Hug

Tall strong body

Long arms wrapped around

Warm breath in my hair

I rest my head against your shoulder

And I breathe

Inhale, your scent fills my nostrils

Exhale, stale air leaves my lungs

Inhale, freshness brings energy into my lungs

Exhale, I feel the negativity and stress leaving me

Your arms around me tighten

Holding me firmly against you

Protecting me

Inhale, strength building

Exhale, exhaustion fading

Your arms relax slowly

Releasing me

I hold tightly, not ready to leave yet

A few more moments

Inhale, energy in

Exhale, stress out

I am almost ready

My arms loosen

I tilt my face up to yours

Our lips meet

Strength flows from you to me

I am ready

To face the world again.

This post was part of Wicked Wednesday prompt #408 Hugging. While not specifically erotica I hope you enjoy this. As always make your way to Rebel’s page and check out the other entries.

My Wife Likes Cock

My wife loves cock. Maybe it is because we are British and sausage is kind of our national dish. I don’t know. She just loves it. When I met her she drooled over my cock and for twenty years she has sucked, fucked and wanked my cock any way I could ask for and quite a few I didn’t.

Recently we have been talking about her experimenting with other cocks. At first I was afraid. What if she was tired of mine? What if she found one bigger, better or nicer than mine?

I needn’t have worried. Our first encounter with another cock was the most erotic thing I have ever seen. The look on her face when he entered her. Something wild came alive in her. She fucked him hard while I watched. The whole time my hand was on my own throbbing cock. As I stroked myself our eyes met. Even though it was another man’s cock inside her I could feel all of her attention on me. She was just using this man as a sex toy, I could see her desire for me building up. When he was spent she discarded him like the toy he was to her and moved over to straddle me.

Entering her was like coming home, her smell, the feel of her curves under my hands was everything I remembered but inside she was slightly different. Someone had come into my house and moved the furniture a little. I liked it. I liked how wet she was and how wild she looked sitting astride me. Those fantastic breasts moving in time with the undulation of her body. I will never forget it.

The second time we visited the swing club we met another man. I was expecting something similar. I was hoping it would be similar.

We got chatting to another couple. The woman was amazing. So confident which made her so sexy. I could tell my wife was intrigued by her. The way she sat and the way that the man she had been so interested in a few moments earlier suddenly seemed irrelevant. As they chatted I noticed her take her hand off his cock. My mind wandered a little and then suddenly they were sitting beside each other.

Then something happened that I never expected. Never. The two women kissed. The whole time my wife protested,

“I just like cock.”

But she was the one wrapping her arms around the other woman. She was the one putting her tongue into the other woman’s mouth. She was the one who seemed to take forever before coming up for breath.

“But I just like cock.” She continued to protest even as she went for a second and third deep, passionate kiss. A small crowd of men formed around these two women, watching in fascination as they kissed and fondled each other’s breasts. The other woman’s breasts were a sight to behold. Fantastic, natural, smooth skinned and topped with beautiful nipples.

Then we were in a private room. Four people naked on a bed. The men bookended the two women who lay facing each other. They kissed and stroked each other before the other woman started to move downwards over my wife’s nipples and her soft belly.

“But I like cock.”

Why did she keep saying that? I don’t care if she likes pussy as well as cock. The woman who currently had her mouth over my wife’s cunt clearly didn’t care if she liked pussy. The only one in the room who felt the need to keep attached to cock was my wife.

The woman slipped her tongue into my wife’s slit. Her body arched in pleasure. I have licked that cunt thousands of times. I have heard those noises of pleasure. I had never watched her respond. It was like watching her be fucked. She became that wild free being again. All of the restraint and daily junk left her and she was that wild free sex goddess again.

She lifted herself off the bed and sat with her knees spread as the woman fucked her pussy with two fingers. My wife’s head fell back as sounds of her pleasure filled the room. Everything about her deserved worship. The curve of her back, the round fullness of her breasts, her smooth skin and the unrestrained pleasure noises coming from her mouth. I wanted to fuck her so much but at the same time I felt removed. I felt like a peasant in the room with a goddess.

Then she did something I NEVER expected. NEVER.

She pushed the woman down on the bed and spread her legs. Softly and reverently she began to eat her pussy. The woman lay back, being cradled by her husband. She responded the same way my wife did. Her back arched in pleasure pushing forward those amazing breasts. Our eyes locked as she twisted her fingers into my wife’s hair.

