(THE BEAUTIFUL YOUNG GIRL he’s involved with)

She takes hold of my arm as I turn to go….

“He’s with me, he’s mine”

This outburst brings me sudden joy and unexpected laughter, that this gorgeous young woman considers me a threat….and responding 

“I know you have something going on with him, yet I doubt he’s yours, or anybody’s….but, if he offers himself to me, then for that moment in time, he’s mine, and I will have all of him, saturate myself in the experience….his look, touch, taste and smell….yes, when he is with me, he is mine; not because I am taking him from you, but because he is giving himself to me….and that is a gift I am grateful for….no matter how quickly it passes….or the loss of him when he is gone (this is patently my lie to myself…it is a visceral thing, the joining of two bodies, not easily parted from), but for that time he alone is mine….all mine”.

I gently take her hand off me….she sees clearly in my eyes looking back at her, the truth of it, lowers her lovely thick lashes, trying to hide what is already seen….triumph fading to acknowledgement.

Quietly, I say “He gives himself to me, because he saw that I was starving….an act of love, yes, love of a kind….and generosity.”


She loves the afterglow….that lull, when two bodies cease the great struggle towards the “Little Death”, when the pulse quietens. Loves to explore the unfamiliar territory of his face….to go beyond his eyes, touch his still wet lips with delicate fingertips…..trace the strong planes of cheek bones, the thick dark stubbled hair around his mouth and chin, and then all along the lithe, lean, length of him….every inch. To saturate herself in the strong male scent of him….intoxicating.

Lover, traveller….seeking, finding, the lovely unknown terrain of him…..and then returning to the pull of his gaze, his strong beautiful face, and finally at rest….looking back at him, into him. Those clear blue eyes, the soul of him.

Excerpt from Breaking Taboos….an Erotic Fantasy


“Once upon a time, people were formally introduced to each other…..Not these days, we just have to fend for ourselves and hope for the best”

“Well then” he said, “I am introducing myself to you now. My name is Brian and you ???”

“Ahhhh, me?  I am Maggie, like the birds….

I saw you once, I mean, really SAW you, I wanted so much to speak with you”

“And now you are…we are”, he says smiling, and shakes my hand.

Strong warmth, straightforward. No limp fish there, I think to myself….good.


“WHAT IS IS ABOUT YOUNG MEN?”, her friend asks, the next day, over coffee.

She’s considered this subject so often, the answer comes easily.

“Apart from their youth and beauty, you mean?”

and her friend, “Yes, apart from that.”

“Ok, obviously this is a sweeping generalisation, but from my own personal experience, men of my era seem, at large, to be arrogant, patronising fools….they delight in either second guessing or belittling women. It takes all the little control I have, to not simply slap them.”

She’s suddenly back in the early years of marriage, sitting across a crowded dinner table with her ex husband.  She’s telling a story, everyone is laughing….then her husband interrupts, criticises her, foolishly. Tries to rob her of this small moment of humour , saying she has exaggerated.  It’s a subtle form of public humiliation, something he seems to revel in, does often, when a guest turns to him suddenly, saying, “we don’t care if she’s downright lying…..we LOVE her stories.”  Thinking about this scene so many years later.

“Young men aren’t threatened by women, they generally really like them. They have after all, been raised by women like us, feminists. Mostly, they regard us as equals, even tho we never will be, physically.”


Taken unawares, he’s suddenly standing there….that gorgeous pirate’s, face splitting smile. I feel caught off guard, completely vulnerable. He moves close, leans in. I can smell him.

“What is it you want from me?”

I try to look away, but I can feel him, feel him waiting.

“What do you have to offer,” I say, then he shifts, uncomfortable, perhaps embarrassed, and with nothing left to lose, I hold his gaze, speak the truth.

“Listen, I don’t care about the beautiful young girl I’ve seen you with.

I really don’t care….and if I do, well, it’s already too late. It was always too late”


And again her friend asks, softly “What’s he like, tell me about him”???

I come back to her, watching me across the table, curious, sympathetically.

“He looks like a rockstar, a dancer, a violinist, a drug dealer, out of work Actor, footballer, movie star, waiter”,  I look up and grin at her….and she grins back encouragingly…”go on”,  I discover its effortless to describe him, so vividly is he etched upon my mind’s eye, “he’s sleek and swift, agile, lean and strong….always laughing, focused, hard working. He has very beautiful bones, intense blue eyes – slanted, I can’t remember his mouth, his hands, although I’m deeply aware of his body, but his eyes hold me, enthralled….I feel him before I see him, and there’s that daily drop and fall, surge and rise of emotions.

