harm in looking. I was mistaken.

It must have been between two and three in the morning when I went on my little excursion. I walked the length of Sussex Gardens and back twice, before I ran into a hooker. She was down on the Hyde Park end of Sussex Gardens and after a brief chat, we agreed on twenty-quid for some head and she led me towards a nearby alley.

Once we were there, I dropped my trousers and she got on her knees in front of me. Before I knew it, I was struck sharply on the back of the head and felt myself become a bit dizzy. I didn’t know where the blow came from, but I very nearly blacked out.

As I went down on the ground, I heard a rough male voice instructing the whore to go through my pockets. She grabbed the remainder of the cash from my trousers and managed to nab my mobile phone from my jacket pocket, then like a flash, they were gone. It all just happened so fast!

It took me a moment to regain my composure, but I got up, dusted myself off and pulled up my trousers. My head was hurting something fierce!

I checked my pockets and indeed my cash (around one-hundred quid) and mobile phone were missing, but thank Christ, they didn’t get the keys to my flat. I went home straight away.

Once home, I poured myself a double whiskey and had a couple of lines. I held my hand out, palm down and could see it was shaking.

Of course I was shaking! I was just mugged!

And before anyone starts emailing, read this very carefully: I know I was stupid!

I know now better than anyone just how risky it is to give my custom to common street prossies! It won’t ever happen again! I’ve learned my lesson the hard way.

It took me quite a while to wind down after this awful event and by the time I was relaxed enough to head to bed, daylight was spilling out around the edges of my curtains.

I’m not that bothered about the money. What’s a hundred pounds these days anyway? It’s a pittance, really.

And the mobile phone was a cheap pay-as-you-go, but since I’ve got one issued by my new employers, I’m still connected.

I probably will buy another pay-as-you-go phone to use for my discreet purposes, not that I’ve got anyone to hide anything from, but old habits die-hard!

Besides, if I’m going to start playing on regular “dating” websites, I don’t want to be too reachable, too often and a second mobile puts a bit more control in my hands.

The bump on the back of my head is another story, but its covered by my hair and not noticeable to anyone except me. It’s still quite sore, but thinking about what happened, it could have been much, much worse. I think I got off easy, relatively speaking!

Imagine, if instead of just cash, I had my wallet with me. That would have been my credit cards (personal and company), driving license and other assorted important bits of my life.

Take it one step further and ponder this; if they got my license and my house keys, they would know where I live and have access to my flat! That could have been a disaster of epic proportions! And I could have been seriously hurt as well.

Just imagine if the whore’s boyfriend had a knife with him. It’s just too frightening to consider! Perhaps I really was fortunate to just get off with a knock on the noggin’!

In other words, this episode could have been far more costly to me both financially and physically than it was, so I should count myself very lucky indeed!

I took it very easy on New Year’s day, I slept very late, then just lazed around the flat. I didn’t even bother getting dressed.

One worrying thing; when I woke up and blew my nose, the tissue was covered with blood. At first I thought it had something to do with the blow to my head.

Then I realised the inside of my nostrils was quite sore and I twigged that the blood was caused, not by the attack on Saturday night, but on the amount of cocaine I’ve been taking recently.

My nasal passages are a mess! I really need to give the stuff a wee rest!

As today is a bank holiday, I’ve not got a lot planned either, though Bob is due back this afternoon, so I might see if he’s free for a drink or even dinner tonight.

Tomorrow, I’m back to work, though I don’t expect much to happen. Things won’t really get back to normal until next Monday, but I’m planning on having a meeting with someone from the Human Resources department to find out their view of the senior account executive vacancy.

Then I get to move on to the real fun! Working out which of the two of my fine female candidates gets promoted. Mark my words; I’m going to enjoy this!

And to all of you, my devoted and loyal fans, Happy New Year! I hope your New Year got off to a far better start than my own!

What readers are saying about discreetlondon!

2005-12-31T02:55:00.000Z

The following are all actual comments (and some emails) left by genuine readers of both discreetlondon blogs.

