Part Two . . . it Never Rains, but it Pours

S called on my way into work on Thursday morning . . . we almost always chat the morning after an “evening” together as I travel into the office on the bus. I’d reassured him that I really had enjoyed our time together and we agreed to try and arrange another night within the next fortnight. We’d just said our goodbyes and I’d slipped my phone back into my handbag when it rang again. It was V . . . he was back in town, just for two days, and wanted to meet-up that evening “to make up for cancelling last time”.

I told him I hadn’t expected him to be back in London for another month and couldn’t just drop everything at such short notice. I was annoyed at him, and annoyed at myself at the same time, because I knew I wanted to see him. I told him I’d think about it and he should call me again at the office after lunch.

I was tingling for the rest of my journey . . . knowing that J was looking forward to “an early night” after my evening with S the night before. (We always have wonderfully passionate times in the days immediately following one of my evenings). I’d already changed my mind several times over by the time I got to the office. I was annoyed that V thought he could just call on such short notice, annoyed because I hadn’t dressed in anything other than my normal work outfit, annoyed because I knew J would be upset, (even if he said he wouldn’t be), annoyed because . . . well . . . annoyed because I knew I wanted it, wanted to see him, annoyed because it may be the only opportunity for another few months.

He called mid-morning. Would I like to do lunch instead? “No, I don’t want lunch”, I told him. “What do you want then?” he asked . . . I paused and then angrily repeated into the phone, “I just don’t want lunch!”. I hated feeling myself giving in, I didn’t want him to think he could just call me up on a whim, whenever he wanted it, not caring to give me a few days warning. There was a long, long pause, and then a nervous laugh . . . His apartment was still being used. I seized the moment of having the upper hand “well, you’ll have to book me a room then, won’t you, if you really want to see me!” He said he’d call back in a few minutes.

And he did . . . and, as always, never doing anything in short measure . . . it was a very exclusive, very expensive hotel. I told him I hadn’t even asked J if it was alright yet. “Where shall we have dinner?” he said. “I don’t want dinner” I nervously hissed back. “Don’t you want to see me?” he asked. “Yes . . . Yes, I do” I found myself answering.

J’s voice betrayed his initial annoyance when I called him. He quickly changed his tone though and said “twice in two nights, go for it.” I told him I wouldn’t go if he really didn’t want me to, but he said that of course he wanted me to go, “just text when you’re on your way home” he said.

V insisted on picking me up from the office in a cab. He got out to open the door for me, kissed me warmly and sat next to me squeezing my hand as he leant forward to give the driver the address. I felt excited to be sitting there knowing the cabbie could probably hear our conversation as V asked me if I was sure I didn’t want to eat first. “We can order room service”, I answered.

The room was wonderful . . . and the bathroom just lovely. I told him I would like to run a bath and just soak. He joined me, as I undressed, and started reading from the room service menu. I told him I really wasn’t hungry and actually much preferred wine to champagne, but it seemed silly not to indulge just a little in such an expensive hotel. V remained clothed, waiting for our “snacks” to arrive, but sat on the edge of the bath as I lounged and he started telling me how his new venture in the City was going (the reason that his apartment was occupied and probably would remain so for the forseeable future).

The trolley arrived and V brought in two lovely large stem glasses. I told him he should undress and get in with me as there was certainly enough room. (I remembered with a tingle, the much, much more compact shower I’d shared with S the previous night!). V returned from the main room, now completely naked, with a tray of au dourves. He really has a nice figure for his age and I was envious of his flat tummy as he sat back down on the edge of the bath and started to feed me from the platter. I told him I felt completely decadent and spoiled, lounging in a heavily scented bubble bath, sipping champagne and being fed by “a naked waiter”. “Have you forgiven me then?” he asked. I wasn’t sure if he meant forgiven for cancelling our last planned meeting at such short notice . . . or forgiven him for arranging this meeting at such short notice. “No, not yet!” I teased. “Can you turn round and face me please, I don’t like talking to your back and shoulder”. He lifted his legs round into the bath, putting his glass down on the corner and leant forward again to feed me another mouthful from the platter. I liked looking at the plumpness of his willy sitting on top of his sacs, and I remembered how I’d once described it to J as being “like a big slug when it’s limp”. I tingled at the memory of how much he’d enjoyed my descriptions of the rest of V’s body. I was getting quite carried away . . . the champagne, the warmth of the bubbles, the situation I was in, and the fact that his “slug” was growing and beginning to lift upwards.