When I see him, I feel fully alive.”

And now I feel so naked, exposed in the spotlight’s glare, and if she says,

“Girl, you’ve got it bad”,  I’ll push her backwards off her chair!!!  But she doesn’t like cliches any more than I do, just sits there in sympathy.

“What are you going to do about it, him?”

“I want him” I tell her, “and spend a great deal of time lecturing myself on every practical, sensible, ruthless reason, why I shouldn’t *have him*, on what earthly possible reason he would want me, on what do I have to offer him….certainly not youth and beauty” I say, sardonically.

She reaches out across the table, takes both my hands in hers, grips me, shakes me, just a little.  “If it were me, telling you this story instead of the other way around, what would you say to me”

I feel myself unwind, the tension in neck and shoulders fall away.

“ I would be very annoyed with you, tell you how very lovely you are.

Tell you that long years lived,  bring not only the lines and scars of age but great depth, compassion, empathy, wisdom, understanding….this my dear, is great beauty. Perhaps that is what draws him to you!!!”  Now without warning, tears start flowing down my face. We stand up, walk into each other’s arms, embrace.

“All those long years alone, single parenting, the endless menial jobs….I lost that true essence …that other me. The fully functioning sexual woman. It is so….long, since I have been with a man. I am as terrified as I am hungry”

She knows, she nods, she smiles with complete empathy.


Once more he stands in front of me….takes me by surprise, stands so close I feel faint, and tilting his chin, he looks down at me….

“You’re doing it again” he says, “avoiding me….why?”


Standing his ground, eyes cold, intense….”every time you see me, you turn and look away…..WHY???”

“Don’t you see” I say, “Firstly, I only ever see you in this god awful place….think about it” and now all the held back feelings, my own anger at the seeming futility, absurdity of our situation fills me, overflows. I square my shoulders, loosen my spine, give him back the look he’s just given me. And again,

“Don’t you SEE?”

“Every time I see you, I feel like my heart will explode right through my chest….when I see you I am afraid, afraid of my feelings “

He says nothing, stands there, looking, looking….

“And when I see you, I light up…aflame, then I feel too open, too vulnerable “

He shifts slightly, “And when you don’t see me?”

“Then I am looking for you, wanting, wanting only to see you again ,”

“So, that’s how it is?”

Still unsmiling, he reaches out and tucks a stray hair behind my ear, cups his long fingers around my neck.  And I stand still, quivering like a frightened deer, wanting to run, wanting to stay, then step back, “look where we are for god’s sake” and this time it is me, who turns and walks away, out into fresh air, gulping it in, shuddering, I can still smell the sweat on his skin.

And walking faster towards the sanctuary of my car, trying to shake off the sense of him.  I hear footsteps behind me. A hand reaches out , curls lightly around me and without any thought, my body turns, literally melts into him. His other hand cups my neck, warm, solid, comforting….and reaching up to his wonderful mouth, I kiss him.

And now, hot breath in my ear “I could have you now, right here, and be damned to everybody “….heated bodies cling, my hips move against him, involuntarily. I have to pull back, get myself under control.

“Come, come with me now” he murmurs, and we climb into his car, and leave.

And then the old familiar terrors drain away all that heat.

A quivering mess, I turn to him.

“Stop, stop the car. I can’t do this”

We both get out, I stand shaking, arms wrapped protectively around my body.

Almost shouting….

“Its too late. Far too late. I DON’T KNOW HOW TO BE WITH A MAN ANYMORE”.

I’m terrified of what’s coming, the shedding of clothing, my protective skin.


He approaches cautiously, gathers me carefully into him, breathing deeply, saying nothing, and slowly I match my breathing with him, once more sinking in towards the shelter of him.

“I don’t know how to be with a man anymore….it’s been so very many years”

Still quietly holding me, “You needn’t be afraid ….

we’ll take it slowly, you’ll see. I’ll make it easy ….let me do this, for you.”

And taking my hand, firmly, gently, he leads me back to the car and I go with him.

Excerpt from Breaking Taboos….an Erotic Fantasy



(On that morning of heavy rain)

Gazing into an ocean of blue, her fingers still tangled in his hair, her body limp from the tumult of their lovemaking she feels herself drifting, sees his eyelids close, feels his body relaxing into sleep, feels her fingers uncurl, let go….joins him.  And the rain keeps up a blessed steady drumbeat on the tin roof of their sanctuary.

