This morning we had the first snow of the season. Just a smattering really, but enough to justify the thick wad of Euros that Aliki and I spent on tickets to Brazil for Christmas. So, Rio here we come!
Fata Morgana Adult Club – Muiden (Amsterdam)
Our first impression of Fata Morgana was one of elegance and privacy. Like the majority of its clientele, we got our first view of the club grounds at night, car tyres crunching over the long gravel driveway, lined by tall hedges on both sides. There was something reassuring about the intimacy of the surroundings. Indeed, lying just off the A1, only 20 minutes or so from Amsterdam, the location offers the perfect mix of seclusion and easy access.
As a woman, you would never accept your guy hitting you, would you?
Except if it happens exactly when you want it, exactly where you want it and exactly as you want it. Which in my case is hard, but without any violence. On the cheeks, but not on the face. When I am on top, but only in particular circumstances, ie when I feel like it.
A rare and complex form of superior mirage seen mainly in the desert?
Nope. A swingers club on the outskirts of Amsterdam. And the first stop of our new sexual journey together with Xander about a year ago.
I am still mulling over the fact that nobody has to choose between his or her sexual fantasies and a stable, loving couple life. I feel strongly about this because I see it all around me and I have lived it before: passion in the arms of a lover and a home with a partner who cringes the moment you murmur the word “handcuffs”.
If this blog were a boat, this post would be the Dom Pérignon tied to the ribbon, hurtling towards the prow. Unfortunately, as things are, we can only celebrate the launch of our blog using words rather than bubbles!