I pushed the tray away and told him to “come in with me”. He slid in with his legs either side of mine and then we both slid ourselves forwards, lifting our knees up so we could kiss. We fed each other sips from each others glass and laughed as our kisses became swapping spurts of champagne, and my glass quickly seemed to empty. “I’ll forgive you if you get up to get me some more!” I told him. He looked lovely as he returned with the bottle, water and soap bubbles dripping off him onto the marble floor. . . and his willy, much firmer now, bobbing and swaying as he got back into the bath. He told me how much he’d missed my company, and my language, and how our Sunday afternoon and trip to the airport at our last meeting had been the “most exciting few hours of my life”. I told him I was sure he was exaggerating . . . but I loved hearing it all the same and I could feel myself feeling more and more aroused.

“I want to get out now” I said, and stood up in front of him. He continued sitting for a moment, leaning back and telling me “what a wonderful view” . . . he stood up as well, kissing my tummy and each breast and then my neck and cheek. We squeezed together in an engulfing embrace and I could feel his erection sliding over my tummy. We got out and dried each other with the wonderfully fresh huge white towels hanging on the rack. I deliberately lingered with the drying of his willy . . . and then dropped down in front of him to slide my mouth over him. I could hear him gasping as I sucked up and down and then up again, letting it pop out of my mouth and then licking down its length with my tongue before sliding my mouth down completely over him again. It felt thick and warm in my mouth, and I knelt down more on the mat now so that I could reach up and gently cup his sacs in my hands. He doesn’t like me squeezing them, but even when he’s erect they always seem quite heavy and I love the feeling of holding them at the same time. He had a hand on each of my shoulders and was just standing whilst I rocked back and forth with my mouth. I ran my hands round behind him now, stroking up his legs and then holding his bottom, pulling him forward to meet the rhythm of my sucking. He pulled away though and leant down to lift me up. “Lets try the bedroom” he said.

It was wonderfully comfortable as he lay me backwards onto the bed and then gently pushed my legs apart and knelt between me. “Now it is your turn” he said, and started leaning forward to lick at me. “God you taste so sweet” he told me. I remembered S telling me the same thing the night before and it made me tingle even more. He lifted up to slide up my tummy to start on my nipples. They felt like they were going to burst. “Suck them harder” I whispered. I felt his willy bump against my lips and scrape over me as he lifted further up to start on my other nipple. I reached down between our tummies to try to push it back down towards my pussy. He lifted up off the bed slightly so that I could hold it and then guide it in. I slid my other hand down between us, opening my lips more. My clit felt as hard as my nipples. I was gasping and loving it as he continued sucking and I felt him pushing into me. “Fuck me” I told him. His pushes began to get more rhythmic, but he still seemed more interested in my nipples. I could hear myself moaning and urging him “more”.

As he lifted up onto his elbows, I reached down to slide him out and then turned over onto my knees. I didn’t say anything, but I was feeling really aroused and as he pushed forward I felt myself pushing my pussy straight back over him. He had his hands on my hips at first as he started stroking back and forth, but I reached back to pull his right hand up under my tummy back to my breast. “Squeeze” I was gasping to him. I re-balanced myself and then reached back with my left hand to guide his other hand away from my tummy and down to my lips instead. I could hear my moaning getting louder, “clitty, clitty” as his fingers rubbed round and round my lips and his other hand was squeezing from one nipple to the other. I came with huge gasps, falling forward onto my tummy and pushing his hand away from underneath me as I pulled my knees up in my foetal position as I rocked myself still. I could hear his breathing quite loud and opened my eyes to see him kneeling next to me holding his erection and his stomach muscles straining in time with his deep breaths. I pulled my hand from under my knees and reached out to stroke him. He leant back slightly with his hands on his hips. “Come on” I urged him as I stroked more quickly. At first I thought my stroking was going to be in vain, but then I could see his knees flexing and his tummy tightening and he burst with almost whispered gasps (in contrast to my much louder groaning minutes earlier). It splashed over my hips and legs, and down onto the sheets. Lots and lots of it. I still wanted just to lie still, continuing my recovery, but he got up immediately to find a towel and wipe my legs and then the bed. I was giggling at his concern, “I’m sure even here they’re used to stains on the bed linen”. “Especially here” he agreed.