Waking cold, in an empty bed, she turns, looks for him. He stands, naked, back turned to her, arms raised, hands braced in the open doorway. His back in shadow, his body rimmed with light from the mid afternoon sun, hair loose upon his shoulders. Her etheric body leaves the bed, walks softly across bare boards, wraps arms around him….breathes him in, the intoxicating male smell of him.

But she remains there in the narrow rumpled bed, eyes fixed on this image….observing the shapes and curves, the long lean lines, the inner stillness of him….as he looks outwards, belonging to no one….not her, not she…..he is simply there, framed against the light, pure being.

BEFORE NIGHT FALLS she turns to him, watches him lock the door, come, link fingers with her as they walk towards the lake. All is stillness and shimmer on the water as they sit quietly, bodies touching…..breathing in the peace of it, breathing in each other.

By unspoken agreement, she leaves first, not wanting to watch him drive away…..and later, at the Lilypond she feeds her fish, their golden bodies rising, creating tiny ripples on the water….a vivid memory to take with her into sleep… fill her dreams….and waking in the night, she weeps, finding herself cold, alone, no longer home.

Excerpt from Breaking Taboos



“Look … I know it seems outrageous, weird, but before we do ONE MORE THING, you have to sign this” …

He looks at me in disbelief, eyes the legal document with suspicion and distaste, shrugs his shoulders and turns away … but I reach out to him, hold his arm.

“Imagine how it is for me … a single older woman living in a small, deeply conservative country town. People will talk … they always do … and I barely know you.  I understand this seems cold, calculating … but I have to be.

I want you, you know I do.  Just sign the bloody thing will you???  For me!!!”

He shakes his head, his lips tight, shoulders stiff, then takes the document from me, a “non disclosure agreement “, reads it.

“Then, whether you feel like it or not, when questions are asked, and they will be … I am protected.  And you, all you will have done, is give me your word.”

He thrusts it back, won’t look at me, lips tightened in a thin line.

My heart flutters in my chest, but having come this far, I can’t give in.

He has to see how badly I need this very small gesture … a symbol of honour.

She’s learned at her peril, the idiocy of taking people at their word.

“All right … give me the fucking thing”,  takes a pen from an inside pocket and signs his name, hands it back to me, wordless.  Then I take his hand, kiss his fingertips, pocket his promise and ask, “When?”

Then he laughs, grabs me tight, whispers against my mouth, “Now.”

Fear floods me … waves of heat and cold, desire and an overwhelming need to run away … too many years, too long alone, feeling nausea … and the treacherous mind chants in my head “So, so stupid, so deluded.”

But he’s still there, pulls me back into him, stroking my hair, and as suddenly as it has come, the terror is gone.  I wrap my arms around him and whisper, close against his chest.

“Thank you … this means so much to me.”

Excerpt from “Breaking Taboos – An Erotic Fantasy.”


There was, after all, nothing to fear. Her body remembers, instinctively.

And coming apart, suddenly shy again, but he grabs her quickly by the hand, turns her towards him, smiling….brushing dirt, twigs, dried leaves from each other’s clothes, hair, she feels safe once more. Trusting him.

He opens the door, leans down smiling, removes  the last dead leaves still caught in her hair, beckons her, inviting.

Inside, sparsely furnished with a single bed, a cupboard, a wood fire stove, small table, some wooden chairs, two windows letting light stream onto the wooden floor, the patterned rug, and through the door, late afternoon sun shimmers on the still surface of the lake.

He brings her water from the outside tank, rummages around in the cupboard, finds a loaf of heavy bread, cheese, chutney, apples and a bottle of wine. She sits watching his swift, graceful movements, his hair come loose, falling forward momentarily hiding his face, his beautiful bones. She sketches him with her eyes, tracing the fine lines , and catching her watching him, he laughs suddenly….”I love feeling you watching me”,  hands her a glass of dark red wine, leans in, kisses her, and floods her mouth with the first taste of it, mingled with him. Neither of them are really hungry, and as dusk descends she wants to go out to the water.  So very peaceful here, soft sounds of birds twittering to each other as they settle for the night, a flight of ducks skimming across the surface , then quiet descends. They don’t talk, perhaps there will be time for that later, for now, the peaceful bliss of this bright new thing seems to fill them both…a quiet ease.  And all through the night, on the small single bed, they couple and join, again and again….her hunger excites him. And in between, exploring each other, wordless touching, fingers drifting over bone, hair, warm flesh and soft, full lips,  she feels herself drowning, lets every last thought leave her mind, leave fear behind, holding him, holding him.

Excerpt from Breaking Taboos, an Erotic Fantasy