My name is Tim. I am not, nor have I ever been, married. I have never wanted to be married. I know and have known some very special women. They have shown me that there are a large number of women who, through no fault of their own, are stuck in a loveless or at least a sexless life and that they are expected to endure it because of their ages or ‘position’ in life. Quite a few of them do something about it when the right opportunity arises.
I consider myself to be amongst the most fortunate of people on this planet. I was fortunate to be the possessor of a six-foot tall body, strong, healthy, and “un-ugly.” I was also blessed with a large penis and the stamina and constitution of an Ox to use it. I am well aware that size isn’t everything, but you can learn the rest of the requirements! I am addicted to females, I am besotted with breasts, and vaginas’ and I hope that never fades away. There are of course exceptions, but considering the size of the female population, I am happy with the remainder.
I have led a very comfortable lifestyle filled with sex, lust, and love. All of this provided by a woman I have always thought of as ‘Granny’. I may be shallow but I’m incredibly happy!
I am lucky to have an almost photographic memory, if I’ve seen it I can nearly always recall it, no matter how long ago it happened. Unfortunately, my recall for conversations is no-where near as good so although the events I describe are certainly accurate, I have had to fill in some blanks in my memory of conversations with what I believe is a fair approximation of what was said.
For the benefit of those who are easily confused:
Stamina and Constitution have nothing to do with the possession of balls.
Google “Angela Mudge” (She is a world champion mountain marathon runner.)
Also: 10″ is nothing unusual
This is My Story:
Date: February 1965
When I was 19, I moved in with Granny, she wasn’t my Granny, but she quite liked being called Granny. She did say that she had a granddaughter somewhere whom she never saw and although I knew that, her granddaughter was not a nice person, (her words,) I never found out why. Her own daughter and son-in law were rarely ever mentioned, a really closely-knit family they were not, and it was easy to see that it saddened her.
My grandparents were dead; my dad drove long haul trucks all over Europe. One day, when I was 19, he took a truck and the next-door neighbour; we never saw or heard of them again except to learn that the truck, which had been loaded with scotch destined for Russia, was found in a German forest minus its’ load. The next-door neighbour’s wife merely moved her boyfriend in, so I suppose dad had done her a favour,). A month later, my 21-year-old sister joined the armed forces.
Therefore, my mother had to work. Even though I called them mother and sister they weren’t my own blood as I had been adopted. My real mother had been a single mother who had put me up for adoption. My adoptive mother had a bad time giving birth to her daughter and was unable to have any more children. She had always wanted two children so she and ‘dad’ opted for adoption and were successful.
Before her marriage she had been a nurse and that helped her to get jobs as a nanny for the children of wealthy families, but that meant living, and if required, travelling, with the families which meant that I had to find a room somewhere else, not an easy thing to do if you wanted somewhere clean to rent.
Granny had actually advertised for a live-in companion, but, in desperation to find somewhere to live, I answered the ad’ and found the address to be that of a large house in very large grounds on the edge of the city, almost completely surrounded by fields and woods. She was about sixty years old, 5’8″ tall, shapely, lovely legs and very well groomed.