He returned to the bed with more nibbles, and more champagne. I told him it was quite bizarre having a picnic on the bed sheets in such an exclusive hotel. We chatted about business and my problems at the office. He offered advice and suggestions and lots more questions than I had answers for. The champagne was soon finished and he said he’d call up for more, but I told him I couldn’t drink any more champagne. “Wine then” he said. I found myself agreeing . . . and feeling naughty and decadent again as I lounged back on the bed and watched him searching for a robe as he started to unpack his suitcase and hang things up in the wardrobe. I’ve never seen anyone so unconcerned about being naked. If it had been me, or J, and certainly S, I knew we’d all at least have wrapped a towel around ourselves. It was lovely.

“You know I can’t stay.” I told him. I knew he was staying overnight, but suddenly thought he was assuming I could as well. He nodded. Then pulled on a robe to answer the door.

We sat together in bed, talking more and playing with kissing each other with wine kisses. He kept trying to play with my breasts again, but I had to push his fingers away telling him they were too sensitive now. But he eventually caught me off guard and leant forward to slurp a mouthful of wine onto my nipple. The sensation was gasping and I just lay backwards and let him repeat the dribbling onto my other breast. He worked from breast to breast and the tingling was making me suddenly really really aroused again, they felt bursting hard but were still sensitive. I lifted up and slid up over onto his chest. I loved the look on his face as I slid myself forwards on him, lifting my pussy up over his chin and dropping it down onto his mouth. I was lifting up to make his tongue follow me upwards and then rotating my hips back slightly to trail his tongue around between my cheeks. “God you are smooth everywhere” he gasped out as I swivelled back and forth. “Mmm, I really like that” I told him. Finally he was letting me direct his tongue to my bottom. I swivelled it back to my lips again and then back to my bottom. He’d always pulled away from there before, now he was keeping his tongue there. Hard and pushing. I could actually feel it inside as I pushed down on it, then lifted up and round to my lips again. “Oh, not just my clitty” I told him as I felt his tongue flicking faster and settling there. I didn’t want it just there, I didn’t want to give him the opportunity to stop now that he’d started. I swivelled back, his tongue followed and pushed again. “Fucking love that” I groaned and pushed down on him. He was mumbling and pulled away, I swivelled forwards again hoping my gasps wouldn’t show my disappointment. “Do you really like it there?” he said. “Sometimes” I replied. “Do you do it there?” he asked. “Sometimes” I gasped back. Swivelling backwards again. His tongue followed . . . and stayed. I pushed against it, felt it in again. I was swooning, thinking that I couldn’t possibly take his cock there, he was too thick, even with gel, I wouldn’t be able to.

This time I came with a long shuddering groan, knowing I was swearing and gasping as I rubbed, quite violently, all of me over his face and chin. I fell forward off him and rolled onto the pillow. Gasping and swearing more as he held me by my ankles. He pulled me away from the headboard, I was still shaking and shuddering. “Does it always make you like that?” his question was almost one of concern rather than curiousity. I couldn’t tell him it had been more from the thoughts I’d been having, rather than the physical proximity of his tongue and his licking. I just managed to gasp out another “Sometimes” answer before I buried my face into the pillow. It was nice to feel him sliding up besides me and cuddling his arm across my back.

We lay without speaking for sometime until I suddenly felt an aching cramp in my leg. I was writhing and trying to stretch out my leg. “Cramp, can you massage it” I was swinging the leg around, trying to straighten it and ease the pain. He sat up and started working on it. Immediately I felt it working and the soothing feeling of the muscles not pulling in all the wrong directions. I looked down at him massaging my calf and could see his erection dangling wonderfully on an angle as he knelt beside me. “It’s ok now, it’s gone, it’s fine” I said as I slid down the bed, grasping his willy and rolling him over onto his back. He was asking “Are you sure”. I had to nod my assurances . . . I was already sucking down on him. The angle was just right. I could lift my mouth up and curl my fingers around him pushing down again with my mouth and look down past my knuckles at his sacs bulging as I pushed his cock down onto them. He quickly relaxed and let me snuggle more against his side and continue my stroking and sucking. I could hear his breathing getting quicker as I increased the pace, and then little gasps as I slowed, teasing him by lifting away slightly, grasping him with both hands and licking around and around his head with my tongue. Then sucking over him again, my mouth pushing first one hand, then the other, away as I sucked hard down onto him. His hips began bucking, slowly at first, then pumping up against my hand faster and stronger. I lifted my mouth away, resting my cheek on his tummy and stroking with both hands wrapped around him. The spurts shot out in little bursts at first and then as his thrusts upwards with his hips slowed, turned to a dribble of white running out and down over my fingers. I released my grip and leant forwards to kiss his balls and then sat up and rubbed my hand over him, rubbing it over his sacs and then up to rub it over my nipples. He looked at me grinning and shaking his head. I laughed and told him “I love it on my boobies, it’s good moistening cream”.

