sex warehouse

1. I’m nineteen and a virgin, which status I would love to change.

2. I’ve had two sexual experiences in my life involving more than kissing. One was non-consensual when I was very drunk, and the other came with an awful lot of emotional baggage in other ways. For more details, see below.

3. I’ve had one boyfriend and one girlfriend. I only dated the guy because I was desperate to get kissed before I was fifteen. He wasn’t a very good kisser and I wasn’t attracted to him, though it felt good walking round with him knowing that people could see we were together. My girlfriend was a more complex relationship from around when I was 15 to around 17; it’s kind of hazy because it was very off-again, on-again. We were best friends first and neither of us had been with a girl before, the whole relationship was very stressful and awkward. We only had one sexual experience together and that was in the first half of the first year of our “relationship”

4. Said sexual experience involved a lot of alcohol and much writhing around and groping. We did not undress and touched each other’s privates maybe once each for maximum a minute, not even long enough to feel properly aroused. At one point I think she wanted to go down on me but I stopped her. After that we slept in my single bed and I felt hellishly awkward, trying to make sure she got enough space and that I didn’t snore/dribble etc.

5. The next two years of our “relationship” mainly consisted of me sitting next to her yearning but unable to talk about it or kiss her. We kissed maybe half a dozen times, only once without being drunk. During that time I felt very conflicted about my sexuality and whether I was attracted to her or not. In hindsight I think that it would have gone much better had at least one of us been more mature, and that it could have been a good relationship if we’d had more courage.

6. Saying that, eventually she ended it by messaging me on Facebook to say that she figured out that she was straight. It was very painful, both the message and the fact she told me over bloody Facebook. After that we didn’t talk or see each other for a year, in which time I got over her and we are now very close friends again.

7. The non-consensual experience happened shortly after the above anecdote occurred. My friends and I at that time used to socialize by getting wasted in parks. On this particular occasion I got very emotional and just wanted to hug this guy, he took me over to a secluded bench and started making out with me. I was too out of it to really know what was going on, but I know he put his hands down my pants but I made him stop, and that he pushed my hand into his own trousers and I touched him for a little while before I got away. That’s the first and only time I’ve had first-hand (ha, excuse pun) experience of a penis. It was unpleasant and confused me, because at that point I kinda subconsciously thought any sexual experience was meant to be good sexual experience. I remember for a week afterwards I was terrified that somehow he might have had semen on his hand and gotten me pregnant, which is totally ridiculous but I’ve always been a hypochondriac. Remembering this has made me see that it was actually quite a traumatic experience for me, but that I’ve never really thought of it in that light.

8. Relatedly, I know that when I do have sex I’m going to be terrified of being impregnated.

9. Throughout my teens I’ve struggled with my sexuality. In my early teens the “bisexual fad” was at its zenith, and when I came out to my friends as bisexual they all said they were too! It was kind of nice having that support and being able to talk about girls in front of them, but pretty soon I realized they didn’t like girls the way I did. When, later on, I thought of myself as a lesbian I knew they would never support that, and they are all heterosexual-identified now.

10. For three or four years I thought of myself as a lesbian. I even came out to my parents when I was 17. Since I moved away from home and met more people, I no longer identify as gay, because I quite clearly check out and have crushes on men, too. I now identify as queer. I am attracted more on an individual basis, so I think it’s silly to be more specific.

11. I find all genders and gender expressions appealing, but I find expressions of female masculinity really, really hot.

12. I view my gender identity as femme, but that’s only been a recent thing. As with my sexuality I’ve struggled with my gender, and many times actively deluded myself into thinking I enjoyed being butch, or that I was an FTM transsexual or genderqueer. It makes me cringe now, and I cannot comprehend what thought processes led me down those paths that were so wrong for me. I think, shamefully, that I thought these identities were cool or more desirable. Ick.

13. I’ve masturbated since I was thirteen. This was 100% due to being exposed to erotic fan fiction and hentai from the forums I used to spend a lot of time on.

14. I masturbate the same way now as I did back then, on my back, slightly propped up, knees bent, one finger on clit, very reliant on fantasy to get me off. I masturbate anywhere from once a week to multiple times a day, and my sex drive has tapered off slightly over the years. I come every single time I masturbate, except for when I run out of time and have to break off early, or very very occasionally when I let the build up take too long and become either de-sensitized or over sensitive and can’t continue. I would like to mix up my masturbation routine a little but nothing else seems to work. I want to get a vibrator when I have the money and see what that does for me.

15. It takes me a long time to climax, probably average around 30 minutes but often 40 minutes+, and my orgasms are very intense because of this. I can rush it if I try but it’s not as satisfying. I’m worried that any potential sexual partners will find this annoying and a turn off.

16. My hottest fantasies are usually male/male or a male/female/male scenario. I really like watching gay porn, but lesbian porn doesn’t do much for me. I also prefer to think about people masturbating each other/jerking themselves off/oral sex than actual sex. Something about that voyeurism and intensity of watching someone come from another’s hand or mouth is really erotic.

17. I have this extremely weird thing that I feel reluctant sharing, where I get convinced that I’m a pedophile. It crops up when I’m fantasizing and stops me from thinking sexual thoughts, like: “What if this fantasy about watching a guy jerk off is really a subconscious pseudo-Freudian expression of being a pedophile? Stop wanking right now you awful, disgusting pedophile!” I mean, I KNOW I am not a pedophile and would never, ever do anything to hurt a child, so why does this happen? When I tell myself to stop being ridiculous, this part of me says “ah, you’re just being defensive because you’re scared it’s true!” It’s got to the stage where I am actually scared it’s true, even though my stance on child porn etc. is with the rest of the world: that it’s appalling and horrific and while I don’t really believe in good and evil that it’s the closest thing to pure evil a person can do. I reckon what it really is is my latent sexual guilt manifesting itself in a really cruel way. I do this a lot in other areas of my life, suppress negative feelings so that they bubble up somewhere else. I don’t want to believe I have sexual guilt, but that’s the only explanation.

18. Relatedly, I often stop myself mid-fantasy to panic about whether the fantasy is like totally Oedipal and that I secretly want to bang my dad or something. Freud has got a lot to answer for for making people unduly paranoid about their sexuality!

19. My greatest desire at this moment is to meet a beautiful, sophisticated person a few years older than me and to be swept up in a life-changing love affair with them, with lots of tender, passionate, deeply intimate sex. I am starved of intimacy and I want it more than sex itself. I never want to be with someone who is lukewarm in their affection for me and/or is inconsiderate and boorish in bed.

20. I have great trouble thinking of myself as a sexual being, despite all of the wanking I do and porn I watch/read. In fact I find it absolutely impossible to believe that anyone could find me attractive and/or want to fuck me. In my mind I feel like people view me as sort of an asexual child-woman who is not even relevant on the sexual radar. I try and comfort myself by looking at couples where both people seem completely repulsive to me but who obviously still found someone to love them. It doesn’t work often. I think deep down I expect to be alone for ever. I reckon the way my ex-girlfriend dumped me has a lot to do with the way I see myself; how can I not interpret it as that I was so unattractive that I turned her straight?

21. Despite this I am not willing to lower my standards in order to assuage my loneliness or to feel a sense of self-worth. When I have sex it will be because I deeply desire to make love with that particular person, not because I am lonely and horny and feel like I should have got laid already by this point.

22. I think it will be kind of amusing when (if?) I do have sex, as I can climax completely silently and can do so without changing my breathing pattern or moving my body at all, except for my hand obviously. This is due to years of living in a small house with a nosy family and sleeping in a room with extremely thin walls right next to my parents’ room. Ninja orgasm! Since I moved out, I’ve got better at relaxing and really feeling my arousal more, and I think that’s helping with the sexual guilt thing.

23. I’ve just remembered one reason for the said sexual guilt: when I was a young teen I was über-horny and used to look up hardcore yaoi and erotic fan fic all the time, and being young and naive I didn’t know to delete the browsing history on the family computer that I was using. Foolish me! My dad used to drop hints that he knew I looked at ‘funny’ (as in weird not humorous funny) stuff online and it was deeply deeply mortifying. So that might have quite a lot to do with it. I still don’t know if my parents know I masturbate and neither do I want to. I’ve never talked about it with anyone else either. My rather earthier twin sister has bought it up a few times but I find it so humiliating I’d rather not discuss it; I think of myself as quite open minded but obviously I still have some issues with being sexually open. I guess that might be part of the reason why I haven’t yet had a meaningful relationship.

24. I’m very envious of my sister who has had three serious boyfriends, lives with her current one and is totally open about the fact that they have a great sex life. I feel like I should have that too, seeing as we’re the same age.

25. The hottest/guiltiest/most empowering moment of my life so far was getting drunk at a lesbian club night and making out with a random 29-year-old woman while the FtM guy I was in mutual crush with at the time looked on (I hope) jealously. And then said woman texting me half the night to see if I wanted to go home with her. I didn’t, but I could have, and that felt great.

Among the bayonet-like minarets of ancient Istanbul, an East wind is blowing. It will chill us all... says The Mail On Sunday columnist in the week David Cameron calls for Turkey to join the EU
Down a glum, dark back alley in Istanbul, I found a sinister sight. In a workshop two stern and bearded men were bent over sheets and patches of very black cloth, their sewing-machines whirring urgently.

I was plainly unwelcome and they objected to the very idea of being photographed. I quickly saw why. They were making dark robes and masks for women to wear. They looked to me as if they longed for the day when every woman in sight was clad in their workmanship.