Glad you behaved at your party DL!
Best wishes for the new year!!
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Hi there DL
Can't remember if I have commented before, but love the Blog. I am in the forces and so can relate to many of your discreet adventures as I have done a fare few also. Also made the cardinal sin of getting caught - doh!!

Regards for a great new year
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DL! Congrats on your anniversary! Hope you keep blogging for many years to come! Or should that be "cum"?
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I really am very worried about you. Have you thought of therapy? You are seriously putting your health at risk. Please be careful. You've already given us a clue as to what kicked this behavior off -- the miscarriage your wife suffered. You are on a scary path -- alcohol, drugs, rampant sex. Please get to a doctor!
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I've just finished reading the latest 'Ask DL' and I wanted to say thank you for the gift of a post on Christmas Eve!

I also wanted to tell you that I'm throbbing after reading your reply to theguy who asked for your advice on going down on a woman!Boy do I want to be looking down at you as your tongue works its magic on my drippinng pussy!

That horny little thought will be what I'm thinking about as I sit down andeat my Christmas dinner!!I told you I'd think of you in an impure way and now you know exactly what I'll be thinking about!

Happy Christmas Discreet
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I have completely enjoyed reading about your escapades. Please continue writing...and tell the media guy that he should shop you at HBO or cinemax or even comedy central. They are american networks that could use a breath of fresh programming that your story would provide. I find myself in a marriage with a wife I love, and close to crossing the treshold of phsical infidelity...so much pussy to be loved....I have difficult decisions to make...irregardless of thise decision...I enjoy living vicariously through you...thank you and conquer as much pussy as possible,write,don't miss a detail!!!!
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Dear DL,

Firstly, may I congratulate you on your splendid new job and, more generally on one of the best things on the internet - your blog! They always say the greatest flattery is imitation, and I'm a frustrated DL wannabe. ! Also, if you ever fancy a beer, I'd be HONOURED to buy you one.
all best
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hi dude,

Words fail me, this blog just gets better and better.

The odd thing is, your life is so wierd you could not make it up. If this was fiction nobody would believe it - they would just laugh.

Keep blogging - more sex please.
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Greeting from accoss the pond!! We love the blog. I just got turned on to it a week ago and I have been reading and laughing ever since. I Wish That I had the opportunities you do. Right now I'm contemplating a similar course of action in my life...If I don't, then I am happy to live vicariously through you...keep up the blogging and snogging.
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Hi Discreet,

I stumbled across your blog a couple of weeks ago and have spent EVERY second of my free-time (and a good amount of my ‘bunny-time’) reading your blogs. I loved every word! But now I’m up to date and desperate for more.

Please keep blogging, you make me smile, you make my clit tingle and you make me check your blog every day for new posts! I’m addicted and probably not the first to say that.

I do have questions I need to ask you concerning my sex life with my hubby, but as he is watching tv in the next room I’ll have to save it for a time when I can be more discreet - I know you’ll understand perfectly!

Until next time Discreet….
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Thank you for your fantastic blog, never stop writing, it’s your gift to the world, however you use it!

Enjoy yourself and be sure in the knowledge that every Monday through to Friday I’m playing with my bunny and sometimes imagining your discreet adventures and the lucky girl getting the Discreet London treatment!
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Great blog! We are men of a similar outlook!
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I only just discovered you are back, discreet! Thanks for coming back! I love reading your posts!
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Its about time my favorite sleazy blogger returned!

Why no details on that Greek woman you were screwing? I like to read details!
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I'm glad to see you enjoyed yourself this summer. I am happier that you are back blogging again. I've missed your stories.

BEST OF LUCK TO YOU FINDING A GREAT JOB!
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Nevermind short postings DL! Keep them long, really long. I imagine parts of your body are really long too!
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Cyprus! Lucky you discreet! I bet the women there won't know what hit them! Can't wait till you're back and posting!

Regards,
A Big Fan
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Fantastic news that you're coming back to blogging DL, your posts are the highlight of my week!

