Corrupting Mrs Jones

TMI Tuesday – Then and Now

This week’s TMI is a re-hash from quite a long time ago. Ten years!! As Hedone stated in this week’s post there are a few of us hangers on still posting there from time to time. My original blog and post are not open to the public but here are the questions.

OK just to make this a bit easier I have decided to choose a topic area otherwise this would be a whole lot of random stuff. Trolling through my tags I saw ‘swinging etiquette’ so here it is.

1. Tell us something with which you strongly agree or, greatly like.
The thing I love most about this lifestyle is the way it embraces the concept of “No is No”. There is the obvious safety part of this which is means I don’t have to do anything I am not comfortable with but there is also the part which takes a bit longer to get used to. That is the part where I don’t have to give a reason why I say no. I just have the right to say no and you don’t need any more information. This is a beautiful thing because it takes so much pressure out of refusing. The person refusing doesn’t have to justify themselves. The person being refused is saved the embarrasment of hearing a reason explained to them.

2. Tell us something with which you somewhat agree or somewhat like.
I would have to say I am a massive fan of the way it is cool to walk around naked or semi naked at swinger’s clubs and parties. I never really cared much for shoes or took much time with grooming before I started this game as discussed in my post Turning into a High Maintenance Chick. These days one of the attractions of going to a club is seeing what everyone is wearing and then watching them take it off!

3. Tell us something to which you are indifferent, or have no opinion.
Jake says I have an opinion on everything so this question is proving to be rather difficult for me.
So the thing I don’t have an opinion on is swinging versus religion. I will risk it all and put it out there that I am a practicing Catholic. How do I reconcile my religion with my lifestyle? I don’t. Religion, like sexuality, is a very personal thing. No one can tell you what belief system is right or wrong or what works best for you. I am not a Catholic because I went shopping for a church and picked that one. I was born into it. I could be all purist and find a church that matches my lifestyle choices better and that has more sensible leaders (refer to last week’s comments regarding Cardinal Pell). But then I would lose a whole lot of friends and a major part of my support network. So I do the ostrich thing and just don’t think about it too much.

4. Tell us something you somewhat dislike or disagree with.
I do have a bit of an issue with the expectation that women are going to be bisexual or at the very least interested in playing with other women. Generally I like women’s bodies and will happily explore another woman’s body while her husband is in the room. What I don’t like is women who play at being bisexual mainly for their partner’s viewing pleasure. While watching is often very much a part of group sex I do not like the idea of being part of a live porn show that is carefully staged.

5. Tell us something with which you strongly disagree or greatly dislike.
Something that I see at parties and clubs which really gets up my nose is the idea that if a group of people are playing in full view of others that it is OK to stand or sit so close to the action that you are almost touching it or that you do manage to ‘accidentally’ touch it. If you want to be part of the action then ask politely. If people choose to allow you to watch, this cannot be assumed to be an invitation to join in.

Bonus: What is an opinion held by others that makes you angry?
People who don’t respect the no means no rule and persist with asking. Or those who don’t just take no for an answer and keep hassling for a reason or a justification. Seriously. If you have asked me to play and I say no do you really want me to explain, possibly in front of your partner or other people you don’t know well,that the reason is because I find you unattractive or that you smell bad, or that your laugh drives me screaming up the wall.

So past Gemma was opinionated and used a lot more words than present Gemma it seems. I will have a go at the same questions without a theme this time

1. Tell us something with which you strongly agree, or greatly like.

Being fucked within an inch of my life is up there on the list of things I really like. The Fisherman commented that he felt I was holding back a little when we met recently. He was right. I am not sure why but not everyone gets Gemma full blast. You have to earn that shit.

2. Tell us something with which you somewhat agree, or somewhat like.

Hanging with people. For the most part. Until I have had enough.

3. Tell us something to which you are indifferent, or have no opinion.

Politics. We are currently at the pointy end of a federal election campaign. Personally the choices are bad and bad. Not sure how I will vote but I can’t wait until it is over.

4. Tell us something with which you somewhat dislike or disagree with.

Ants! I got up this morning to a kitchen bench covered in ants because I left a packet of dried apricots there! I know it is very wet outside and that makes it hard for them but I don’t like the flavour of ant in my food!

5. Tell us something with which you strongly disagree, or greatly dislike.

Racism and any prejudice really. I spend a fair bit of time re-educating young people about statements that they make that are so subtly racist they don’t realise how these ideas are fully ingrained into their identity. And that is the kind of racism that I really dislike. That subtle kind that often goes unnoticed but somehow makes people feel like they aren’t actually doing anything wrong

Bonus: What is an opinion held by others that makes you angry?