They knew the women would wear them, because one day, not far off, they would have to. These robes would be, literally, a 'must-have' for the women of Turkey.

Those who think of Turkey as a relaxed holiday destination, or as a Westernised Nato member more or less 'on our side' need to revise their view.

And that very much includes our Prime Minister, David Cameron, who last week joined in the fashionable chorus urging Turkish membership of the European Union. Mr Cameron plainly hasn't been properly briefed.

Leave aside the fact that such a step would allow millions of Turks to live and work in Britain, and give us - as EU members - a common border with Syria and Iraq. Mr Cameron really ought to realise that the new Islamist Turkey he so ignorantly praises is much more interested in making friends with Iran than it is in joining the EU. And it is becoming less free and less democratic by the day.

I would say there is a strong chance that we will soon lose Turkey to the Islamic world, much as we lost Iran to the ayatollahs 30 years ago. And there is not much we can do about it - least of all the daft scheme to include this nation in the EU.
Panic-mongering? Well, perhaps. But I would rather monger a bit of panic now than ignore what I saw.

I will come in a moment to the bizarre alleged plot against the Turkish state, which has swept dozens of government opponents into prison in dawn raids.

But first let us take a stroll round the Istanbul district of Fatih. It is noon, and the rival calls to prayer of two mosques are wavering in the baking, humid air.


Not far away is a gigantic Palestinian flag draped over the side of a building. Nearly opposite, a group of pale, intense men in turbans loiter on a street corner whispering into their mobile phones. Where am I? The flag suggests Gaza. The whispering men bring to mind Peshawar or some other Taliban zone.

Or am I in Saudi Arabia? For round the corner comes a phalanx of veiled women, under the vigilant eyes of a bossy man in a prayer cap. There are several grades of these women. First there are the wholly shrouded, their downcast eyes glimpsed through a slot, imprisoned in shapelessness. Most disturbing for me - because I have been to Iran - are those in chadors exactly like those commanded by the ayatollahs in Tehran. There is something particularly harsh about the inverted triangle through which their pale and sombre faces peer.
With them come the women they call 'Tight-heads' - 'Sikmabash' in Turkish. These are a new feature of Istanbul since I was last here a few years ago, in evidence all over this enormous city.

They are mostly young and often attractive. But they have swathed their heads tightly in voluminous, brightly coloured scarves. Their lower limbs are covered by long dresses or trousers, and over this, in the oppressive heat, they wear thin raincoats. Such outfits are available in a successful chain of shops called Tekbir, which means 'God is great'.

Covering up the female sex is big business here now. The owner of an independent Islamic clothes shop complains to me that trade isn't as good as it used to be because he now faces so much competition. He notes that more and more of his clients are young women, rather than conservative rural grandmas


The Tight-heads are startlingly similar to their Iranian sisters a few hundred miles to the east, who wear a near-identical uniform. Like them, they look as if they are making a point. But there is one crucial difference. The point they are making is the opposite one. The Iranian women mock the headscarf as they wear it, pushed as far back as possible on the head, revealing as much bleached-blonde, teased hair as the piety police will allow.

Their message is: 'The law can make me wear this, but it cannot make me look as if I want to.' The young Turks, by contrast, are saying: 'This is how I want to look, even if the law says I cannot.' For the scarf is banned by law in many universities and in government offices, and they view this ban as a challenge they must defy.
There is no simpler way of making the point that, while Iran is a secular country with a Muslim government, Turkey is a Muslim country with a secular government.

Or so it was. Now Turkey is in the midst of a revolution. In a fashionable waterfront cafe looking across the Bosphorus towards Asia, I spotted two young women sharing milkshakes - one veiled, the other displaying her curly hair and attired in barely-there T-shirt and jeans. I asked them if they didn't find each other's garb awkward. No, they didn't. The swathed one explained that she had decided, from religious devotion, to wear a scarf aged 15. Now 19, she had to go to university in North Cyprus, because most mainland universities banned the veil.

Her companion said she thought it quite possible that, in a few years, she too would be covered from head to toe. My guess is that she will be - the growing numbers of covered women across the Middle East place pressure on others to do the same.

But these are just symptoms. A deeper change is under way. Deliberately unremarked by Western commentators for some years, Turkey has a fiercely Islamist Prime Minister, Recep Tayyip Erdogan. Even now, Barack Obama, like George W. Bush before him, still bleats about how Turkey should be allowed to join the EU. And establishment commentators, encouraged by liberal Turkish intellectuals, absurdly continue to insist that Erdogan is in some way 'moderate'.

How odd. Back in the Nineties, this supposed moderate was railing that: 'The Muslim world is waiting for Turkey to rise up. We will rise up! With Allah's permission, the rebellion will start.' Erdogan was even imprisoned for quoting a fervent Islamist poem that declared: 'The mosques are our barracks, the domes our helmets, the minarets our bayonets and the faithful our soldiers...'

Covering up the female sex is big business here now. Black robes will one day be a must-have for all Now he is Prime Minister, he has not stopped thinking this. He simply knows better than to blurt it out.

Fashionable liberals in the West prefer to worry about the sinister Deep State, or Derin Devlet, which they claim really governs Turkey through a combination of military power and thuggery. And they have a point, though not as much of one as they used to.

Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the dictatorial-founder of modern Turkey, was almost as ruthless as Stalin, using military and police power in the Twenties to sweep away the fez, the turban and the veil, impose Western script and emancipate women. His inheritors are the Turkish army, who have emerged from their barracks four times since the Second World War to stage a putsch, hang a few politicians and drive the mullahs back into their mosques. Even further out of sight, and based on a Cold War organisation designed to perform acts of resistance in the event of a Soviet takeover, are profoundly secret networks of government agents committed to safeguard Ataturk's secular order.

They have made some unsavoury allies. Their existence gives credence to the genuinely creepy Ergenekon trials, aimed at a misty and possibly non-existent secret network of conspirators. The plotters are supposed to have sought to foment a fifth military coup. Personally, I think it a swirling tub of fantasy. In a brilliant demolition job (Ergenekon: Between Fact And Fiction: Turkey's Ergenekon Investigation), Turkish expert Gareth Jenkins has gone through more than 4,000 pages of indictments. And he accepts some wrongdoing has been uncovered.

But he concludes: 'The majority of the accused...appear to be guilty of nothing more than holding strong secularist and ultranationalist views.'

As the case wears on, Turkey slips decisively towards the more alarming end of the Islamic spectrum. Sudan's sinister president, Omar Hassan al-Bashir, has been an honoured guest - despite being indicted by the International Criminal Court on charges of war crimes and crimes against humanity. Erdogan defended the visit by saying: 'It's not possible for a Muslim to commit genocide.'

Equally welcome has been the unlovely Iranian president, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, tainted by the repression of democratic protesters and by his simpering Holocaust denial. No wonder he is welcome. Iranian gas heats the homes in Turkey's eastern provinces.

And the real significance of the recent clashes off the Israeli coast was missed in the West. Gaza and its problems were not the point. Turkey's new Islamic ruling class was glad of the pretext to downgrade its alliance with Israel. This link, dating back to Cold War days, got in the way of Erdogan's plans to snuggle up to Syria, Israel's bitterest enemy.

Were Turkey only shifting her foreign policy from West to East, that would be startling enough. Remember Turkey is a long-standing Nato member with a huge American airbase on its territory. Thanks to its position, its religion, its military strength, its language and its former imperial rule over this region, it has a powerful influence in the Middle East and in the new oil and gas states of Central Asia. Remember, too, that Turkey's attitude will be crucial to the future of post-war Iraq, with which it has a border.

But things are changing, and growing darker, at home as well. And this is thanks to the Ergenekon affair. Foes of the Islamist government are arrested in surprise dawn raids. One of those scooped up in the arrest net was a 73-year-old woman, head of an educational charity, in the final stages of cancer. Many of the 200-odd accused have been held for years on vague charges. But their arrests fuel the government's claim that it is threatened by a vast alleged conspiracy to bring it down. This supposedly implicates everyone from army officers to journalists.

Above all, the charges are aimed at the army, the force that has kept the mullahs in check, and incidentally kept the women unveiled, in Turkey for the past 90 years.

This is a curious echo of warnings from European conservatives that a new continent called 'Eurabia' is taking shape around the shores of the Mediterranean, which will in the end mean the Islamisation of northern EuropeThe supposed plot has now become so enormous that a special courthouse has been built in the suburbs of Istanbul to handle the hearings.

Ilter Turan, Professor of Political Science at Bilgi University, Istanbul, says: 'Erdogan has authoritarian proclivities. He will take journalists to court if he does not like what they write about him. He scolds them for writing critical things. He asks editors, "Why don't you come and tell us about the problem in private before printing it?" He's a potential autocrat who likes to engage in acts of personal generosity, like an old-fashioned monarch.'

But such personal government cuts in more than one direction. If Erdogan disagrees with members of the public he can treat them harshly too. Prof Turin says: 'A farmer came to him about some grievance and said, "My mother is weeping." Erdogan replied, "Take your mother and get out of here!" '

Under Turkey's proportional representation voting system, Erdogan can - and does - choose all his candidates. Critics and opponents can be easily got rid of. His power is about to increase if he wins a planned constitutional referendum set for September 12. If voters want increased 'human rights' they will also have to increase Erdogan's power to appoint judges and other key officials.