And when is your book coming out? I keep checking on Amazon, but they are not listing it yet.
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I'm glad to hear all is well with you. ENJOY yourself this summer and I can't wait to hear about your adventures. Even women can get turned on by your writing
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Discreet! So glad to see you're back and getting your life in order! Can't wait till September and you start writing again! Looking forward to hearing all about your discreet adventures!
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Fuckin' hell discreet! I only found your blog a couple of days ago and have been reading some of it. You are a good writer, but my god...I really hope your luck is better now!
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DL,

Good luck in dealing with the challenges. Don't forget about us, those who read your blog! We need to hear how you're doing, and give you our support. We miss hearing from you!
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I love your site!
I hope everything works out well for you.

and next time i'm in london, maybe i'll contact you. ;)
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Hi DL,
Good luck to you. I'm a huge fan. ;)
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Hello!
I think that your blog is really awesome!!!
Thanx upfront and keep up with great blogging!!!
Marcus!
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Oh my god, I thought you might never come back! I was really happy to see your new post!

I really love the new layout as well, with the "chapters", it makes navigating your site so much easier! Good idea!

And good luck finding a publisher! I've read it all online, but I would buy your book too!
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Glad to see you're back discreet! I've been missing your posts very much! I hope you don't leave it as long before the next one!
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PLEASE don't stop blogging! I LOVE reading your blog. It is a nice escape from my own mundane life! You are living virtually every man's dream - don't let us down!!!
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Discreet, please don't stop blogging! This is the best blog I've ever read, you are an inspiration to married men everywhere!
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Hi Sweetheart

If you do have a joint checking account w/ mrs discreet, I suggest you run over and get your 50% immediately. It will be a miracle if there is anything left in it. Also, it may be a good idea to pay off Elvis promptly. He is probably quite civilized, but you won't be able to sell shit with a black eye.

Best
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Hang in there! I've been fired from many jobs and it really stinks, so I know how you feel. But don't let it get you down because you'll realize that there are bigger and better things out there for you! I was fired from one job because my boss wanted to give one of his friends a job! But whatever you do, keep on blogging. Reading your posts is the highlight of my day!

Good luck!!!
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Do you think your wife has a will?
It would be a real shame if something happened to her.
Maybe you should come to America and get some tips from Robert Blake or OJ, if you know what I mean.
I hope it works out for you.
God Bless.
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I agree with getting the house appraised. It doesn't seem like they will do you any favors, so get all that you are entitled to. Also how is it possible in England for someone to be thrown out of their own home? That is your house, how in hell can they deny you access to your own home??? I would call a locksmith and get access to my own damn home! Break in if you have to, it's your house!
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hi DL

The more I read your prose, the more I think you are a natural writer! That escort 'Belle De Jour' turned her blog into a book (and I have enjoyed your blog much more than anything she ever wrote.

Regards
LC
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Hi Discreet

I found your blog yesterday!

First class, just first class.

Your conversation with the reporter was a hoot. She has absolutely no idea about male sexuality.

Take her question "do you think you are a sex addict and could you ever be monogamous?"

She just does not realise its natural for men to want to sleep around.

No man wants to be monogamous. Ok, some choose to be but that's not what they want! She probably thinks that her boyfriend has only got eyes for her.

I have worked for a guy who was a sex addict and you are NOT a sex addict. You have said no to an offer of sex and have taken measures not to get involved with anyone from the workplace again. If you were an addict you wouldn't care, it would be any where with any woman.

I work from home and you have inspired me to try my hand. I placed an advert yesterday 'generous guy for university student' and got a reply back within 1/2 an hour! Early days but I am hopeful.

Discreet, I think you have a gift for words. Please keep posting.

Regards
LC
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Thanks Discreet for posting the interview...I can see why they wouldn’t post a story about you without getting a picture. That journo sure seemed naive. but hot!