“She might like cock but she seems to like pussy as well,”

Finally she pushed my wife away.

“Enough,”

My wife moved over to me and kissed me on the lips. She tasted like cunt. Sweet, salty beautiful cunt. It was the first time in almost twenty years I had tasted another woman’s cunt. And it was from my wife’s lips.

“Baby I need you to fill me,” she begged.

I was only too happy to oblige.

This Teacher Life

Earlier in the week I posted about my frustration with Corona Virus. It was not so much  a comment about the virus itself but more groan of frustration with the way that people around me are reacting.

In case you haven’t read me before I am a teacher of teenagers. I teach Mathematics and Science to students aged between 13 and 18. I seem to have a way with students who find Mathematics difficult and who have disengaged from Maths learning due to continual failure, usually as a result of poor teaching to begin with but we won’t go in to that!!!. Consequently those are the classes I get assigned.

Teenagers love drama. My students, who aren’t really motivated to engage in learning, are particularly fond of it basically because it is the only reason they come to school. So after a day of dealing with constant questions about “When is school getting shut down?”,  ridiculous reactions every time someone in the room sneezes or coughs, and chatter about ridiculous rumors naming any number of people who are infected, I was done.

For the record at this time Australia is yet to crack 1000 cases (source).

Around the time I made the post I was also made aware that one person in the blogosphere at least was concerned about my reduced rate of posting. Thank you very much for your concern Mr A. So I am here to reassure everyone that I am not infected. I am also starting to think that I am living in the only country in the world that is not in lockdown.

The reason for the lack of posts? Boring, ordinary, end of term workload. As I type I am contemplating the draft assignments sitting on my laptop waiting for my pearls of feedback wisdom, the completed assignments waiting for my grading wisdom and the online lesson delivery resources that I need to prepare just in case the school does get shut down.

Despite what my students think, school getting shut down does not mean an instant holiday for everyone. For teachers it is about working out a whole bunch of new ways to convey ideas and information. For many of us it is about learning how to use technology that we are very unfamiliar with. I have been to training sessions to help with this in the last few weeks but still, when in front of students, the tools don’t sit as easily in my hand as a whiteboard marker and my voice. And that is when I am just in practise mode and can revert to the tried and true when a student really doesn’t get it. What happens when they are behind a screen?

So I am still here. My life is definitely not sexy at the moment. My writing is struggling but there are still bits and pieces happening when I get a chance. Roll on actual end of term holidays that are two weeks away.

Image result for school holidays gif

TMI Tuesday – Corona Virus Edition

I am seriously done with Covid-19. I am tired of media reports and I am tired of teenagers over dramatising the situation.

1. Assume that in the future there will be huge leaps in human augmentation. Given a scale from completely human to completely machine, how far would you choose to augment yourself with robotics? What parts would you augment and why?

I suffer from industrial deafness which is not seriously debilitating but I would love to fix that. Perhaps I would like to see what it would be like to be fully augmented Barbie, glamour doll with perfect features but in all honesty I am pretty happy with the way I am.

2. In your community, are events, school, and large gatherings forbidden or cancelled due to COVID-19?

I am fortunate that I am living in Australia. Our current number of confirmed cases is in the low 300s. We have restrictions on gatherings of more than 500 people and compulsory self isolation for 14 days if you return to Australia from overseas travel. At the moment schools are still open despite a plethora of stupid rumours, and constant questions about when school will be closed.

For us the weather is still quite warm. Our winter and traditional flu season is ahead of us so we are yet to experience the full brunt of Covid-19

3. Has your work schedule changed due to COVID-19–i.e., onsite work changed to teleworking or shortened shifts or no work at all?

Not yet. I think it will. We are currently preparing to deliver our lessons online and as I said in question 2 our flu season is ahead of us so the truly crazy stuff is yet to come.

4. What gets too much attention in the news?

Do I really have to answer that?

Instead let’s have another meme

5. How do you get your news?

I don’t like to read papers or watch TV news. I usually listen to actual radio in the car so get the short news bulletins from commercial radio on the way to and from work.

Otherwise I get updated on the current affairs that interest Mr Jones when I get home from work in the afternoon. So I feel like I keep on top of things sort of.

Bonus: Do you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day? This year how will you celebrate?

Most years I do like to try and wear something green or some shamrock earrings on St Patrick’s day but this year it completely slipped my mind. The social club at my work organised a green themed St Patrick’s morning tea which featured delicious food prepared by our hospitality students. I was lucky to grab a plate as I galloped out the door to supervise a playground during break time. So not really feeling the Irish love today.