Not everyone agrees with the professor. On the far, Asian side of the Bosphorus, I get a different point of view from Ahmet Altan, a columnist and breaker of stories on the dissident newspaper Taraf (the name translates roughly as Partisan). I have to pass through elaborate security to find his paper's office. Altan is without doubt a brave journalist, who has got into trouble by challenging the orthodoxy of oldfashioned nationalism.

And he believes there is a profound, reactionary plot against Turkish democracy, and that the Deep State is out of control.

'Ergenekon is a most serious conspiracy,' he says. 'Their objective is chaos, to keep the Kurdish war going, to topple the government and keep the way open for a coup d'etat, to keep the army in politics and to keep the civilian government weak.'

He is also icily critical of European snobbery towards his country, saying: 'Europeans are mistaken about Turkey. They tried to keep Turkey always at the door, but did not let Turkey in.'

But, in a blast of worrying prophecy, he mocks the weakness of modern Europe, compared with China and America, and predicts that one day Europe will need the Middle East. This is a curious echo of warnings from European conservatives that a new continent called 'Eurabia' is taking shape around the shores of the Mediterranean, which will in the end mean the Islamisation of northern Europe.

He says nobody can really understand-Turkey until he has seen the new Anatolia, the bustling economic miracle, based on a new Islamic middle class, which is the powerbase of Erdogan's AK (Justice and Development) Party. And he warns me against Westernised Istanbul intellectuals who, he says, will mislead me with scare stories.

Perhaps so. One such intellectual is so nervous about Erdogan's thin skin that he asks me not to name him. Some of his allegations against the government - of corruption and Judophobia - are so alarming that I can only hint at them here.

And he flatly contradicts Ahmet Altan about Ergenekon, saying: 'All the government is trying to do is to humiliate and intimidate the army, and make sure it is powerless to interfere in politics in future. This coup attempt is supposed to have been hatched years ago, and never took place - because it had no support in the army. Among all these dozens of people in the dock there is not one who has the power or the prestige to lead a putsch. They're just nonentities. The documents in the case come from nowhere. '

Even more emphatic is an impressive retired general, Haldun Solmazturk, a quiet professional who certainly can't be dismissed as a Westernised intellectual. He told me: 'Ergenekon is a tool to intimidate democratic opponents. I cannot call Erdogan a democratic leader. He has no interest at all in progressive Turkish democracy.

'They have shown no interest in finding a middle way. Ergenekon is a huge pot into which they throw anybody associated with any kind of opposition - the military, the universities, the media. There are people still in prison after three years, with no convictions. Many friends of mine have been arrested. I have no doubt that the majority of the suspects didn't commit any crime.'

Wasn't the general afraid? No. 'They can't intimidate everybody. I am not afraid of them. That is exactly what they want.'

But he is contemptuous of Western politicians who fail to see the direction Turkey is taking. 'I, and many like me, are angry with those in the United States and Europe who have turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to attacks on democracy here.'

Nobody is sure what will happen next. The constitutional referendum next month will test Erdogan's strength. A general election is likely to follow. The secular opposition, useless for years, has just been reinvigorated by a timely sex scandal.

Deniz Baykal, its leader, has been overthrown after a video emerged of him apparently in bed with his mistress. He has now been replaced by a new more competent leader, Kemal Kilicdaroglu - who is a famous foe of corruption. Opponents of the Islamist takeover see him as their last best hope.

But this has probably come too late. Erdogan remains popular with the new middle class, Muslim, prosperous and numerous, happy to be Middle Eastern.

We in Western Europe have long assumed that the world that was created in 1945 would last for ever. But we have not paid enough attention to the rising new nations to our East, or to the new powers, fat with oil and gas, heedless of the old laws of liberty, which are gathering strength as America weakens.

Now we may have to pay attention. Among the bayonet-like minarets and helmet-like domes of ancient Istanbul an East wind is blowing, which I think will chill us all.

The supreme function of statesmanship is to provide against preventable evils. In seeking to do so, it encounters obstacles which are deeply rooted in human nature. One is that by the very order of things such evils are not demonstrable until they have occurred: At each stage in their onset there is room for doubt and for dispute whether they be real or imaginary. By the same token, they attract little attention in comparison with current troubles, which are both indisputable and pressing: whence the besetting temptation of all politics to concern itself with the immediate present at the expense of the future.

Above all, people are disposed to mistake predicting troubles for causing troubles and even for desiring troubles: 'if only', they love to think, 'if only people wouldn't talk about it, it probably wouldn't happen'. Perhaps this habit goes back to the primitive belief that the word and the thing, the name and the object, are identical. At all events, the discussion of future grave but, with effort now, avoidable evils is the most unpopular and at the same time the most necessary occupation for the politician. Those who knowingly shirk it, deserve, and not infrequently receive, the curses of those who come after.

A week or two ago I fell into conversation with a constituent, a middle-aged, quite ordinary working man employed in one of our nationalized industries. After a sentence or two about the weather, he suddenly said: 'If I had the money to go, I wouldn't stay in this country.' I made some deprecatory reply, to the effect that even this Government wouldn't last for ever; but he took no notice, and continued: 'I have three children, all of them have been through grammar school and two of them married now, with family. I shan't be satisfied till I have seen them settled overseas. In this country in fifteen or twenty years' time the black man will have the whip hand over the white man.'

I can already hear the chorus of execration. How dare I say such a horrible thing? How dare I stir up trouble and inflame feelings by repeating such a conversation? The answer is that I do not have the right not to do so. Here is a decent, ordinary fellow Englishman, who in broad daylight in my own town says to me, his Member of Parliament, that this country will not be worth living in for his children. I simply do not have the right to shrug my shoulders and think about something else. What he is saying, thousands and hundreds of thousands are saying and thinking - not throughout Great Britain, perhaps, but in the areas that are already undergoing the total transformation to which there is no parallel in a thousand years of English history.

In fifteen or twenty years, on present trends, there will be in this country 3 1/2 million Commonwealth immigrants and their descendants. That is not my figure. That is the official figure given to Parliament by the spokesman of the Registrar General's office. There is no comparable official figure for the year 2000, but it must be in the region of 5-7 million, approximately one-tenth of the whole population, and approaching that of Greater London. Of course, it will not be evenly distributed from Margate to Aberystwyth and from Penzance to Aberdeen. Whole areas, towns and parts of towns across England will be occupied by different sections of the immigrant and immigrant-descended population.

As time goes on, the proportion of this total who are immigrant descendants, those born in England, who arrived here by exactly the same route as the rest of us, will rapidly increase. Already by 1985 the native-born would constitute the majority. It is this fact above all which creates the extreme urgency of action now, of just that kind of action which is hardest for politicians to take, action where the difficulties lie in the present but the evils to be prevented or minimized lie several parliaments ahead.

The natural and rational first question with a nation confronted by such a prospect is to ask: 'How can its dimensions be reduced?' Granted it be not wholly preventable, can it be limited, bearing in mind that numbers are of the essence: the significance and consequences of an alien element introduced into a country or population are profoundly different according to whether that element is 1 per cent or 10 per cent. The answers to the simple and rational question are equally simple and rational: by stopping or virtually stopping, further inflow, and by promoting the maximum outflow. Both answers are part of the official policy of the Conservative Party.

It almost passes belief that at this moment twenty or thirty additional immigrant children are arriving from overseas in Wolverhampton alone every week - and that means fifteen or twenty additional families of a decade or two hence. Those whom the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad. We must be mad, literally mad, as a nation to be permitting the annual inflow of some 50,000 dependants, who are for the most part the material of the future growth of the immigrant-descended population. It is like watching a nation busily engaged in heaping up its own funeral pyre. So insane are we that we actually permit unmarried persons to immigrate for the purpose of founding a family with spouses and fiancées whom they have never seen.

Let no one suppose that the flow of dependants will automatically tail off. On the contrary, even at the present admission rate of only 5,000 a year by voucher, there is sufficient for a further 325,000 dependants per annum ad infinitum, without taking into account the huge reservoir of existing relations in this country - and I am making no allowance at all for fraudulent entry. In these circumstances nothing will suffice but that the total inflow for settlement should be reduced at once to negligible proportions, and that the necessary legislative and administrative measures be taken without delay. I stress the words 'for settlement'.

This has nothing to do with the entry of Commonwealth citizens, any more than of aliens, into this country, for the purposes of study or of improving their qualifications, like (for instance) the Commonwealth doctors who, to the advantage of their own countries, have enabled our hospital service to be expanded faster than would otherwise have been possible. These are not, and never have been, immigrants.

I turn to re-emigration. If all immigration ended tomorrow, the rate of growth of the immigrant and immigrant-descended population would be substantially reduced, but the prospective size of this element in the population would still leave the basic character of the national danger unaffected. This can only be tackled while a considerable proportion of the total still comprises persons who entered this country during the last ten years or so. Hence the urgency of implementing now the second element of the Conservative Party's policy: the encouragement of re-emigration.

Nobody can make an estimate of the numbers which, with generous grants and assistance, would choose either to return to their countries of origin or to go to other countries anxious to receive the manpower and the skills they represent. Nobody knows, because no such policy has yet been attempted. I can only say that, even at present, immigrants in my own constituency from time to time come to me, asking if I can find them assistance to return home. If such a policy were adopted and pursued with the determination which the gravity of the alternative justifies, the resultant outflow could appreciably alter the prospects for the future.