We stretched out alongside each other again. “I’ll have to be going home soon” I told him. He nodded, but then started asking me about my “admission”. I didn’t know what he meant at first, but then told him off that “it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, lots of people do it!” I told him I couldn’t believe he’d never done it. But he was insistent that he’d never tried, or never had a woman saying they wanted it. He wanted to know more than I wanted to tell him, becoming frustrated with my answers of just “sometimes”. It was past midnight, well past midnight. I’d long since turned my phone alarm off. I insisted he really had to let me get up and get dressed and that I had to get home. “Perhaps we can talk about it more next time!”.

V arranged for a taxi and then got dressed as well and accompanied me down to the foyer when it arrived. I felt quite naughty again kissing him goodbye as he opened the door to the taxi. I texted J as we drove round Hyde Park Corner. “Hope you’re waiting up for me”. His reply came through almost immediately, “with wine and ???”. It made me giggle and I texted back “Twice in two nights. Do you mind me being so naughty?”

It Never Rains, but it Pours . . . Part One

S and I hadn’t seen each other for over a month . . . since our “sleepover” . . . so I was really looking forward to meeting with him on Wednesday evening. Even more so as it has been a simply horrible few weeks at the office (so much so that I am beginning to regret turning down the chance of a change of job I was offered before Christmas).

After weeks of miserable weather it had been a bright and sunny day and I felt wonderful in the cab as I travelled to our restaurant in Hampstead. S was already waiting for me and it was really nice to be greeted with his embrace and a warm lingering kiss. We spent an enjoyable meal catching-up on everything that had happened since Christmas and then walked arm-in-arm up the hill to where he’d parked his car. We sat for several minutes in the dark, kissing and fondling with increasing passion as we both agreed it had been “too long”.

Our kisses continued once we arrived at the hotel . . . even more passionately as we shared the excitement of realising we’d spent time in this same room on one of our earliest visits to “our hotel”. We undressed each other in-between our fondles and caresses, with S trying to convince me we didn’t need to shower . . . but I had to insist that I wouldn’t feel comfortable without “washing all my bits first!”

The bath was too small for us both to stand comfortably underneath the shower together . . . as I finished I wrapped myself in the towel he handed me and sat on the toilet seat, reaching forward to soap “him” each time he turned-round under the water. We laughed and cuddled each other across the room to the bed and rolled back and forwards on each other as we resumed our kissing and stroking.

I felt wonderful as I stretched out my legs and lay back whilst he ran his tongue all around my breasts and down my tummy. I opened my legs wider as he slid down between them, gasping as he lifted up to say I was “really, really wet” before he leant forward again to flick his tongue up and down over me. After just a few minutes of him licking and then sliding his fingers around and into me I felt I would come too quickly so asked him to “come up and kiss me, I want to taste myself on your tongue”. It felt wonderfully warm as I sucked his tongue into my mouth. I felt him adjusting his position, lifting one leg over my chest and then sitting up on me as he leant forward kissing me more. He was sitting on my tummy now and was kissing me much more passionately than I would normally allow him to. I pulled my face away and looked down between our chests . . . “that look’s lovely” I told him and reached up to stroke his erection and then pull it downwards onto one of my nipples. It felt nice scraping the ridge of him over first one and then the other as I twisted slightly from side to side, pulling his willy onto me with the palm of my hand behind its head and sliding him across me from right to left and then back again. He was whispering how nice it felt and then suddenly started straining forwards on me pushing himself in hard strokes with his hips thrusting up and down. Quite quickly his thrusts became faster and faster and I knew he was going to come. His moans were getting louder and his pushing harder and his cock pushed forwards almost to my chin, and then pulled away, and then thrust forward again. I first saw a clear little glisten of moisture in the eye of his head and then . . . with the next gasp and thrust forwards . . . a white, bursting blob and then a flash and splashing feeling as it shot forwards. I felt it on my cheek and then again and further this time onto my neck and ear with the next pulling back and thrusting forwards. He was gasping out an apology at the same time as thrusting back and forwards again as I held onto his back and tried to pull him further down on my tummy. Normally S doesn’t come as quickly, or as loudly, so I knew he had really needed the release. I could feel it dribbling off my chin and neck as I lifted up to kiss him and then roll him over onto his back. He was still moaning his apologies . . . I lifted myself up onto his tummy, squelching myself over him, rubbing it into the both of us. I held my finger over his mouth and told him to “shsssh” and “I love seeing you let go like that”. We rolled into an embrace on our sides and I told him to pull the blankets over us as I snuggled into his shoulder and kissed his neck and stroked his arm.