Something that really grinds my gears is people who think that because they are parents of students and went to school themselves they know better than teachers how teachers should do their job. Almost everyone I meet who isn’t a teacher will tell me that they couldn’t do my job. Then in the next breath they are telling me how their child’s teacher is useless. In my experience the most troublesome kids often have “Shitty Home Life” syndrome. If your kid is acting up have a look in the mirror. And consider the idea that if we get rid of all the crap teachers out there a lot of kids simply wouldn’t have a teacher.

https://tmituesdayblog.wordpress.com/2022/05/16/tmi-tuesday-may-17-2022/

Hanging with Vanillas

Last night I went to the pub for a meal with a friend. As we dressed and prepared to leave I commented to Mr Jones that we should really do this kind of thing more often. We almost never go out for a meal just because it seems like fun. While we do go to our local swinger’s club for drinks and socialising reasonably regularly we never go to a pub to catch up with friends or to see a band.

When I was younger I didn’t have the social circle or the budget to be at the pub or partying on every weekend. So I was never really in the habit of going clubbing with friends. Heading out to see a band was a big deal for me. When Mr Jones and I started swinging our night life changed a lot. But all of the partying and socialising we did had particular focus that usually saw us naked and fucking by the end of the evening. Going to a bar to pay the crazy prices they charge for drinks just for shits and giggles has never been part of our regular schedule.

So we arrived and had a great meal with our friend. It was good to catch up and hang out. After our meal we ventured into the main bar where karaoke was cranking up. It was interesting seeing how the other half party. The drinking was similar. The weird behaviour and conversations over loud music were the same as I remembered and the same as most parties.

The thing that struck me was feeling at odds with how flirting worked. A woman came up to me and full on ran her hands over my body. I was taken aback. I thought she was with a man. I was with my husband. Later in the bar another man was giving off flirty vibes but he seemed a little reluctant. Obviously the presence of husband was an issue. I kept to myself. Unsure of where lines were and what was acceptable and what was not.

In the wash-up I am unconvinced it is something I would like to do every week. Maybe every now and then. I would rather hang out around a camp fire with some like minded souls. Or even at a pinch head out for dinner and drinks with similar like minded souls. At the end of the day the only thing in this world that should be vanilla is ice cream.

Today’s Word – Wet

If you live on the Eastern Seaboard of Australia you will be like me and have just lived through one of the wettest summers in memory. Large parts of our part of the world were flooded multiple times in the last few months. Just when we thought it was over and winter was here with some dry weather it started again. Not as much rain this time but then again it wasn’t really necessary. The ground is still wet from last time.

Yesterday it kind of stopped. We could see blue sky albeit briefly and the heaviest rain was kind of a drizzle. When we ventured to the park to stretch our legs water was literally pouring out of the ground down pathways. A weird thing happened in our house. The floors were wet. Like it was raining inside, even though our roof was fully intact. The go to solution for everyone was to blame humidity but a bit of research and I discovered that the dew point yesterday was 21 degrees (centigrade) meaning that during the day the air was wet enough and cool enough for condensation to form. And tada, dew inside!!

Hopefully, your Monday is a little dryer than mine.

Shadows of the Past

In my last two Thirty Dirty Questions Posts I have talked a little about my repressed upbringing and the long term effects that had on how I felt about my sexuality, my body and myself in general. What I hadn’t realised until a few days ago was that something else that has been bothering me is also linked to this ingrained guilt.

For the last little while I have been extremely self conscious about my “number”. When I think about the number of people I have fucked it makes me feel a number of negative things. Things like shame and guilt. Whenever people ask me how long I have been in the lifestyle this shame surfaces and I am reluctant to share an accurate figure or divulge exactly how active I have been. Which many people in my world think is a little odd. Most other women like myself have a similar number. Those I meet who are just starting out are often admiring of the way I have embraced my sexuality and feel so comfortable talking about what I do and don’t want.

A few days ago I was chatting at a gathering with a woman who has a similar longevity in the swing scene as myself. I didn’t ask about her number. I doubt that she really counted and she is definitely not concerned about it. What I realised during the course of the conversation is that this weirdness about my number was linked to the whole Catholic guilt thing. Strange how things from your past that you thought you had left behind can reach their long fingers into your present and push your buttons all over again.