It can be no part of any policy that existing family should be kept divided; but there are two directions in which families can be reunited, and if our former and present immigration laws have brought about the division of families, albeit voluntary or semi-voluntarily, we ought to be prepared to arrange for them to be reunited in their countries of origin. In short, suspension of immigration and encouragement of re-emigration hang together, logically and humanly, as two aspects of the same approach.

The third element of the Conservative Party's policy is that all who are in this country as citizens should be equal before the law and that there shall be no discrimination or difference made between them by public authority. As Mr. Heath has put it, we will have no 'first-class citizens' and 'second-class citizens'. This does not mean that the immigrant and his descendants should be elevated into a privileged or special class or that the citizen should be denied his right to discriminate in the management of his own affairs between one fellow citizen and another or that he should be subjected to inquisition as to his reasons and motives for behaving in one lawful manner rather than another.

There could be no grosser misconception of the realities than is entertained by those who vociferously demand legislation as they call it 'against discrimination', whether they be leader-writers of the same kidney and sometimes on the same newspapers which year after year in the 1930s tried to blind this country to the rising peril which confronted it, or archbishops who live in palaces, faring delicately with the bedclothes pulled right over their heads. They have got it exactly and diametrically wrong. The discrimination and the deprivation, the sense of alarm and resentment, lies not with the immigrant population but with those among whom they have come and are still coming. This is why to enact legislation of the kind before Parliament at this moment is to risk throwing a match on to the gunpowder. The kindest thing that can be said about those who propose and support it is they know not what they do.

Nothing is more misleading than comparison between the Commonwealth immigrant in Britain and the American Negro. The Negro population of the United states, which was already in existence before the United States became a nation, started literally as slaves and were later given the franchise and other rights of citizenship, to the exercise of which they have only gradually and still incompletely come. The Commonwealth immigrant came to Britain as a full citizen, to a country which knows no discrimination between one citizen and another, and he entered instantly into the possession of the rights of every citizen, from the vote to free treatment under the National Health Service. Whatever drawbacks attended the immigrants - and they were drawbacks which did not, and do not, make admission into Britain by hook or by crook appear less than desirable - arose not from the law or from public policy or from administration but from those personal circumstances and accidents which cause, and always will cause, the fortunes and experience of one man to be different for another's.

But while to the immigrant entry to this country was admission to privileges and opportunities eagerly sought, the impact upon the existing population was very different. For reasons which they could not comprehend, and in pursuance of a decision by default, on which they were never consulted, they found themselves made strangers in their own country. They found their wives unable to obtain hospital beds in childbirth, their children unable to obtain school places, their homes and neighbourhoods changed beyond recognition, their plans and prospects for the future defeated; at work they found that employers hesitated to apply to the immigrant worker the standards of discipline and competence required of the native-born worker; they began to hear, as time went by, more and more voices which told them that they were now the unwanted. On top of this, they now learn that a one-way privilege is to be established by Act of Parliament: a law, which cannot, and is not intended, to operate to protect them or redress their grievances, is to be enacted to give the stranger, the disgruntled and the agent provocateur the power to pillory them for their private actions.

In the hundreds upon hundreds of letters I received when I last spoke on this subject two or three months ago, there was one striking feature which was largely new and which I find ominous. All Members of Parliament are used to the typical anonymous correspondent; but what surprised and alarmed me was the high proportion of ordinary, decent, sensible people, writing a rational and often well-educated letter, who believed that they had to omit their address because it was dangerous to have committed themselves to paper to a Member of Parliament agreeing with the views I had expressed, and that they would risk either penalties or reprisals if they were known to have done so. The sense of being a persecuted minority which is growing among ordinary English people in the areas of the country which are affected is something that those without direct experience can hardly imagine. I am going to allow just one of those hundreds of people to speak for me. She did give her name and address, which I have detached from the letter which I am about to read. She was writing from Northumberland about something which is happening at this moment in my own constituency:

Eight years ago in a respectable street in Wolverhampton a house was sold to a Negro. Now only one white (a woman old-age pensioner) lives there. This is her story. She lost her husband and both her sons in the war. So she turned her seven-roomed house, her only asset, into a boarding house. She worked hard and did well, paid off her mortgage and began to put something by for her old age. Then the immigrants moved in. With growing fear, she saw one house after another taken over. The quiet streets became a place of noise and confusion.

Regretfully, her white tenants moved out.

The day after the last one left, she was awakened at 7 a.m. by two Negroes who wanted to use her phone to contact their employer. When she refused, as she would have refused any stranger at such an hour, she was abused and feared she would have been attacked but for the chain on her door. Immigrant families have tried to rent rooms in her house, but she always refused. Her little store of money went, and after paying her rates, she had less than £2 per week. She went to apply for a rate reduction and was seen by a young girl, who on hearing she had a seven-roomed house, suggested she should let part of it. When she said the only people she could get were Negroes, the girl said 'racial prejudice won't get you anywhere in this country'. So she went home.

The telephone is her lifeline. Her family pay the bill, and help her out as best they can. Immigrants have offered to buy her house - at a price which the prospective landlord would be able to recover from his tenants in weeks, or at most in a few months. She is becoming afraid to go out.

Windows are broken. She finds excreta pushed through her letterbox. When she goes to the shops, she is followed by children, charming, wide-grinning piccaninnies. They cannot speak English, but one word they know. 'Racialist', they chant. When the new Race Relations Bill is passed, this woman is convinced she will go to prison. And is she so wrong? I begin to wonder.

The other dangerous delusion from which those who are wilfully or otherwise blind to realities suffer, is summed up in the word 'integration'. To be integrated into a population means to become for all practical purposes indistinguishable from its other members. Now, at all times, where there are marked physical differences, especially of colour, integration is difficult though, over a period, not impossible. There are among the Commonwealth immigrants have come to live here in the last fifteen years or so, many thousands whose wish and purpose is to be integrated and whose every thought and endeavour is bent in that direction. But to imagine that such a thing enters the heads of a great and growing majority of immigrants and their descendants is a ludicrous misconception, and a dangerous one to boot.

We are on the verge of here of a change. Hitherto it has been force of circumstance and of background which has rendered the very idea of integration inaccessible to the greater part of the immigrant population - that they never conceived or intended such a thing, and that their numbers and physical concentration meant the pressures towards integration which normally bear upon any small minority did not operate. Now we are seeing the growth of positive forces acting against integration, of vested interests in the preservation and sharpening of racial and religious differences, with a view to the exercise of action domination, first over fellow immigrants and then over the rest of the population. The cloud no bigger than a man's hand, that can so rapidly overcast the sky, has been visible recently in Wolverhampton and has shown signs of spreading quickly. The words I am about to use, verbatim as they appeared in the local press on 17 February, are not mine, but those of a Labour Member of Parliament who is a Minister in the present Government.

The Sikh communities' campaign to maintain customs inappropriate in Britain is much to be regretted. Working in Britain, particularly in the public services, they should be prepared to accept the terms and conditions of their employment. To claim special communal rights (or should one say rites?) leads to a dangerous fragmentation within society. This communalism is a canker: whether practised by one colour or another it is to be strongly condemned.

All credit to John Stonehouse for having had the insight to perceive that, and the courage to say it.

For these dangerous and divisive elements the legislation proposed in the Race Relations Bill is the very pabulum they need to flourish. Here is the means of showing that the immigrant communities can organize to consolidate their members, to agitate and campaign against their fellow citizens, and to overawe and dominate the rest with the legal weapons which the ignorant and the ill-informed have provided. As I look ahead, I am filled with foreboding.

Like the Roman, I seem to see 'the River Tiber foaming with much blood'. That tragic and intractable phenomenon which we watch with horror on the other side of the Atlantic but which there is interwoven with the history and existence of the States itself, is coming upon us here by our own volition and our own neglect. Indeed, it has all but come. In numerical terms, it will be of American proportions long before the end of the century.

Only resolute and urgent action will avert it even now. Whether there will be the public will to demand and obtain that action, I do not know. All I know is that to see, and not to speak, would be the great betrayal.

Pakistan's intelligence agency cancelled planned talks with security experts in the UK in protest at David Cameron's claim that elements within the country were promoting the export of terror, it has been reported.
The cancelled trip is the most concrete indication so far of damage done to Anglo-Pakistani relations by Mr Cameron's comments, which sparked outrage in Islamabad when he made them during this week's trip to India.
It comes days ahead of a three-day visit to the UK by Pakistani President Asif Ali Zardari, during which he is expected to stay with Mr Cameron at his country retreat Chequers.
The Times reported that senior officers from Pakistan's Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) had been due to come to London for talks on counter-terrorism co-operation with British security services. But an ISI spokesman told the paper: "The visit has been cancelled in reaction to the comments made by the British Prime Minister against Pakistan."

A BOLTON MP faces losing her driving licence after being caught using her mobile phone behind the wheel.

Yasmin Qureshi, aged 46, was stopped by officers in Wigan Road, Bolton, just days after being elected as MP for Bolton South East.

She did not attend Bolton Magistrates’ Court yesterday, but sent a guilty plea in her absence to driving while using a handheld mobile phone.

The incident happened on May 10 when Qureshi was driving a Vauxhall Astra.

The former barrister already has nine points on her driving licence and a further three points for this offence could result in a ban under the totting up procedure.

