Sorry it's been a while since I last posted. Me and my super-hot Japanese girlfriend Akiko took our ventriloquist act on a short tour of South coast venues this past week, and I've been so busy I've not had time to review the global news from a hot, firm-breasted glistening lesbian's perspective.
I wish the haters and doubters who have been so vocal this week had come to see our show, "The Vagina Dialogues", because they would have seen that we are most certainly not men, and are definitely not "over", playing to packed houses - and during Wimbledon too!
Anyway, putting aside accusations that I'm a middle-aged balding slightly overweight man, pretending to be a hot, moist, horny lesbian and enjoying it a little too much, I'd like to get on with the firm-bodied, soapy, naked lesbian's eye view of the top stories.
And no doubt about it, this week's top world news story is the unfolding drama of Olympics-ticket-salesgate, where the public have felt misled about London 2012 ticket availability and frustrated by the system of distribution.
Just as the athletes in the Olympics themselves, many of us may come away with nothing to show for our efforts, but does that mean we shouldn't have bothered in the first place?
It reminds me of the time I was in Top Shop on Oxford Street, outside the changing rooms, waiting to try on a skimpy skirt that would show off my curvaceous yet firm figure. There were four or five other young, hot, firm-bodied women also waiting to try items on, all with firm, D-cup breasts, varying ethnicities and hairstyles and beautifully curved bums. I could tell they were all my type, and I could feel myself getting wet, but I tried to put it out of my mind.
I couldn't help noticing, though, that all their nipples were getting hard, and they must have copped me looking at them, giggling as our eyes all met in understanding.
One thing led to another, and before long we were all naked, tenderly caressing each others firm, full breasts, inhaling each others musky feminine scents. We were all approaching a thunderous group orgasm when the security guard, a middle-aged balding man, walked in. Before he had time to protest, we set about him like seagulls on a savaloy.
My point is, there's no shame in coming last, it's the taking part that counts. As Epictetus put it, "the essential thing in life is not conquering but fighting well".
It's a common misconception that the hot, firm-breasted, lubed-up lesbian community aren't interested in the teachings of Epictetus, but we are. We're as passionate about classic Greek stoicism as we are about fingering each other.
As I was saying to my super-hot Japanese girlfriend while we were soaping each other up in the shower last night, my eager fingers exploring the delicate cleft between her legs, much of what happens is shaped by fate and beyond our control, so no use worrying about whether we're going to get those volleyball tickets.
My thanks again to all those who showed up to the open house naked foam lesbian full-body massage party last weekend, and I can only apologise for the mix up that resulted in Akiko, me and all the other hot, horny, firm-bodied lesbians not being there. My contacts tell me there was an excellent turn-out of middle-aged guys ready and willing to join in, and my hope is that any other moist, firm-bodied hot lesbians with a fetish for rubbing up against middle-aged, slightly overweight guys will be encouraged by that and will come to the next one. Come on hot lesbians! Pull your fingers out!
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