Now that I have had that realisation I am better equipped to deal with it I guess. Although like all things in your head dealing with it is not just a case of telling it to go away. At least it is a step in the right direction.

TMI Tuesday – Moving Forward

Not a super sexy TMI today.

1. If you could see two things change about your significant other what would they be?

On reflection I would change whatever it is in his facial structure that causes his sleep apnea. Those of you who live with this problem or sleep next to someone who has this problem will know that it can be debilitating. CPAP machines can only do so much.

2. What are two things you forgot to celebrate last year?

I spent six months of last year on the ocean. Whilst we were never that far from civilisation and we did see people most days that kind of living is very removed from what most people experience. Many things that seem important in the “normal” world lost significance. The main thing we observed most days was the sunset.

3. Are you and your significant other both good at apologizing?

I am going to say no. Me because I apologise for everything including things that are not even remotely my fault. Him because he usually feels that he has a good reason for whatever he does or says and that means it is OK

4. What would you not admit on a first date?

How many people I have had sex with. Many people around me don’t feel that it is an issue but I am self conscious about it.

5. Is rebound sex empowering?

I believe anything you do while you are looking over your shoulder at past events is not empowering at all. I really hate it when people continuously try to make their ex regret leaving them. Rebound sex can be a lot of different things and I think it can be healing as long as it isn’t about trying to prove anything to your ex.

Bonus: How do you mend a broken heart?

If your heart is really truly broken there is not a quick fix. Knowing that it will eventually get better and moving forward even if it is slowly will heal things in time. Cliche I know. But that is all your are going to get from this guru today.

The Traveller – Part 2

You can read part 1 of this story here.

Over the next two days The Traveller and I fucked. Many times. I was amazed. He never seemed tired or unable to respond to me. My own response to him was also surprising to me. I never failed to respond to his touch. One moment we would be enjoying some sunshine and the nest my dress was pushed up and his fingers were exploring me. Drawing out my juice and making me almost beg for his cock.

We weren’t completely nude. But clothing was minimal. The days were warm and I enjoyed the sunshine. I was keen to enhance my tan as the last warm days of summer faded. Whenever I could find a warm sunny spot out of the wind I stripped down and lay around like a siren luring men to me. For the most part Mr Jones was amused. He watched us dancing around each other and me teasing a response from this man. He watched us fuck and then reclaimed his wife as much as he wanted.

I was never tired of looking at him. I loved the hair on his body. I loved to run my fingers through the rug on his chest. The silvery hairs seemed to make him more attractive. Like a silverback. Strong, virile and experienced. When he was fully naked I peeked at him around corners. Taking in the strong lines of his body and his round arse. Whenever I looked at his arse I wanted to grab it. I was reminded of how it felt to wrap my legs around it as he fucked me.

I am unsure of how I managed to walk on the last morning we were together. Or sex that morning was more leisurely. I was reflective knowing that I had to go back to reality and that this was probably the last time he would fuck me. We dragged ourselves out of bed and prepared for the day. I took the opportunity to be a lady of leisure as The Traveller took on my regular duties as a crew member. We sailed back towards the city line, leaving behind the quiet bay where we had spent the night.

As we sailed back to our home port I began to tidy our cabin and pack up clothing and washing from our trip. As I was pottering I became aware of him in the cabin that Mr Jones and I shared. Of all the places we had fucked Mr Jones’ and my bed was off limits. It wasn’t something spoken but something we agreed to. Over our time together Mr Jones and I have invited others into our own bed at home but for the most part we play somewhere else. A hotel a club, the play room or the guest cabin on the yacht.

The Traveller’s attention was unexpected. Our time was coming to an end. We had fucked so many times I was sure he had his fill. But then he was there, putting his hands on my waist, pulling me against his body as he nibbled on my neck. I sighed in pleasure as his hands reached inside my dress and cupped my breasts. My nipples hardened between his fingers and I reached back to slip my hands inside his pants. His cock as always was ready. He was a freak like that. Always ready. Always horny.

“How do you want me, Mrs Jones?” His voice was husky against my neck.

I smiled remembering being teased the night before about how greedy I had been. The Traveller insisted that I had initiated every one of our encounters. As much as I didn’t want to admit it he was right. But I told him that today was about him. He was the initiator.

“You are in charge today,” I replied. Attempting to fold clothing.

He moved me towards the stairs. “Here looks good,” He positioned me so that I was leaning over the staircase. I had never thought about using the stairs this way but any stray thoughts of dust and practicalities were banished as he entered me. Even after the last two days I still felt that thrill as he slid inside me. I was still transported by the sound of his breathing and the slap of his belly against my arse.