If a driver reaches 12 or more p e n a l t y points in any threeyear period they are usually banned, but magistrates have some discretion and can choose not to ban a motorist if they feel it will cause exceptional hardship.

The magistrates decided to adjourn the case to August 19 for sentencing, so Qureshi can attend and have the opportunity to make a plea to keep her licence.

Qureshi, of Morton Moss Court, Deane, became one of the first female Muslim MPs to be elected in May.

She said after the hearing that she has mitigation to put forward, but was not prepared say anything further until the matter is concluded.

She said: “I think it would be inappropriate to make any comment at this stage as the case is still ongoing and the court has not heard the full circumstances, but when the case is concluded I will make a full statement.”

She pleaded not guilty to a further charge of driving without insurance.

A teenage schoolgirl was arrested by police for racism after refusing to sit with a group of Asian students because some of them did not speak English.

Codie Stott's family claim she was forced to spend three-and-a-half hours in a police cell after she was reported by her teachers

The 14-year-old - who was released without charge - said it had been a simple matter of commonsense and accused the school and police of an over-the-top reaction.

The incident happened in the same local education authority where a ten-year-old boy was prosecuted earlier this year for calling a schoolfriend racist names in the playground, a move branded by a judge "political correctness gone mad."

Codie was attending a GCSE science class at Harrop Fold High School in Worsley, Greater Manchester, when the incident happened.

The teenager had not been in school the day before due to a hospital appointment and had missed the start of a project, so the teacher allocated her a group to sit with.

"She said I had to sit there with five Asian pupils," said Codie yesterday.

"Only one could speak English, so she had to tell that one what to do so she could explain in their language. Then she sat me with them and said 'Discuss'."

According to Codie, the five - four boys and a girl - then began talking in a language she didn't understand, thought to be Urdu, so she went to speak to the teacher.

"I said 'I'm not being funny, but can I change groups because I can't understand them?' But she started shouting and screaming, saying 'It's racist, you're going to get done by the police'."

Codie said she went outside to calm down where another teacher found her and, after speaking to her class teacher, put her in isolation for the rest of the day.

A complaint was made to a police officer based full-time at the school, and more than a week after the incident on September 26 she was taken to Swinton police station and placed under arrest.

"They told me to take my laces out of my shoes and remove my jewellery, and I had my fingerprints and photograph taken," said Codie. "It was awful."

After questioning on suspicion of committing a section five racial public order offence, her mother Nicola says she was placed in a bare cell for three-and-a-half hours then released without charge.

She only returned to lessons this week and has been put in a different science class.

Yesterday Miss Stott, 37, a cleaner, said: "Codie was not being racist." "The reaction from the school and police is totally over the top and I am furious my daughter had to go through this trauma when all she was saying was common sense. "

"She'd have been better off not saying anything and getting into trouble for not being able to do the work."

Miss Stott, who is separated from Codie and her 18-year-old brother Ashley's father, lives with her partner Keith Seanor, a 36-year-old cable layer, in Walkden.

School insiders acknowledge that at least three of the students Codie refused to sit with had recently arrived in this country and spoke little English.

But they say her comments afterwards raised further concerns, for example allegedly referring to the students as "blacks" - something she denied yesterday.

The school is now investigating exactly what happened before deciding what action - if any - to take against Codie.

Headteacher Dr Antony Edkins said: "An allegation of a serious nature was made concerning a racially motivated remark by one student towards a group of Asian students new to the school and new to the country."

"We aim to ensure a caring and tolerant attitude towards people and pupils of all ethnic backgrounds and will not stand for racism in any form."

Fewer than two per cent of pupils at Harrop Fold come from an ethnic minority.

It had the worst GCSE results in the entire Salford LEA last year with just 15 per cent of pupils achieving five good passes including English and maths, a third of the national average.

Since being placed in special measures, Ofsted inspectors say it has improved, not least as a result of Dr Edkins's "outstanding" leadership.

Salford was at the centre of a storm last April after a ten-year-old boy was hauled before a court for allegedly calling an 11-year-old mixed race pupil a 'Paki' and 'Bin Laden' in a playground argument at a primary school in Irlam.

When the case came before District Judge Jonathan Finestein he said the decision to prosecute showed "how stupid the whole system is getting".

But was himself fiercely attacked by teaching union leaders for "feeding a pernicious agenda" that aided the BNP.

The prosecution was eventually dropped.

Last night Robert Whelan, deputy director of the Civitas think-tank, said: "It's obviously common sense that pupils who don't speak English cause problems for other pupils and for teachers."

"I'm sure this sort of thing happens all the time, but it's a sad reflection on the school if they can't deal with it without involving the police."

"A lot of these arrests don't result in prosecutions - they aim is to frighten us into self-censorship until we watch everything we say."

Greater Manchester Police denied Codie had been kept in a cell but would not comment further.

1. I'm a 47 year old housewife who has been with my husband for 25 years. He is the one and only man I've had sex with.

2. He was my first everything. First hand job, blow job, first one ever to touch anything on me from breasts to below.

3. I do wonder sometimes: did I miss anything by never having sex with anyone else or did I miss anything just by never allowing any of my other relationships to go anywhere past the kissing stage?

4. I love all the romantic sides of a relationship, meaning I love kissing--not just kissing, making out for a very long time: the longer the better the hotter the wetter. I love the hand-holding, the touching, sex that is long and hard, sex that is quick and fast.

5. I have a very high sex drive. Hubby, on the other hand, has a lower one and is always kidding I'm the man in the relationship. I want it more than him during the week, during the day, and I will be the first one to complain and get cranky when I haven't gotten any.

6. I love blow jobs. Nothing gets me wetter and hornier than a blow job. Just the thought of getting that hard cock or even soft to start in my mouth is enough to get me going. I'm so grateful my husband loves them because for me that would be a deal-breaker. I love giving them and I'm not the type to expect anything in return. I don't even care if it leads to sex. I get so hot and turned on by doing them it's incredible. I don't mind if he finishes in my mouth or it goes onto sex and I have no problem with swallowing.

7. I love to do it when there is a chance we could get caught. I love being told to get down on my hands and knees and blow him and I like even better if it's in the laundry room with a house full of kids or company.

8. I also love hand jobs. I love to wake him up either in the middle of the night or early morning with either a nice hand job or blow job and I love to watch him finish.

9. I love to watch him jerk off. I love watching his hand going faster and seeing him stroke it, I love his face when he comes and love the feel of that hot come. He is okay with that, but I will admit it's taken him years to be comfortable with me watching him.

10. We are finally at the point in our relationship where, if I need sex and he isn't up to it, I'm okay with that because this man has the most talented fingers ever. I know that if he isn't up for sex he will get me off with his fingers or let me go down on him, and many times that will end up with him in the mood. What doesn't happen is he is not in the mood and I'm left stranded: he will use his wonderful fingers on me and get me off.

11. I love anal, and yes I am a woman. Yes, it can be messy, sometimes even with perfect timing and prep but if you're a long term couple who has gone through childbirth and periods, you can handle anal. With the right person who takes their time and you can trust, it is out of this world. Again, I will ask for this more than him; although he was the one that first wanted to do anal, he has always been afraid of hurting me.

12. We have recently gotten a taste of freedom with our children being college-age. One went to first year last year; our last one will go this year. Just that little bit of freedom is out of this world. No worrying about noise, no worrying about the kids knowing you're doing it because you have disappeared to your room in the middle of the day.

13. Yes, I am a screamer, who wouldn't be with the fingers of God! I scream, moan, and try to keep it all quiet for years because of the kids. I haven't always been quiet, as my children have pointed out in the past, but I do try my best. I will be very grateful they will both be in college in the fall. No having to be quiet.

14. I love to be spanked, I love to just be fucked--no foreplay, just throw me down on the bed and fuck me. I like it rough and hard, and right when I'm about to orgasm a smack on the ass will send me right over the edge.

15. Quickies are great, but so is spending a rainy or sunny day in bed. It takes all kinds of variety. Quick and short, hard and fast, long and slow. I want it all.

16. I love to have sex in the open. We have had sex in our pool during the day and night. I would love to have sex on my deck--I will be working on that in the fall when the kids are at college.

17. I love for him to jerk off all over my chest or ass.

18. If we end up getting frisky anywhere public, that would be my fault. We both got so hot and bothered in the parking lot of an outlet mall that we never ended up going in. I gave him a blow job from start to finish while he fingered me until I was soaking wet and not in any condition to walk.

20. If anyone had told me my sex life would have gotten better with being married 25 years I would have laughed, because seriously, that would mean I'm old now, right? It has definitely gotten better. We haven't slowed down--if anything we are fucking more, and there are definitely more hand and blow jobs going on.

21. I don't mind porn. I like to watch it with my husband, but it has to be a normal plot--no cheesy crappy porn--and I love it when it's forceful, and I love the finishing shots.

22. My breasts are very sensitive. I love to have them sucked and pulled. I hate having them bit, but I can come from just the right amount of sucking and pulling.

23. I just recently started squirting. It's quite odd.

24. My husband loves going down on me. I can take it or leave it. I'd rather be touched, but he enjoys it, and who am I to deprive him?

25. I hope to be having just as much sex, blow jobs and everything else, well into my senior years. I thought it would be harder to come up with 25 things, but it wasn't. I also thought it would be too vanilla and plain, but it is what is is.

