One of the odd lots in my life is that I’ve been a rebound guy. I’d like to think it’s not by reputation (perhaps it is), and more by demeanour.
The demeanour being that my foremost value in the bedroom is absolute discretion – and as I get on with age, it’s a value I find more and more people undertake.
Yes, I acknowledge the contradiction of noting it, before I openly illustrate an experience. Take that for what it is.
About a year ago I joined a book club on a friend’s suggestion – it’s a large group, and there are these monthly meetups, where only a small handful of group members actually make the meetups. I make an effort in going, as I need a little regularity of non-work, non-alcohol related extracurricular activity.
Vanessa runs the group, and she’s the dedicated type. Posting daily on the group’s Facebook page to keep the conversations rolling, that sort of thing. A valiant effort, as I find most of the group aren’t totally into the whole thing – results may vary, a lot of box ticking with New Year’s Resolutions, that sort of thing.