Voyeurism - an invasion of privacy?

Dear Granny D

My wife and I, whom I shall refer to as ‘K’, were recently holidaying in France and, as one might expect from Brits abroad, ‘K’ whipped her nips out to catch some rays. Nothing wrong with that, you might think, but then, all of a sudden, some pervert Frenchy is out with his long lens and, before you know it, ‘K’ is making the front pages of foreign glossies, nips and all! I’m sorry, but I feel a red line has been crossed!

Despite taking out a court injunction to prevent the publication of further photographs, for me at least, the issues are more far-reaching; which brings me to the reason for my correspondence. I truly never thought it likely, but I feel decidedly jealous when I think about other men spuffing over photos of my wife hanging her diddies out to dry. Things like this never seemed to bother my Uncle Andrew, as he dated a porn star at one time, but I guess that I must be more sensitive that he is.

The question is, should I be getting so damn jealous, particularly as I know that the riff-raff who purchase these magazines, probably fishmongers and grape-pickers, can only perv at stills, whilst it’s me who bends the little lady over the four-poster every night and takes a riding crop to her bare bottom. When I dwell on it, I sometimes get so mad I even consider having plastic surgery to make myself more handsome for her; is that madness, or what?

Dear W

No, of course it’s not madness, but you must put such thoughts out of your mind and, whatever you do, do not confide in your Grandma, or plastic surgery will be a necessity rather than a choice. I seem to remember your mum crossing her once upon a time, and look what happened there.

Of course, had you have been working class, you would have qualified for some straightforward advice. I would have suggested that you confront your fears by registering on a cuckold site. It’s a form of voyeurism that is rapidly spreading amongst middle-aged groups, as it replaces the recreational drugs that kept them busy during the 60’s and 70’s and, as an acceptable statistic, it isn’t really that important if a few of them are lost to STDs.

With you and ‘K’, however, you must confine your nudity to the boudoir. As my dear old dad used to say, “Oliver Cromwell may well be on the throne,” (he’d pretty much lost it by then) “but one can always get a little cavalier in the bedroom.” So what if a handful of commoners do knock one out to photos of your missus, as long as you fulfill her needs, there’s no need to worry. By the way, I’ve often wondered, what exactly does happen when those of a 'certain breeding' don’t feel like rumpy pumpy? My dear mother once told me that you employ a manservant to slip on a latex glove and pleasure one with a little hand-relief, though I’m not sure I believe her. Do drop me a line and a pic if possible.

All the best
Granny D