Monday, via Craigslist, I met J (yet another one). He's a hot, slim Latin top, about 6'0" with legs that don't end, a bubble ass, juicy lips and a thick cut 7 incher. I think he was responding to my posting from the day before which was entitled LET ME SUCK IT. This guy is insatiable. (You'll see why in a minute.) I don't know how old he is. He looks like he's early 20s, but he could be as old as late 20s. We hooked up on his lunch break. He works in Chelsea; I live in East Boston: very easy commute. Because I sleep on an air mattress and my roomie was out of town, we played on D's bed. (Don't hate me.) We sixty-nined mostly. J just played with my penis at first and even sniffed it (I swear he did), but eventually took it into his mouth and showed off his competency. I was given a good challenge getting that thickness down my throat, but I can bring home the GOLD at the Cock Sucking Olympics. Naturally, my roomie came home mid action. He didn't trip out, though. Instead, he gave us his blessing and said, "carry on." Still, out of (belated) courtesy, we took it back to my twin air mattress. I was a little concerned. J is tall and, well, I've popped several air mattresses this past year. We took to blowing each other much more aggressively and he shot a juicy, delicious nutt in my mouth. I LOVE how he didn't even ask if he could cum in my mouth. He just gently pressed the back of my head and unloaded. My kinda guy. I didn't shoot. Before he left, I made introductions between him and my roommate. J, though very taken with the idea of a 3way, said he'd never experienced one. He wanted to come back in a few hours when he got off work. I had a client and rehearsal for VIOLET. So I knew I couldn't participate that day, but I did make sure they had each other's phone numbers. I found out a few days later that J did return and play around with my housemate.

The very next day, J came back for the 3way during his lunch break. I swallowed J's nutt, my roomie swallowed mine (didn't expect that) and my roomie shot his nutt into J's mouth. Most people aren't prepared for how much he shoots. J spit it out. After he left, he texted me to say that he enjoyed it. I don't know what got into me, but I got bold and responded that I'd like him to fuck me next time. He came back the same day to give me what I wanted. I slid a banana flavored condom (my favorite) on that thick dick. He put his hands behind his head and let me ride it as deep as I wanted. When a guy is that thick, I usually insist that I ride so I can control the depth. Stroking myself while rubbing up and down on that pole helped me get him in nice and deep. Both our eyes rolled into our heads. We came at the same time. There's always that moment during dismount when a bottom has to check and make sure that things are still hygienic, shall we say. Thankfully, the condom was still bright yellow. Oh thank God. He was in there pretty deep. He said he always shoots big, even when he busts multiple times a day. We went together into the bathroom, where he removed the condom, folded it in bathroom tissue and set it on the back of the tank. After he showered (and left if there), I went back into the bathroom and licked the runny liquid in the plastic. It's cool. There's more where that came from. I'll get multiple fucks from him this week for sure.

I almost came watching this.

The pic above is my dick.

Great new (to me) site. Hot video.

NOTE: It's weird that one of the people following this blog, SOSO, is using one of my pics as a primary image. Hmmm. I don't like it.

A bus driver accused by two students of banning them because of their Islamic dress has been cleared after CCTV showed he had actually barred them for their abusive behaviour.

An investigation by Metroline - which operates the No7 bus - found the driver, who could have faced the sack over the allegation, was justified in not allowing the women on his vehicle.

The 22-year-olds, Yasmin and Atoofa, from Slough, told the BBC that they had been refused access to the bus at Russell Square because of their dress. Yasmin was wearing a hijab and her face was uncovered while Atoofa was wearing a niqab, which covers the face.

But the Standard has learned that the students, who asked for their full names not to be revealed, were denied entry "due to abusive behaviour towards bus driver and other passengers".

On-board CCTV of the incident, on Monday last week, showed the women banging on the front doors and attempting to board the bus when it had come to the end of its run. They then get on through the rear doors and begin arguing with the driver. They get off and wait for the bus to start its journey back to Paddington - but another exchange follows, and the driver refuses to set off unless they disembark.

Metroline said: "We have now reviewed the CCTV and interviewed the bus driver. The circumstances of this incident are not as represented by the bus passengers."

1. I lost my virginity on April 20, 2002 to my first real boyfriend. I was 16. He was 18. He came over while the rest of my family was out of town at my sister's basketball tournament. We took a shower together and then had sex on my parents' bed. We spent the whole afternoon naked, watching cartoons, eating Chinese leftovers, being silly and having sex. I didn’t feel different or older or used or any of those things you may think you’re going to feel after having sex for the first time. It felt right, I felt normal and proud and natural. The day wasn’t the fairy-tale romantic first time experience that I feel so many girls build up in their heads, but it was perfect and I wouldn’t change a thing about it.

2. When I was 18 I was living in a crappy apartment with three boys, one of whom I was dating. He was a jerk, but I couldn’t see it. He would use me for sex; I was expected to work two jobs and be his personal assistant and maid. He would say horrible things about how I looked--keeping my esteem just low enough to let him do whatever he wanted, however he wanted. He had a manic schizophrenic breakdown and thought he was a disciple of God and that the FBI was after him. He cornered me with a knife one afternoon after five days without sleeping, and threatened to kill me. He told me ‘I am going to kill you and hide the body so no one will ever be able to find you. It's for your own good, trust me’. When I tried getting past him, he starting hitting me. Our roommate called the cops and he spent two weeks in the county psych ward. I had let this boy manipulate, use and abuse me in so many ways… after this relationship I saw myself and everyone else differently. I swore I would never allow myself to be a doormat for someone, to trust someone so blindly, to let anyone treat me as poorly and inhumanely as he did. For a long time after this experience I could only enjoy rough sex: being thrown around, held down, choked, hit, etc. The need for those kinds of sexual encounters has finally worn off, and while I still do genuinely enjoy those acts from time to time, I can now enjoy both fucking and making love thoroughly.

3. When I was 12 I started to use an old hairbrush handle to masturbate until I was old enough to buy a vibrator.

4. Until I was 18 I was only able to orgasm from internal, G-spot stimulation. That’s all I knew that felt good. No one told me I had a clitoris--let alone what the hell to do with it. And while I still deeply enjoy penetration (no pun intended,) I have come to enjoy clitoral stimulation more, although a good combo of my boyfriend fingering me and eating my pussy gives me the most intense, full-body orgasms that can last for minutes sometimes. When I masturbate, I rarely use my fingers or a toy that involves penetration. I get myself off from pure clit play, and usually lying on my stomach (the pressure feels nice).

5. With enough lube, anal sex is awesome!

6. One of my biggest fantasies is to make love to my boyfriend with a strap-on. I don’t want to fuck his brains out through his ass or anything; I just think it would be enjoyable and interesting to do a little role reversal. I would love to explore the more masculine, dominant side of my sexual energy--and strap-on play, for me, is the holy grail of sexual role reversal.

7. I’ve had several threesomes and one orgy. The threesomes were, for the most part, awesome fun and I look forward to exploring different combinations of sexual pairings in bed (I want so badly to be Eiffel towered). The orgy was a drunken mess and I do wish I had waited to experience that kind of energy in a more positive, sober mindset. I am determined to eventually have a healthy, positive group sex experience.

8. I think I give decent blow jobs. I don’t have much of a gag reflex and a fairly dexterous tongue. But hand jobs… I struggle with those. In all honesty, I’m not very good at touching a penis with my hands. Until recently, I hadn't given a real hand job since I was 17. One of my goals this year is to hone that talent so I at least feel confident and competent fondling a man and possibly even develop the ability to give a good hand job.

9. I have come to the realization that monogamy hasn’t been working and probably won’t work for me. I have cheated on all but one of my boyfriends, and had a full-blown affair for months before things ended with my ‘main’ partner. None of them ever found out about my infidelity, which is better, I suppose. I’ve never wanted to use or hurt anyone, but I find myself in monogamous relationships and I wind up feeling limited, trapped and stifled. And then I start to feel resentful and bitter towards the men I am with. Those are all feelings I don’t want to feel towards anyone, let alone the people I love. I am currently in a polyamorous relationship and I have never felt more confident, secure and trustworthy in a relationship before. I have found a sense of calm and balance in the fact that we don’t NEED each other and we don’t need to BE anything for each other, our relationship is open to breathe and move and evolve. I am so very excited to see where it all ends up and how much I can learn and grow both as an individual and as a partner.

10. I spent three years on-and-off with a man who would almost always tell me ‘no’ when I tried to initiate sex. I can count on one hand the number of times we had sex in the last year we were together. When we did have sex there was no kissing, no foreplay, no emotion- he had a large penis and had no idea what to do with it and didn’t care to learn or listen to what I wanted. Sex with him was mostly awkward and painful, and I am just starting to understand the emotional walls that aspect of our relationship caused me to build.

11. My parents didn’t really talk to me about sex. I mean, they told me about the mechanics of it and the ‘dangers’ of it, but they didn’t take the time to discuss all the possibilities and joy sex can bring. My complete open-mindedness and non-judgmental mindset comes from reading a lot of books and having the most amazing, supportive friends.

12. One of my favorite things to do is to go onto Chatroulette with my boyfriend and put on shows for people. We don’t do it very often… but when we do, we do it right! It satisfies my exhibitionist and voyeuristic tendencies. It’s not an everyday activity; it’s a nice little kink of a treat from time to time.

13. I don’t watch porn too often, unless I’m in a bit of a rush (like I have to head to work). When I do watch porn, the girl has to have dark hair and the guy has to have a big dick. If I do watch porn, as soon as I come I find whatever I am watching to be repulsive and the people to be pathetic and ugly. I just feel that porn glorifies the wrong aspects of sex; it makes me feel cheap. I feel that my imagination or memories are so much richer and more enjoyable.