As always my body responded to him. Excitement rose as his pace increased.

“You are so fucking sexy,” his voice was strained with excitement. “Are you ready for one last load?”

“Yes,” My voice came out as a whisper.

“Here it comes,” I could feel the intensity and my own body responded.

With the now familiar grunt he climaxed. I could feel him pulsing inside me. I was never tired of that feeling. For a few moments we leaned against the stairs and he rested against me. I was really aware of the feeling that I never wanted this moment to end. I wanted to live like this forever. Reality was too hard.

We made our way back to our home berth, everything was tidy and packed away. As we said our goodbyes there we all expressed a hope that there would be a repeat in our future. As much as I want it to be that way I am not sure. He is a nomadic person. His wanderings don’t bring him to my little corner of the world much. But maybe, one day, the planets will align. In the meantime travel well sexy man. Enjoy life and be happy.

Bloopers

I took this image just after we returned from our voyage last year At the time I was uncertain of my direction with Sinful Sunday and I didn’t post it. Reviewing it tonight I liked it.

Until I noticed the unfortunate placement of a handle on a kitchen cupboard!!!!

The arse is still good though.

Weekend Meanderings

We have arrived In Port Stephens and yesterday spent a lovely day touring the coast. It is my first visit to this area either by land or by sea and I am enjoying seeing a different coastline with some entertaining and generous hosts. There were many sights to see and as a science and geology nerd I was kept interested by some spectacular rock formations. I don’t think I will ever tire of observing how the ocean shapes the coastline.

One of the highlights of the day was a sighting of a vulnerable species of sea bird called a Gould’s Petrel. Our hosts were proud to tell us that this particular species only nests in two places near their home. As we were cruising past these nesting sites we were discussing what the birds looked like and I observed what I thought was a tern. After some googling we discovered that we had in fact just observed a pair of the elusive birds. Further research taught me that in 1995 there were as few as 220 breeding pairs in existence but conservation work has helped the numbers to increase to around 1000 breeding pairs in 2007.

Later that evening we were discussing mutual friends and the definition of wanker came up in conversation. Mr Fisherman thought that our excitement about seeing the Gould’s Petrels would in many people’s eyes make us seem unusual and possibly fall into this category. My personal opinion for what it is worth…

It is a great tragedy that so many Australians have never travelled outside of major cities or regional centres and that most Australian school children are completely unfamiliar with all but the most common Australian native animals such as magpies, kangaroos and koalas.

If that makes me a wanker then so be it.

Later that evening we enjoyed each other’s company in a more adult way. There may have been some wankING but there were no wankERs.

Thirty Dirty Questions – Question 26

In my last post, masturbation, I spoke about my asexual upbringing. I lived on a farm. Everything was about reproduction but sex was not allowed. Rather, enjoying sex was not allowed. At least for the teenagers. The adults. I have no idea. At the time when I made choices about my education and earlier jobs I felt I was following the expected path. Get a university degree, get a good job. My mother is a control freak. For all of my life, including my life as an adult she did her best to be in charge of the decisions I made and to keep me in the mould she had determined made a ‘good daughter’. I could probably write a book about the ways she tried to manipulate me.

The education and the job led me to a place a six hour drive away. In hindsight it probably wasn’t far enough. Despite the distance she still tried to influence all of my choices and so the stupid Catholic, abstinence based ideas about sex continued to haunt me. My true sexual nature and my upbringing continued to wrestle with each other for a very long time. In some ways they still do. My current feelings about my ‘number’ are testimony to that.

But I lucked out. I met Mr Jones. Sex was a feature of our relationship very early on and the way that he encouraged me to express my sexuality was exactly what I needed. I had found a person who encouraged me to dress and act sexy instead of shaming me for it. He encouraged me to be nude and be proud of my body. Cheeky nude photos in the outdoors were a feature of our relationship from the beginning. When children came along our sex life struggled. Actually our marriage struggled. There was a man I almost had an affair with and then a long dark time of guilt.

But we made it through. And then we opened our marriage. The journey through the opening up has not been without its problems but together we have worked through it because we both knew that it was right for us. Our journey has always come back to a simple touch stone. What the other person needs and how we can make that work for us.

When I started writing this piece I was thinking that the thing I was most grateful for was my open marriage. But as I wrote I realised it went deeper than that. The thing I am most grateful for is Mr Jones.