Have a great time in Amsterdam. Hope you have lots of discreet fun.
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Wish she got your picture. I would love to see what you look like. I bet you are a hunk! Xxx
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She might be a bitch, but she's right about one thing...your life really would make a great book! I'd buy a copy!
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Great post DL! Don't let the bastards grind u down!
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Wow discreet, that was worth waiting for! It might not be your sexiest entry, but it sure is funny!

Did she really think she could fool you? She didn't have a chance!
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I miss you. Please, post soon. I live vicariously through your blog, and I need some discreet reading. Hugs, Lisa
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I think you are going to Hell meester
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Just been reading your Blog - outstanding, fantastic stuff! You say somewhere you might become a hero for married men, well I think that's a distinct possibility.

Keep up the good work Sir!
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I've been reading your blog for a little while, and I can't help but comment on this. Hell, no one is perfect, but admitting that you're no angel does not make your actions more excusable than your wife's. It is a sad moment when a marriage ends, regardless of the reasons. Some people would look at your situation and just laugh, tell you you're getting your just desserts.

I won't be that judgemental. I encourage you to learn from this experience, and I hope that in the future you are able to get into a relationship where both parties really and truly believe in the sanctity of marriage, and uphold their vows.

I've been through it all myself.

Ignore me or delete me if you dislike what I say, I know it's probably nothing you want to hear. I can't help but to feel pity for a person in pain, even if I do not personally agree with some (or most) of what they do. I thought of just telling you that "Karma is a real bitch" and then snickering about it in my own blog, but consideration of it made me think that was too nasty.

Good luck in getting through this ordeal.

regards,
a reader
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Hi DL,I'm a regular reader of your posts and find them very instructive. I truly believe that you have a flair for writing. You can keep a reader engaged even if the posts get long. My situation is similar to yours. I cannot wait to start punting.

regards,
SB
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Mate,

I'm sure your blog is helping many of us out here. Just keep doing what you do best. Keep blogging!
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The people have spoken!

Even the learning has curves....

2005-12-30T09:59:00.000Z

It’s been a week of new discoveries for me, both professionally and personally.

The office Christmas party was particularly revealing; with revelation after revelation regarding my colleagues. Overall, I think they’re my kind of people and I’ll fit right in with them.

I think I do already!

My personal discovery has even more potential, as I’ve found a new website that nearly caters to all my discreet needs completely! This development as well cannot be underestimated!

I’ve settled right into the routine at the office already, though I’m certain that once the holiday period is over, things there will intensify. The main headline on my new job is that I’m genuinely not expected to do very much!

The life of a director, eh?

My assistant, Terry, seems to keep everything ticking over nicely. He handles all my admin, runs interference with my staff and generally keeps me insulated from the wider world.

I’ve suddenly become a difficult man to reach; even Bob says getting past Terry is no mean feat…and he’s my best mate! Terry now knows that Bob gets priority treatment!

I can’t sing Terry’s praises loud enough! I don’t really care if he’s gay or not, he does a fantastic job!

Bob’s still in Paris with his new special lady, though he’s rung a couple of times just to say “hi”. I can’t tell if it’s serious or not, but then I bet Bob can’t either. All I know is he seems to really be interested in this new woman. Good on ‘em!

I’ve been spending some time checking out various internet dating sites and I think I’ve decided which one to start with. I don’t want to mention the name of the site, but its part of a major internet portal and it allows you to search for other members based on all sorts of factors, including one’s postcode. Bring on the local ladies!

I’ve got to choose a photo of myself once I sign-up and that’s not proving too easy. I suppose I should have one taken of myself especially for this purpose. The truth is; I don’t know really how I want to be seen online. Do I want to be wearing a suit and tie, looking all respectable or would casual be a better bet? How about a cock shot? (Just kidding!) I just don’t know what the best approach is.

My expertise lies elsewhere on the internet, where pulling women is both my art and my religion. I’m good with NSA fun; getting a hot woman into a mini-cab on short notice is what I specialise in; I’m not sure how I will do in the traditional world of dating. It’s been a long time since I properly did anything like that!

