Blue Monday's Daring Blog

Blue Monday's Daring Blog

Going Underground

I suspect it didn’t help that my upbringing was rather conservative. Sex was not discussed, there was no conversational innuendo and any kissing on TV precipitated a rapid and furtive change of channels. Clear preference was expressed for nature documentaries. My Dad’s paternal duty was done one day in his workshop when the rudimentary details were discussed without eye contact and all a bit too functional. Boys of that age know when there was something being withheld. Why use matt paint on woodwork when gloss is clearly preferable?

The situation was further complicated by an outbreak of adolescent acne. Growing pains par excellence. Painful and unsightly. Or at least a 16 year old thought so. Who wants to go out with a boy with spots? My mind convinced me no one. Possibly se ... [more]

A Single Man in London Confesses All

A confession. I've been a naughty boy. Consistently. I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. No constitutional rules broken; maybe some moral codes. Probably not classifiable as good 'behaviour'. But God it's been fun.

I love women. Always have. Their shape, their radiance, their beauty, their charm, their allure, their needs. My needs. Perhaps mutual needs. The dream, yes, mutual needs.

There is no blame as such. Maybe some contributory factors. My parents decided that boarding school was best. Locked up with hormonally challenged teenage boys. No girls. No balance. Not normal.

My mother wore stockings. My first memory of her was in stockings. I was close to my Mum. I have always loved stockings. Stocking tops, suspenders, lingerie. Besotted. Intoxicated.

I have ne ... [more]


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