Transgressions and forbidden places

Many years ago, I had a summer job as a porter in a 17th Century hotel in a bucolic English town. The routine followed a predictable pattern, with a lull every day after lunch. One such sleepy afternoon, a young couple appeared asking to see a room. I accompanied them to a suite with a four-poster bed and without thinking, returned to reception. Ten minutes later, the couple came down flush faced, said sheepishly “we’re not sure” and strolled out of the door. Needless to say, the bed was a mess. Is the height of transgression defying the strictures of stuffy respectability like the daring, risqué young couple, or is an absolute taboo the real turn-on? Friends once boasted about having had intercourse on a church altar, whilst a colleague swore he got it off on a plane, not improbable given the length of the flight. Is a mental association with an intrinsically sexy situation like a glamorous hotel (where one hopes to spend more than 10 minutes) enough, or are other ingredients required? What about unlikely places like one’s car in the underground parking at work, or even better a ride on a thundering beast? Alternatively, do furtive glances with a secret accomplice at a black tie event get your heart racing? What are your transgressions? A’ très bientôt. Georges V

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