14. Spank me! Light taps in the kitchen while I’m doing dishes, full-blown bare-ass beat downs while we’re playing around in bed, give me a surprise slap while I’m blow drying my hair. But don’t do it all the time, keep it spontaneous and sparse. Spanking, especially the little slaps during regular daytime activities, makes me feel desirable, flirtatious and submissive.

15. I’ve stopped shaving my pubic hair. I had been shaving since I started to grow hair, and I really thought I was going to feel dirty, ugly and uncomfortable with hair down there. But I LOVE it! I keep it trimmed, it’s not a crazy overgrown bush you could get lost in--but it is soft and furry and I have never felt more comfortable naked in my entire life. I feel like a woman, I feel normal and confident with my little bush.

16. Sometimes my boyfriend grows out his beard--and he grows out the sexiest, fullest most lovely beard I have ever seen. And when he has a full beard grown out and then he eats out my pussy, it’s just about my favorite. I love making out with him afterwards and his beard is soaking wet and I can taste myself all over, I can suck my own juices out of his beard… it makes my knees weak.

17. I have had sex with three different girls, one of them on multiple occasions. I think women are beautiful… but I don’t think I am sexually attracted to women. I wouldn’t identify as ‘bi-sexual’ but more as ‘try-sexual’, I’ll try anything about three times. And in the right situation, women can be fun to play with and flirt with, but I’m not sure if I could have a romantic, on-going relationship with one.

18. Intimacy is the best part of any relationship, romantic or friendly. Don’t get me wrong, I totally get off on the ‘new relationship energy’, that time when a person is all new and shiny and everything is exciting and you can’t get enough of each other. But butterflies die and blind passion burns out eventually, and then you’re left with all the nuts and bolts of a person. I love being able to go to the bathroom with the door open, not having to shave my legs every time I see them, I like seeing all their odd little habits and rituals. I love the work, the tears, the love and patience that go into building a real, solid relationship. I love the joy and comfort and trust that comes with time. Give me a ‘boring’ night at home with my lovers and friends and I am the happiest girl in the world.

19. It makes me sad to hear girls talk about sex like it’s a chore, or something they dread. My roommate has the worst self-confidence I have ever encountered, and she isn’t fat or particularly unattractive, but she is so deeply uncomfortable with herself, and it just breaks my heart and makes me terribly frustrated. I guess I do it sometimes too; we all have our hang-ups… those little things that make us feel self conscious or unsure of ourselves. But sex is something that should be enjoyed and celebrated. I don’t understand how some girls (or even men, I guess) feel the need to withhold sex from their significant others, people who don’t want to explore and experience and revel in the fact that we have these really awesome bodies that do some really awesome things. That is my ideal mindset and I strive to maintain that outlook, as long as the insecurity about my thighs doesn’t get in the way. ;-)

20. I’m not sure if this is sexuality, but then again, doesn't everything about us tie into sexuality? I love to stare at people, or at least watch them intently. At work sometimes I will catch the eye of a person who is just interesting-looking, they’re so beautiful in a completely unique and strange way. I’d love to be able to sit down and just look at them, soak in all their little physical quirks. The curiosity is what makes me excited.

21. I’m working on being able to recognize what I want and need- both physical and emotional- and be able to communicate that to both myself and my partner. It’s easier said then done, but I think I’ve been doing all right and making some real strides from where I started.

22. Sometimes my boyfriend and I wake up in the middle of the night having sex. Like full on, ‘bend me over and drill me’ kind of sex- and it’s soooo hot! I usually don’t wake up until I’m starting to come, but those orgasms are some of the strongest orgasms I have from vaginal intercourse.

23. I love kissing. I miss the days when a good make out session was the epitome of sexy fun time. It’s so simple and so fun and gets me going like nothing else. I completely enjoy and get off on all the other foreplay stuff, but I could be a happy girl with a good, solid make out session.

24. I am more comfortable being naked than I am being clothed; I’m always worried my jeans cut me off weird or that my shirt pulls too tight across my tummy. I don’t mind my extra squish when it’s not being confined by clothing.

25. I have no desire or ability to meet people in a bar setting, I feel like it’s all so superficial and such a waste of time. Plus, I’m not really the most approachable person. I don’t have the patience to entertain and encourage the gross, slobbering drunk guys, and their pickup lines and inane conversations are not flattering, but merely annoying. Bring some good, challenging conversation to the table and make me laugh and I’ll be putty in your hands. For me, sexual attraction is much more of a mental connection than a raw physical drive.

Dear Rachel Sext,

Can we talk? I’m confused by your commercial, it may be your constant screaming or your beige bath towel convienently covering your devil parts. Either way I’m confused.

It’s not really the sexting I’m confused about. We get it, sexting is bad. Sexting could ruin your professional life. Sexting could lead to millions poking fun at your misppaportionate boobies and/or penis.

I know this cause I’m the jackass at the party that hurls their cell-phone in the air everyone screaming, “Look at this guy’s penis…you know him…you know him!!!”

But hey, at least I delete the next day. I think my parents would find it quite odd if they stumbled upon my cell phone penis picture collection. Not that I have one… and not like my parents have any place to judge…gosh.

My real question is why are your teeth so sweaty? No seriously, your two front teeth are sweaty. I’ve never seen anything like that….ever.

Of course your hair would look like shit…you just had sex.

And of course your body would ooze weird incriments onto a bath towel….you just had sex.

But your teeth? ¿por qué? Rachel? ¿por qué?

Is that physicially possible? Or is this just MTV trying to work their used up “we can influence millions” magic once again?

Like come on, MTV can you just start playing music videos again? I’m so sick of this “above the influence” shit. Is that even MTV? I don’t care it’s bullshit anyways. And who could forget the STD’s are bad PSAs and especially “You should the have sex with the cast members of the Jersey Shore or hit Snooki in the face” PSA? I can’t, that’s who.

I’m sorry Rachel to be taking this out on you, but please go brush your teeth. You’re disgusting to look at, let alone have sex with.

And if it’s this bad on televsion…I don’t even want to know what the sext looked like.

I'm back in America now. World Tour 2010 is officially over and done. I'm hardly finished with touring this year. I have a new book coming out in September, Sex, Sin, and Zen: A Buddhist Exploration of Sex from Celibacy to Polyamory and Everything in Between, and one I edited and co-wrote with Nishijima Roshi, Fundamental Wisdom of the Middle Way: Nagarjuna's Mulamadhyamakakarika. So I'll have a lot of touring to do ahead of me once those come out.

Still, it's a weird feeling to be done with something that, before I started on it seemed overwhelmingly big. It reminds me of the words you see written on the hans -- wood boards pounded to call people to zazen -- at Soto Zen monasteries all over the world.

生死事大
無常迅速
光陰可惜
時不待人

Shou ji ji dai
Mu jou jin soku
Kou in oshimu beshi
Toki hitowo matazu

Great is the matter of Birth and death;
Life slips quickly by;
To waste time is a great shame;
Time waits for no one;

There are various other translations. At Tassajara they have a different English translation on each han.

It's astounding how quickly even the most amazing events of your life are over and gone. I had a great time seeing the world. I sat zazen in places I never even thought I'd visit. It's a truly incredible world. I'd have a hard time picking out any highlights because it was a trip filled with nothing but highlights. I kept a diary every day of the tour. So one of these days I'm sure there'll be a book about it.

One of my great problems in life is that I'm the kind of person who feels like he always has to be doing something. I don't relax easily. Zazen for me has been, in part, a way to relax and still not feel like I'm wasting time. Vacations are not fun for me because they feel like a waste of time. I want to always be making some kind of progress.

Of course, this is an illusion. But we all have our illusions. The funny thing about Zen practice is that it will show you that your illusions are illusions. And that is a very big deal. That is tremendously helpful. Most people never get that at all.

But zazen will not get rid of your illusions. It shows them for what they are. But it's up to you to do something about that.

What I'm gonna do about it is zazen. In just over a week I'll be at the Great Sky Zen Sesshin. Registration is closed, so you can't sign up anymore. But think of it this way. Gempo Roshi charges folks $50,000 for five days in his presence based on the idea that five days with an "Enlightened Master" will help you make years of progress in just a few days. Well there are five (5) Masters at Great Sky, all with the same Zen credentials as Genpo has, the same level of recognition as an "Enlightened Master." And you get seven, not five, days with ALL FIVE OF US for a twentieth of Genpo's price! Think of how much progress that will get you! What an incredible bargain!!! Someone ought to do the calculations to see how much money you save!

Anyway, after Great Sky I'm heading for Tassajara where I will spend a month or so as a work-practice student. So I'll be up at 4:30 AM and in bed at 8:30 for the next five or six weeks. Zazen every day. Meal chants at every meal. Assigned work schedules. Lots of restrictions and regulations. And I am doing all of this voluntarily when I could be doing pretty much anything else. I'm a writer for Christ's sake! We can do our work getting up at two in the afternoon and staying in pajamas all day! We can even do it dead drunk.

I got no boss. I got no time clock. I'm living the dream, baby! Flying around the world, hanging out with exotic and weird people, eating bizarre food, the whole ball of wax!

Yet I am choosing deliberately to put myself in a position that is very much like the nine-to-five work-a-day grind I spent so much time, effort and energy to finally escape from. Why would anyone do such a thing?

