Some reviews

Why is it so difficult to meet somebody today?

In spite of all the networking possibilities and social media?

If you are Single, Divorced or Widowed and want to get back into the Dating game, if you're looking for that elusive partner, you will be interested to hear how a pro went about it. I was a matchmaker in Ireland and had my own dating agency. I'm sharing my experience and insider views with my readers. For more info see my book's website:!

I had the honor of being asked to come on the local NBC show First Coast Living twice in the last week to give dating advice. If you missed it, you can read all that stuff in my book.

Friday, June 20, 2014

More from Guy:
"I gave him one last kiss.  “I miss you already!” It wasn’t a lie.
I went back to bed and slept till about noon.  Snuggling between the cozy sheets, I replayed the memory loop.  It was another cool, drizzly day and I refused to get up and face it.
I texted him, “Raining.  Having a bath to wash cream off my hair.  Sheets stink of cream.  Reliving every moment.”
A little while later, he texted back, “Got your message when we landed.  Enjoying you in my thoughts during the flight.”
I was glowing, sated and I think that little bit in love.  How would this unfold from here? Would it?
To answer with the words of one of Shakira’s songs that I liked, “Wherever….whenever…." 

More, Guy!

We met up again four weeks later near London when I took another wine buying trip to Germany.  In the meantime, there had been SMS messages on a daily basis, as well as at least one phone call every other day.  Guy used to ring me from his cell phone.  I would have hated to see that phone bill, but to him, it didn’t seem to matter.  Since he knew the London area better than I did, Guy had chosen the hotel, a most romantic place called the Great Foster in Egham.  It was a castle-like old country house, an impressive setting for weddings, and conveniently located just off the M4, on which I had traveled back to Wales.
A weekend of surprises and pleasure awaited me ─ his choice of words.  We were booked into the Tower Room that in itself sounded promising, idyllic, unique, private and secluded (hem, phallic?) for a love encounter like ours – a real lovers’ nest.....

A spiral staircase led up to the Tower Room.
“Wow, this is neat!” I said sitting down on the bed.  “I feel like a princess.”
“That’s exactly the treatment you are going to get.” Having stored our luggage, we both nestled down on the bed in each other’s arMs. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door, a delivery to the room – for me! A big hamper basket with a selection of delicious chocolates beautifully wrapped with a red ribbon.  A card said, “May your stay in London be a memorable one!” I was speechless.
“I thought I’d get you something different.  You probably get so many flowers anyway.” Little did he know I could count the number of bunches I ever got on my fingers.  We spent the remainder of the afternoon, feeding each other chocolates and sipping champagne, kissing, hugging, munching, and telling each other about what happened since Spain.  All of that was foreplay.
We weren’t hungry for dinner, only hungry for each other; and not so much the sex part as each other’s company.  Just the way it had been in Spain before.  Nevertheless, we both got dressed up and had an exquisite dinner in the castle’s intimate little dining room along with only three other couples.  The hotel was booked out, but all the other guests were attending a wedding in the conservatory....

This guy was an absolute gas man – just what I needed – and sexy and caring to boot.  On our way up in the lift, Guy fell on his knees between two floors, lifted my skirt and licked me between my legs.  Thanks goodness nobody stopped the lift to join us.
Yeah, Guy liked the thrill of potentially being found out.  Another venue was the staircase in the hotel, kind of safe, because most people preferred the lift.   .....

The score after two days was Germany: 6 and England: 2, but we both felt like winners.  How I wanted more of this! So I decided to invite Guy to Dublin for a visit....

We had to wait about another four weeks until we managed to get together again.  My son was away on his annual vacation with his dad when Guy came to see me in Ireland.  By then, some pressure-cooked horniness had built up on both sides.  I went to the airport prepared with two champagne glasses, chocolates, and the sparkling chilling in a wine cooler.  This friendly welcome surprised even a daredevil like him.  We climbed in the back of my van in the multistory car park.  I had chosen a badly illuminated spot to have some privacy from prying eyes.
“Wow, lady, this is something else!” he remarked between sips in the back seat.
“This is what the Irish call Cead Mile Faĩlte.” I mumbled fiddling with his pants, “the land of the thousand welcomes.”
“You cheeky monkey!” But he liked it – I could tell.
“I thought you might be hungry when you arrive.”  I shoved another yummy piece of chocolate in his mouth, licking my fingers seductively.  Then I started to suck on him.  He was moaning with pleasure, but inexplicably, he was nervous, looking over his shoulders from time to time.  We managed to consume the champagne and most of the sweets, but not to consummate our love making since I was too afraid of being caught, as well.  We drove home, knowing a long weekend of relaxation, seduction, and pleasuring each other lay ahead of us.

For the rest of this  sexcapade go to:


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