Warm Up My Cockles Baby
Well, we ain't in Winter actually - it just feels like it in Melbourne and the blasts of icy air make you want to curl up with someone super sweet and just cuddle up under the doona. Melbourne's turned on the most freezing autumn in history (well, in my memory anyways), and we're all running round trying to get used to it. Good forms of adaptation include drinking lots of high grade wine, eating warm, roasted chestnuts and looking like a stumbling fool in front of thousands of people while you try and do impossible gravity-defying, gyrating salsa movements at an al fresco Latin dance class on wet grass. So I obliged yesterday at the Latin Wine Funk Festival in the undulating hills of the Rochford Winery in the Yarra Valley.
We all started off rugged up in our winter woolies, there was great pushing and shoving to huddle in around the open fire and the atmosphere was a tad reserved. By the end of the day, liquid amber was flowing through our veins, many layers of clothing had been stripped off and the dance floor (read wet muddy lawn) was a sea of synchronised samba, shimmies and shakes interrupted by the occasional bumbling fool who'd consumed far too much alcohol and was simply rolling and cavorting around on the wet ground. Then the piggy-backing started, the pulling of girl's g's up into the nether regions resulting in squeals of resentment (read pure delight at the attention) and a mass of hot bods looking for more action at the after party. The air was infused with seductive, "I wanna fuck you" looks and I'm sure those dreams were realised by many by the time the night was out. All in all, it was a super day.
Given I gotta wait till October for the Cuban Jazz festival, I thought I'd better put some other things in place to keep the blood pumping and the juices flowing. A new masseur has just started working at a place I work at part time and all the staff get a free first massage. Trouble is, the guy is super, super, super hot! Drop-dead-gorgeous-like hot. While this might sound great, it's actually a bit of a challenge. While I'm supposed to be relaxing while he works my muscles, I'm gonna be fantasising about rolling him onto the table and massaging his entire body with mine. How's a gal supposed to relax under these stimulating circumstances I ask you? While his sign says he does, relaxation, remedial and lymphatic massages, I reckon I might have to add, "Sexually Stimulating, Super Turn On Massages" to the list. In the ideal world, unless you're gonna fuck him, a masseur needs to be either female or rather ugly - that way you're not left with an irresistible urge to lock the door, get those oils smoothed all over everywhere and consummate what would be a very delightful afternoon. What's your take on masseurs? Hot or not?
My fav band has regrouped, with a different make-up, and start Wednesday week. Again, this is gonna be a sublime winter warmer. Uninhibited dancing to super groovy music for three or so hours is enough to piss any cold and crap off into the wind. It's almost better than sex...I said almost. Ideally, you do the three hours of uninhibited dancing followed by three hours of uninhibited sex. Yeah!
What do the changing seasons do to your sex life? Lots of guys I know reckon summer's the big turn on time? I reckon winter's sexier in a more subtle, romantic sort of way, and conjures up images of shaggy rugs and fireplaces. Autumn? Dunno, maybe drop your clothes like trees drop their leaves, stand there bare naked and see what happens. What do you reckon? Juji x