I think the reason so many human beings do the kind of routine drudgery we all complain so much about is because we like it. We like stability and routines. We don't want to live like we're on vacation 24/7. Most writers I know have to force themselves to follow weird artificial strategies in order to simulate what "normal" folks deal with all the time -- what I dealt with until a couple years ago. It's the only way most of us get anything done. This recent tour got me so out of my routines that I feel like I need something fairly drastic to get back on track.

What this means to you folks out there is that this blog will be going on hiatus for a while. You won't see many postings here between mid August and mid September. There's no Internet access at Hokyoji or Tassajara. Maybe I can find a way to phone in entries. I don't know. But more likely the blog will just go dark for a while.
I'm not going away yet. But that's a heads up to let you know what's in store.

Gotta run! See ya!

P.S. The photo this time was taken while driving in to Tassajara two years ago during the big fires there. It's completely unretouched and un-Photoshopped.

1. My first sexual experience was with a younger boy who lived across the road. I was 6, he was 5. I found the bicycle pump, put it down the front of my Punky Brewster knickers and asked him to pump. It felt great. I remember feeling a shiver come across my body as the air escaped the nozzle and gushed across my genitals. I returned the favor for him. I'm not sure the feeling was as exhilarating for him, but I recall looking at his penis in amazement. I made him do it again for me. This went on for sometime, until my dad caught found us in the garage many sessions later. I never saw the bicycle pump again. We've never spoken of this.

2. My parents' idea of teaching me, my brother and sister about sex and sexuality was to give us the books titled "Where did I come from?" and "What's happening to me?" I remember reading them cover to end numerous times. I enjoyed the pictures and always thought sex looked loving and natural. As it was all cartoons, it also didn't hold a sense of reality for me. I learned about masturbation from these books and set out to find this feeling which they mentioned was like the feeling of 'sneezing'... the orgasm. I was 10.

3. I used to sit between my bed and the wall, almost hiding, reading these books in the afternoon. I learned to explore my vagina. Touching it softly felt nice. It was smooth, prepubescent, but liking the touch of my own fingers. I'd discovered my clitoris, and gently stroking it gave me an afternoon of enjoyment, escape. I was addicted to this tingling feeling.

4. Ii am not sure when I reached my first orgasm through self pleasure. I can only presume it was around the age of twelve. By this time I was exploring harder, faster stimulation of the clitoris. As i would work my way up to orgasm my legs would straighten and my body stiffen until this feeling of release would rush over me. I remember not thinking of it as a sexual act, more just self-pleasure. Something completely between me, myself and I. I never spoke of these events with girlfriends, my brother or sister or my parents. It was just something i did.

5. At 13 I remember staying with my godmother for a few nights while my mum was in hospital having a breast lump removed. She asked me if I was menstruating yet. I was horrified that she would ask me such a personal question. I'd gotten the word masturbation and menstruation confused. I denied that I'd started 'menstruating' and wondered how she could know about my nightly activities. One hour later I realized my error, but didn't revoke my previous answer. I masturbated in her guest room that night, under a huge portrait of Jesus.

6. I can't remember my first passionate sensual kiss.

7. Though I knew of the vaginal canal, I didn't explore digital penetration until I was 16. I wanted to have sex, needed to have sex physically. I knew I was a sexual being, but I couldn't connect with any of the boys at school. At the time, I wanted my first time to be with someone i loved, an ideal fantasy of two people entangled in magic.

8. At 17 I found a copy of my brother's Forum magazine. I loved the saucy stories of sex in it and read it over and over in my single bed at night, masturbating frantically, and squirming in ecstasy, coming time and time again. My mother found the book next to my bed one day. I remember feeling slightly embarrassed. It was never spoken of. I am to this day a huge fan of erotica. Currently I converse with a gentleman in Sydney, filthy dirty emails back and forth. If we should ever cross paths, I doubt I'd be able to walk for weeks.

9. I lost my virginity at 18. It wasn't special, it wasn't with someone I loved, and I remember after the initial penetration I was mortified with what I was doing in my drunken state. I kicked him off and asked him to leave. I avoided him from then on.

10. My first long-term sexual partner was a man I fell love with at second year uni. I remember fucking all the time. Shower sex, bedroom sex, blow jobs in his car, pool sex. I was in heaven.... for a while, but never fulfilled. I wasn't sure what was missing. He gave me my first oral orgasm.

11. Sometimes I think I'd be happy if I had someone's mouth attached to my pussy all the time. It likes the adoration.

12. I have large vaginal lips. I used to get a little self-conscious of them. When i looked at pictures in magazines of other women's vaginas I wondered what was wrong with mine? Why didn't mine look like theirs? Now I love my cunt, my pussy, my pleasure canal, my den of seductiveness, my flower. When I become sexually aroused I watch these lips swell with anticipation and excitement. Their sensitivity increases... they are gorgeous.

13. My true sexual awakening happened when i was 27. I wasn't in love with anyone. I was free, energy driven and very sexual. I left Australia for South America... little did i know Latin men are very open sexually. Sexual energy filled every breath i took and for the first time in my life I felt alive. My friends felt harassed. I was at home.

14. I fucked in South America. I had filthy animalistic sex in the Amazon. I had my first experience of anal sex and it was hot, hard and heavy. My first time anally I had multiple orgasms, sweat dripping off both of us, the shanty wooden house on stilts rocking in rhythm with our thrusts and moans of delight. Now, I knew I'd been fucked. If only he could kiss, it would have been the complete experience. I had sex with this person 3 times. A Colombian, who had a snake in his trousers. I don't remember his real name. He liked holding my hand as we crossed the road. That was kind.

15. Whilst in the Amazon I fucked three different men in one day. I didn't feel like a whore... I felt liberated. I oozed sexual energy.

16. I've had five affairs with married men. I'm single, I wasn't looking for a relationship. It's their problem not mine. I make no promises.

17. This year I had a finishing job when I went for a massage. I was completely naked, and my masseuse was massaging my arse. I love my arse being massaged. As his fingers went between my thighs they skimmed my somewhat aroused lips. I thought to myself "no he didn't?", but then he did it again. I could feel his huge cock through his pants pressed up against the side of my body. It was exciting. I just arched my back and let out a simple "Hmmmmm".... and a more erotic form of massage started. I felt my sexual energy returning. I let the moment engulf me completely, surrendering to the rhythm, the touch and the sensuality. I orgasmed on his massage table as he fingered me. After I rolled over, I smiled and booked in for two days later. We fucked and i got a free massage. It was fun. It was electric. I will never see him again.

18. Most recently I met a man with an English accent, a poet. We drank vodka, spoke, laughed and then went to entangle. I was well aware of his thirst for BDSM prior to meeting. Though never before experienced in this area, I was willing to accommodate. I was turned on by the thought of him only being able to touch me with permission. I punished his balls and cock first, with my hand tugging and squishing his balls. I liked when I caused this pain how his mouth would curl at the corners; a wince was let out but then it was followed by an unauthorized erection. I instinctively reached for his bag of tools, sat on his face and proceeded to whip the end of his cock with a riding crop. I hit his balls with a leather paddle. I was in awe of him enjoying this... I owned his balls for a moment. We didn't have intercourse. I would have liked to have filled him up with my golden nectar though. We won't meet again... it has left me wanting more.

19. Between Berlin and Paris I had sex in a train carriage with a stranger from Israel. We were alone in the carriage; it was night. After I left that carriage and returned to my allocated carriage on the train, I saw him wandering the halls looking for me. My top lip was bleeding where he had bitten it a little too hard in the moments of passion.

20. I've never cheated on a partner, but I walked in on my fiancé fucking a friend on his kitchen table when i was 23. I picked up my passport and a small backpack of clothes, and never returned. I hear many years later that after having a child together, she cheated on him. I've had trust issues ever since.

21. Though I've had many sexual experiences, the one I'm craving the most now is a relationship of complete intimacy and vulnerability. A relationship where we can explore all sexual avenues together, learning, growing and riding the wave as far as it takes us. However, I am fearful of this, and have continued in favor of random play, always keeping the man at arms length. Sad, but true.

22. I had the opportunity for my desire of love earlier this year. Entangled between the sheets, his kiss was soft and delicate, his fingers knowing of the female form, his skin soft and warm. A courtship that spanned a couple of years of knowing each other amounted to this moment. Our bodies melted together, I froze, hesitated for just a moment, and the moment was lost, as so too him from my life forever. I think of this beautiful man many times, wanting him to return to my life. Knowing that now I am willing and able to give him what he sought, but could not at the time. Sometimes you never know what you've got until it's gone. Perhaps we will cross paths again. That, I'd like.

23. I like to have sex with women. I find the idea of group sex somewhat possibly enjoyable. I like to watch, and I'd like to be watched. Multiple hands, mouths, bodies entangled in a warm mess... my mouth on the warm lips of a woman's, her juices flowing, her sweet earthy taste engulfing my taste buds as her soft thighs wrap around my head in sexual delirium. My lover watching, possibly worshiping and caressing my own arsehole with his tongue as I pleasure another. I'd also like to have a MMMF situation. Hmmm.... enticing.

24. I've masturbated twice while writing these 23 points.

25. I'm now 30 years old, single and loving life. I've welcomed my dirty 30's. Next, I'd like to try a swingers club. Life is short... live life, love lots, love yourself.