I woke up with him shaking me . . . “your phone’s ringing!”. It was my alarm going-off . . . we’d slept for almost two hours . . . I struggled out of the bed to my bag, cursing as I realised how late it was. “Why don’t we stay over again?” he asked as I sat back down on the side of the bed. I reminded him how lucky we’d been to have that night together and that I was sure we would be able to have another “sleepover” some time, but “I just can’t tonight”.

J was waiting up in his usual place on the sofa. He was disappointed that I hadn’t come home naked under my coat, until I teased him with . . . “well S certainly enjoyed undressing me” . . . and then stepping away from him, “I’d like a glass of wine first please . . . and then one of my wands” . . .

Just got back from . . .

. . . a Saturday morning run with friends. The first with all of us together since Christmas. It was really nice to chat and catch-up with all the gossip and news . . . stopped for coffee in the park . . . lovely, and just in time obviously as I’ve just got in and it’s started snowing !!!

I’m just running a bath and going to soak ALL afternoon. J is taking my daughter and myself out this evening for dinner and a movie . . . and I’m really looking forward to the weekend away from any thoughts of work!!

It’s been just a horrible two weeks at the office working on a new big project . . . lots of long days and late nights home.

But I just wanted to say “thank you” for all the messages and worried questions about my lack of posts. I’m fine, just had no time, or energy, for anything other than what has been going on in the office. S wants to meet for an evening next week, but we haven’t arranged anything yet . . .

There are lots and lots of messages in my in-box to go through . . . I promise I will try and reply to all that I can . . . but please don’t forget that many of the questions you are asking are answered on my Frequently Asked Questions page: http://www.scarletsecrets.co.uk/edithspics/edithsaffairsfaqs.html

I’m off to my bubbles and (an early) glass of wine !!

Best wishes - Edith

Disappointment from V . . .

Since our lunch the previous week, I’d been really looking forward to meeting with V again on Tuesday, especially as our two meetings before Christmas had been so wonderful and fulfilling. But . . .

I’d had a waxing on Monday after work, and had brought in a complete change of clothes into the office the next morning. The day was already dragging by when just after 11 my secretary called through to say he was on the line. I could tell immediately from his voice that he was going to cancel . . . and sure enough, “something has come up that I just can’t change”.

I can’t go into his explanations here, but anyway, our evening was not to be . . .

A hugely disappointing start to the week . . . and what makes it even more disappointing is that he now won’t be back in London for at least another month!!

Relaxing Sunday . . .

Nice morning at the gym yesterday. J and I joined R at his table in the cafe afterwards and chatted about his holiday. (He'd been back home for New Year).

J was being very suggestive about how much all the ladies must have missed him.
I could tell R was uncomfortable, and I was kicking J under the table in my annoyance.

R made his apologies quite quickly and said he had to start his next shift. I told J he had been silly and embarrassing . . . (but I felt quite tingly as well).

J and I had the house to ourselves in the afternoon and spent a few hours "cuddling" and dozing and cuddling and dozing. It was really lovely and relaxing. I told J that I'd needed it, and deserved it. He said he'd needed it and deserved it as well !

He'll probably complain later in the week though . . . I didn't get any ironing done !!

Best wishes - Edith

I apologise . . .

Thank you for all the comments . . . and messages . . . regarding my Mrs Robinson post.

It seems I did not properly research my subject thoroughly enough (forgetting the first rule of marketing!!).

Yes, Mrs Robinson is apparently on record as making some very anti-homosexuality remarks . . . and as many of you have RIGHTLY pointed-out, there should be not be ANY sympathy for someone making such stupid, and unjust, and in-humane, comments.