How many emails must be exchanged before it’s appropriate to meet? How many dates does one need to endure before trying to slip some woman the tongue or more importantly, the trouser snake?

I don’t have the answers yet, but at least I’ve identified some of the questions! Come the New Year, I’ll be trying to find out for myself.

I guess I want to meet someone like Bob has, for more traditional fun and games. After “Candy”, it will also be nice to meet someone closer to my own age…but not too close!

“Candy” actually sent me a Christmas card, which was a bit of a surprise. She’d written a short note inside it saying she’d still like to see me again.

Keep dreaming, love! She just should have been honest with me! Maybe things would be different!

My wife is still at her parents’ place with our daughter. I’m really missing her; my daughter, not my wife. It’s really starting to piss me off that I’ve hardly seen her and I’m hoping next weekend I can spend some quality time with her! Damn holidays!

It’s not easy being a new father, especially when you never get to see your child. All the gifts I bought her are still sitting here in my flat and at the rate I’m going; it will be next Christmas before I get to give them to her!

Against my better judgement, I attended my new employer’s Christmas party last week. It was held in a fancy club in central London, which we hired out for the night. There was an open bar, finger food and a DJ. There was also a mountain of cocaine, but here’s the interesting bit, not all of it was mine!

I went home between working and the party to freshen up and change, while many of my colleagues didn’t have the chance. The joys of living centrally! I swapped my business suit for smart but casual, with casual trousers, a blazer styled jacket and a turtleneck jumper. I didn’t look too bad actually and didn’t seem out of place. Thank God things aren’t too formal with my new employers.

The party was just kicking off as I arrived; I guess there were around one hundred people attending. Most were employees, but there were a handful of guests, clients, suppliers and the like.

The MD was greeting people as they arrived and I got quite a warm reception. He was in the most jovial of moods and slapped me heartily on the back as he directed me to the bar.

I decided to pace myself, so I started out with a single whiskey. I had blasted a couple of lines before I left my flat and I had a gram with me to enjoy throughout the night.

I picked a spot in the corner, nearest to the bar and the men’s room, which afforded me a convenient base and vantage point to keep an eye on the evening’s activities. As other members of my department appeared, they began to join my little circle and before long there was a small crowd of us.

Being near to the men’s room, I was able to keep track of who was going in and who was coming out. Mainly, it seemed to be everyone, male and female! I didn’t need to be a genius to work out what was going on!

When I finally heard the call of nature myself, I ventured into the loo. I wanted to have a slash and a toot, but all the stalls appeared to be occupied. After a brief wait, one of the doors opened and several people from the accounts department emerged, laughing and rubbing their noses, which confirmed my suspicions.

I went into the stall and had a quick piss, before laying out a couple of juicy lines for myself on the cistern. I tried to snort them discreetly, as is my way with everything, but there was no point. In the stall to my right, I could hear a group of people whooping it up and the stall on my left I could hear the hushed whispers of another pair.

As I emerged, the door to the stall on my left also opened and out walked two members of my department. One of them was a senior account exec, the other a junior exec on the shortlist for promotion.

As I believe I mentioned, one of my first acts in my new job will be to appoint a new senior sales executive. The two candidates, both female, are junior sales execs in my department. They both seem fairly evenly matched, though the one I saw coming out of the toilet might end up with an edge. Really, it’s still too early to tell.

Both of them glanced at me sheepishly as I caught their indiscretion, but I simply smiled and nodded knowingly.

I went back to the bar and got another drink, then rejoined the little group from my department right where I left them. The other candidate for the senior sales post had arrived while I was in the loo and joined the group as well.

I suppose I should tell you a bit about both candidates, who I’ll call “Ginny” and “Jenny”, though of course, they are not their real names.

“Jenny” is by far the more attractive of the pair. She’s absolutely gorgeous, with long highlighted brown hair, tan skin and a firm, lithe body. She’s married to a wealthy city trader and sports a large diamond on the ring finger of her left hand.

Sometimes the sexiest thing a woman can wear is another man’s diamond ring!

