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Posts Tagged ‘France’

Oh, sweet homecoming

Posted in Contended sexagenarians, Frisky sexagenarians, Happy sexagenarians, Lusty sexagenarians, retirement sex, sex after fifty, sex after forty, sex after sixty, the joy of senior sex, tropical sex, tagged , , , , , on 16/06/2009 | Leave a Comment »

Travelling is fun but homecoming is better. Strict grammarians might quibble at this sentence but I can’t think of a shorter, more compelling way to describe my thoughts as our Boeing came to a halt on the tarmac and the staff opened the cabin doors to let in fresh tropical island paradise air after an [...]

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Assisted recall

Posted in Contended sexagenarians, Frisky sexagenarians, Happy sexagenarians, Lusty sexagenarians, retirement sex, sex after fifty, sex after forty, sex after sixty, the joy of senior sex, tropical sex, tagged , , , , , on 13/05/2009 | Leave a Comment »

It has finally come to pass. Our Euro 2009 trip is well underway. Judy and I are currently in central France from where I have the distinct pleasure of writing these words on a borrowed laptop. After breakfast on a sheltered veranda overlooking an estimated million or so vines as far as the eye can [...]

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You can go back

Posted in Contended sexagenarians, Frisky sexagenarians, Happy sexagenarians, Lusty sexagenarians, retirement sex, sex after fifty, sex after forty, sex after sixty, tropical sex, tagged , , , , on 18/03/2009 | Leave a Comment »

Nothing fascinates the human mind more than the prospect of travelling back in time. Except perhaps the chance of tip-toeing tentatively into the future.
I have no interest in the latter, I’m old enough and – I hope – wise enough to have grasped ‘whatever will be, will be.’ Or ‘Que Sera, Sera’ as Doris Day [...]

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If only…

Posted in Contended sexagenarians, Frisky sexagenarians, Happy sexagenarians, caribbean sex, sex after fifty, sex after forty, sex after sixty, the joy of senior sex, tagged , , , , on 11/03/2009 | Leave a Comment »

Something we all do – but only with care – is to look back and wonder what would have happened if… (a) I hadn’t met Judy at that party in New York’s Greenwich Village and we haven’t been apart since, (b) I’d accepted the offer to start as a cub reporter for the Chicago Tribune [...]

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