My previous entry was NOT MEANT in any way to defend such comments, nor to defend her apparent abuse of her position to influence business contacts in regard to loans etc. etc.

Mistakes, we all make them (and I admit I made one in my lack of research), however those in public office SHOULD be expected to be much more prudent and circumspect in the way they conduct their affairs (no pun intended!!!).

Though I still feel sadness for her family, I will NOW get-down off MY OWN high-horse, and apologise for my lack of forethought, and retract my declarations of sympathy.

I could, of course, delete the previous post . . . but that would be tantamount to trying to destroy the evidence of my own errors of judgement (of which of course there have been many, but possibly few so public).

Humbly yours - Edith

Mrs Robinson

I’ve had numerous messages over the past few days mentioning the predicament that Iris Robinson and her husband have found themselves in. (For overseas readers: Both Ministers in the Northern Ireland assembly).

Many of the messages have been quite scathing and critical of her actions, and asking my opinion given my “Spur of the Moment Moment” last June.

I do understand (from personal experience), how she could find the attentions of a younger man exciting, and arousing . . . I certainly did . . . and, of course, we ALL make mistakes, and errors of judgement in both our personal, and business, life.

So I do sympathise with her on that level. I know that I always enjoyed looking at R’s body during our gym work-outs, and I know I was very flirtatious with him, and enjoyed his attentions and his responses. Of course, my situation was made even more exciting by the fact that J was always pointing out how obvious it was that R “fancied me”. And when I unexpectedly found myself with the opportunity to “indulge” in that spur of the moment meeting, I found it tremendously flattering, and exciting, and arousing . . . so much so, that I couldn’t, or didn’t even want to resist his advances. The opportunity presented itself and it just happened.

In actuality, it wasn’t wonderfully fulfilling . . . but it WAS flattering and exciting. So, in that respect, I can understand how Mrs Robinson may have found herself in a similar situation, and a similar frame of mind, and just succumbed to that spontaneous sexual combustion that sometimes just happens inside ALL of us. And I don’t care how many people say they would NEVER do that sort of thing . . . I KNOW that every one of us, have, or will, at some time or another, find that uncontrollable biological urge that makes us forget all reason and morality and danger. I TRULY believe that. No matter what your religion, gender or position (or perhaps sometimes BECAUSE of the moral pressures of your religion, gender or position) we will ALL at some point succumb to that special release, or temptation.

I admit that I enjoy occasionally succumbing to those temptations . . . I enjoy being able to forget for brief moments in time my responsibilities to family and friends. BUT I do realise that at least I am able to release myself to those flattering and exciting feelings from time to time, because of the wonderful relationship I share with my husband. Mrs Robinson, unfortunately, probably felt she wouldn’t be able to share those feelings with the person closest to her . . . and that is what I feel is the saddest aspect of her situation. Not that she found herself indulging in something exciting and different and forbidden, but that she felt that the only way she could indulge in that relationship, was to do it secretly, behind her husbands back.

And, I am sure that it is because of that moral, personal, pressure she must have felt that she could only continue her excitement, and affair, in SECRET and without SHARING it with her husband, that she suddenly found the situation spiralling into the other unfortunate aspects of the situation she found herself in. Arranging a loan for her young lover, using her political position to convince unknowing friends or associates to help this young man get a start in life. She just, very probably, felt it all spinning quickly out of control in the course of a few weeks. Things that may have been said, or promised, in the heat of a few passionate evenings that were helping her forget the pressures of her political and family life, just suddenly grew into much more than she would ever have imagined.

Of course, being in the position she was, perhaps she should have considered things much more carefully. BUT she probably had NO-ONE she felt she could turn to, no-one she could share her feelings, her guilt, her worries with.

It is terribly sad for her husband, and his political career, and for her family . . . sad for EVERYONE involved. But I challenge all the people who are getting on their high-horse and saying that in her position she “should have known better” . . . I challenge all of them just to stop and reflect for a moment, and think to themselves . . . and ADMIT to themselves . . . that somewhere in their past, at some point, or instance, in their lives . . . have they not felt a spontaneous, sexual moment, lead them to somewhere they never dreamed they would go.

I pray for Mrs (and Mr) Robinson . . . not for their political careers, but for their personal well-being. I wish them hope . . . and happiness.

Best wishes - Edith