“Jenny” is also the office slut, or so I am reliably told and has slept with more than her share of colleagues and clients. Especially clients apparently; she has closed a few deals on the strength of her sexual availability.

I know what you’re thinking already; she’s DL’s kind of bird!

The other candidate, “Ginny” is nowhere near as good looking, but at a stretch you would say she’s cute. She’s got ginger hair (hence “Ginny”) cut into an androgynous bob. She’s quite thin and flat-chested and dresses in a somewhat plain style.

That said, “Ginny” is extremely bright and always well prepared professionally.

The unconfirmed rumour in the office is that she’s a virgin, but I can’t believe someone hovering around the age of thirty could still be untouched. I’d do her!

But I’d do nearly anyone!

Either one of them could do the job; it’s not a question of their competence. I’ve got to think professionally!

Decision, decisions! All in good time.

The drinking, snacking and small talk continued in our little group, though maybe not so much eating; coke’s a real appetite killer. I also kept an eye on the loo and the steady stream of coke-traffic continued.

Eventually, I felt the need for another blast and excused myself to the loo. Once inside, I ran into “Jenny” and the senior sales colleague I saw her with earlier. They were waiting for a stall to use, as was I.

I got chatting to them and made them aware that I was “hip to the scene”. The guy invited me in to join them for a line. No one was even trying to hide what they were up to, it was all very blatant!

I found out that one of the junior accountants in the company is the office coke dealer! I made a mental note to seek him out for a conversation later.

My employee laid out six generous lines and we each had two goes. He said if I want any more, just ask. “Jenny” was all smiles, but I could tell she was slightly unnerved by my presence.

From there, it was back to the bar for more drinks and small talk. I tried to engage “Ginny” with some small talk, but she seemed somewhat anxious and shy. Perhaps she too was just nervous because I’m her boss. I don’t know.

The senior sales guy nudged me and pointed out the coke dealing junior accountant and off I went to make his acquaintance.

The first thing I noticed about the accountant was his age; he seemed very young. He was a skinny, spotty kid really, in a cheap suit; he couldn’t have been more than twenty; twenty-five tops.

I introduced myself and told him I heard he could be quite helpful. He asked me what I needed and I told him, nothing tonight, but at some point in the future, maybe. I just wanted to make sure that would be OK.

He told me it wasn’t a problem; he’s always well-stocked and happy to help! Result!

We got chatting and it turns out he’s also the office gossip monger! He gave me the low-down on absolutely everyone; including “Jenny” and “Ginny”, the MD, the Creative Director, you name it! It was probably one of the best chats I had all night.

He told me that “Jenny” was a real up-and-comer in the company while “Ginny” was seen as a bit dull and uninspired. He was a real source of detailed information!

And some of the stuff he told me about the MD…well, I might just hang on to that for another day!

The junior accountant excused himself to go chat with some other people and I returned to my little group from the sales department. I ended up next to “Ginny” again, chatting casually, when I decided to test the waters. I asked her if she’d like a little pick-me-up…?

She bristled at the suggestion and quickly declined. I was not surprised. We talked a bit more, before I excused myself to the loo again.

As I was going in, I caught “Jenny’s” eye and signalled for her to join me. She didn’t hesitate. The toilet was quite empty at this point and we jumped into an empty stall. I withdrew my wrap and started to lay out a few lines on the cistern.

“Jenny” was being very friendly and flirty as well as complimentary. She told me the department needed a strong leader like me.

Even with the cocaine, my nasal membranes are quite well tuned and I can smell bullshit from a mile off! I haven’t been there long enough for her to know what sort of leader, strong or otherwise, I am!

I motioned for her to go first with the charlie and she bent down to snort it up. She was wearing quite a tight jacket and skirt combination with heels and her bottom looked imminently squeezable, but I resisted temptation.

When she stood up to let me take my turn, she stopped me and said “I shouldn’t really say this, but I know you’re making the sales appointment soon and I just wanted to let you know that I would do anything to get that job…”

I knew what she meant. You know what she meant. She meant she’d shag me senseless if I’d promote her.

