Talking Dirty.

I can get very turned on if my woman talks dirty to me. The filthier the better.

Recently I got the most absurdly large erection when she went on about scraping the dirty gunge off the back of the cooker.

On another occasion we were wrapped in each others arms and she raised the subject of cleaning the windows. Mind you, they were in a bit of a state, they were quite filthy. But the more she nagged the hotter I got.

To my mind, dirty talking is the best aphrodisiac there is.

But even so, at the ripe old age of 67 there are some other things that turn me on as much now as they did 50 years ago.

A pretty nubile young maid with heaving bosoms.

Pert nipples vying with each other to escape from a flimsy blouse.

Legs that appear to go on for ever and a day but eventually terminate at a small but perfectly petite behind (I'm having to cross my legs even as I type).

The smell of freshly washed shoulder length hair topped off with the waft of exotic perfume mingling with the aroma of a good malt whisky.

Absolutely normal things, really.


A sense of humour can be a good turn-on too.