Of course, it’s tempting; she’s a right shaggable piece of ass!

But here’s the part that will surprise you, I didn’t pull my cock out and give her one right then and there. Oh no. I’m not making any mistakes like that this time!

Instead, I told her I’m keeping an open mind on the appointment and don’t plan on making any decisions until early in the New Year. She said that when I do get around to making my decision, to keep what she said in mind.

Oh I will, you can count on that!

And with that, we returned to the group. “Ginny” was just saying her goodbyes, quite early considering. I offered to walk her to the door. It was only fair, since “Jenny” had a chance to whisper to me privately, she should have her chance too.

As we walked to the door, I was struck with how plain looking “Ginny” was and what a contrast there was between her and “Jenny”. “Jenny” is beautiful, confident, and stylish, while “Ginny” is plain, shy and frumpy. Imagine showing up to your office Christmas do in a floral print dress!

“Ginny” didn’t say much to me, so I brought up the subject of the promotion and explained that come the New Year I’d be making the appointment and I wanted her to know she was on the shortlist.

That made her light up like a Christmas tree. Immediately she started telling me about her plans to expand our market share. She was full of ideas and some of them were fairly innovative! In a short space of time, she actually impressed me and I saw an enthusiasm there that I hadn’t noticed before.

Perhaps this appointment wasn’t going to be as straightforward as I had thought!

With that, we said our goodnights and “Ginny” disappeared into the darkness.

The evening continued as it started, with drink, coke and small talk. I probably could have pulled someone. I know I could have had “Jenny” if I wanted, but I stuck to my plan of not doing anything naughty. By the end of the night, I was ready for my pillows and nothing more.

The following day there were more than a few sore heads in the office and it seemed like everyone was running a bit late, except for Terry, my assistant, who as usual, was in before me. He didn’t attend the Christmas party, smart lad!

Nothing really happened at work on the Thursday or Friday; Friday was actually an unofficial half-day before the big four day holiday weekend. It was sort of a gradual winding down. My boss told all the directors to take this week off, so I haven’t been in the office at all, though I have checked in with Terry for messages. There wasn’t a single one!

That left me on my own and alone for the entirety of Christmas weekend, something I don’t really recommend. I placed a slew of adverts on my sleazy contact websites, but figured; quite correctly that it was an exercise in futility. I did actually have a couple of replies, but they were from time-wasters who really had no intention of meeting me.

I don’t really understand the reason for playing email ping-pong for half the day, only to decide in the end that you’re not going to go through with it. If it’s just wank-fodder, then why not just go out and get a Mills and Boon romance novel and frig yourself silly? Why waste my time too?

I considered ringing an agency and making a booking, but didn’t. Perhaps I should have, but if I did, then I might not have stumbled onto this new website I discovered. Perhaps it’s not actually that new, but it was new to me.

It was the internet’s Christmas gift to me! I discovered it just after midnight on Christmas eve while trying to Google my way into something else.

Imagine, if you will, a virtual online Disneyland for all things commercially sexual!

For starters, this website lists contact details for literally hundreds of whores, all independent and some of them part-timers. You can search for them in many different ways with all sorts of criteria, from location to price to even the service offered!

And they don’t only list London, but the entire country, which should come in handy if I do any work-related travel.

By far the most useful information provided is on the prossie’s availability. You can search for who is available right now; today or you can even check an individual girl’s schedule.

You can also make a booking through the website, for incalls, outcalls, phone sex, webcam fun, you name it!

What I found most bizarre is the number of services many of these escorts offer. There were even things they listed that I didn’t know anything about and had to Google to understand. For example, “adult baby minding”; this was a new one on me! It means a guy dresses up in a diaper, acts like a child and the whore pretends to be the nanny. Weird. And surprisingly popular.

By far, the nastiest, most disgusting thing on offer is something called “hard sports”. And no I don’t mean a rougher version of football or rugby!

“Hard sports” involves playing with poo. No, I am not making it up

I think I might vomit!

Apparently you can either “give” or “receive” hard sports. Either way, I find it totally unsexy and disgusting!

Even worse, I saw one woman listed on the site who said “A Levels” were acceptable after “hard sports”. At least I know what “A Levels” mean; it’s anal sex and I’m not a big fan of that either. It means this whore will let you fuck her up her ass right after she has a shit! Yuck!

When I book a woman from this site, and I will, if she mentions “hard sports” in her profile, she won’t get my custom. Not only don’t I want to do this act of extreme perversion, I don’t want to play with someone who would be willing to do it! It’s just too, too, too…I don’t have a word that fully expresses my feelings!

But lots of them do things I would enjoy, like CIM (cum in mouth) and quite a few swallow. BDSM also seemed popular, though the dominants outnumbered the submissives rather significantly. I didn’t know there were so many services to list. It’s a bigger world than even I realised!

There were all sorts advertising on this website, even a few prossies who would do it “bareback”, which I find fairly shocking if not unbelievable!. I can’t imagine fucking a whore without a condom, it’s just too risky!

Different strokes for different folks!

I didn’t actually book anyone from this site yet, mainly because the choice of available women over the Christmas holiday weekend was a bit thin. Even whores need to celebrate the holiday, I guess.

I’ve been checking it every day and the selection is widening; I reckon after New Year, I’ll give it a go!

The fees also vary quite a bit and a careful consumer could end up with a real bargain, like several hours with a right hottie for what I’ve been paying for an hour with some snooty, high-class foreign escort. Because these girls are independent and not affiliated with an agency, they can pass the savings on to you!

But none of this is the really big news about this site, oh no.

The really big news is they also sell a couple of items that I’m particularly interested in; generic penis pills!

That’s right! They sell a generic version of Viagra, called Kamagra which is just like the Vega I get, but on top of that, they stock something called Erectalis.

Erectalis is the new name for my beloved Apcalis, which is the generic form of Cialis!

I’ve been getting the Apcalis from Elvis, my coke dealer, but he’s not got a steady, regular supply. Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t know that it has a new name. I’ll tell him the next time I see him.

That’s how I stumbled into this site; I was doing a search for a reliable supplier of Apcalis.

I’ve been searching for a regular, steady source of Apcalis, I mean Erectalis, since last summer when Elvis first introduced it to me. They are the best boner pills on the market; they’re fast, effective and long lasting.

The ordering process on this website seems a bit convoluted, but I’m willing to give it a go as I really want to get a load of these pills. I’m placing my first order next week, after the holiday.

If this site is even half as good as it looks, it will be amazing! I can’t believe I’ve only just found it!

I won’t be including a link here, however; mainly for two reasons:

- I don’t want to call too much attention to it; I’d like to see it up and running for a long time to come!

- If I did ever decide to provide them with a proper recommendation, they should pay me for it! I’m serious!

An endorsement from discreetlondon could bring in a lot of business for them. It would only be fair if they paid me for the privilege.

My popularity here online can’t be underestimated! I’d provide them a permanent link in a prominent spot on my blogs, if they’d throw some advertising money my way. And maybe a discount on the Erectalis and with the ladies!

But I’m getting ahead of myself here. Let me test their services and offerings before I send any of my fans their way! But once I’ve confirmed they’re as good as they say, I’d be more than happy to share my discovery!
Any of my true fans who need the link now, before I can personally sample their services; I’m only an email away!

I'm anticipating a quiet holiday weekend again.

I've got no real plans for the next few days, except to get well and truly off my face. If I see an available prossie on that site that I like the look of, I just might treat myself! But if it's anything like last weekend, over Christmas, it will probably just be a few scrubbers that I wouldn't want to pay for!

And this concludes my last entry for 2005, which was an eventful year for yours truly. At least it’s ending on a (mostly) high note for me!

May the New Year bring each and every one of you as much luck as I've had recently! Have a deliciously discreet time!