Bonus bonus. This post has been very unsexy. So I thought I should include an image to sex things up a bit

This post is part of this week’s TMI Tuesday. For more TMI goodness head on over and check it out.

Round Two

The first part of the story of Josie and Chad was published here.

This instalment sees the tension and pleasure shared increase as the two lovers dance a dance orchestrated by Chad’s wife.

Chad would like to see you again ….

It was the text that Josie had been waiting for. It had killed her to walk away from him last time without allowing him to touch her. Teasing him had been one of the most arousing things she had ever done. Using him as her personal sex toy to get off had given her one of the most intense orgasms that she had ever experienced. But she missed allowing him to reciprocate.

I was hoping he would… Will there be any special requests?

Josie couldn’t stop herself from asking. As much as she wanted to follow her own agenda she was very aware that Chad belonged to someone else. As delicious as he was he was only on loan. Her access to him was at the whim and with the conditions of the woman he was married to. The mother of his children.

Not really, the reply lifted a weight from Josie, he would like to have dinner with you first though.

I can do that! The reply almost typed itself.

I think it would be fun if you dress sexy. I love the idea of you both being in a public place and him having to behave. 

Josie had the perfect dress! Times and places to meet were arranged. Never once did it seem odd to Josie that these arrangements were made by Chad’s wife and not by Chad himself. Feeling like they were both puppets being played by a third party added another level to the game and Josie liked it.

The restaurant was busy but Josie easily spotted him as she entered. He was dressed the way she thought he would be, as if had just finished work in his conservative inner city office. His crisp business shirt was unbuttoned st the neck and his sleeves were rolled up but he still had that awkward shy look about him. As if he would rather be hiding behind his desk.

His eyes lit up as she walked towards him. His whole body seemed to relax a little but in his eyes she could see desire burning as he took in her dress, the way it hugged her body but allowed a glimpse of her cleavage. It sowed her body without being obvious. Her curves were on display but her skin was not.

The look on his face told her that he was remembering when he had seen what was under there. It was as if she was walking naked between the tables. She held her head high and looked him in the eye challenging him.

Like the true gentleman he was he stood and held her chair. Graciously she allowed him to attend to her, noting the way he lingered for a moment standing slightly behind her as she sat. His glance down the cleavage of her dress was like a physical caress. Josie felt her nipples stiffen in response. A small drop of wetness formed between her legs.

Without speaking he chose his char, not opposite but to her side.

“I want to be able to touch you,” his voice seemed alien before Josie remembered they hadn’t spoken when she met him. This was the first time they had actually spoken.

Under the table his hand travelled up her thigh, finding its way under the fabric of her dress. His fingers grazed her naked, freshly shaved pussy. Their eyes met, his wide with surprise and hers daring him. The desire in his eyes caused the wetness in her cunt to flow.

“You know I am not really that hungry,” he said causally. Meanwhile his hand under the table stroked the smooth soft skin of her mound. It was as if it had a life of its own.

Desperately trying to stay cool Josie picked up the menu herself. The words on the page made no sense at all.

“I am not sure,” she replied, remembering her instructions to tease.

He inserted his finger into the top of her slit. A tiny fraction of the tip of his finger was in contact with her swelling clit. He looked st the menu for a few more moments before he placed it firmly on the table.

“Nothing there is really grabbing me,” he looked intently at her as he slid his finger deeper into her slit. It felt as if her clit was straining towards him.

“Maybe the linguine,” she was desperately fighting herself and trying to be true to the woman who had engineered this.

Chad took the menu from her hands and looked intently into her eyes as he slowly and deliberately rand his finger over her clit and down into her now dripping cunt,

“I know my wife told you that we would have dinner and that you were to tease me the whole time. I wouldn’t be surprised if she also told you not to wear panties.”

Josie could not reply. Her whole attention was taken up by the hand that was skilfully working her cunt under the table. It was all she could do to stop herself from moaning out loud.

Just when she thought she could bear no more he removed his hand away. A sharp pang of loss jolted through her. He smiled seductively as he placed his fingers on her lips. The smell of her cunt was strong. Her tongue flicked out and tasted the juice there,

“I want you to lick that juice off my cock,” he spoke quietly, so that no one else could hear. He took her hand and placed it on his crotch. His cock was straining against the zip of his pants. For a split second Josie considered sliding under the table to suck his cock but she couldn’t bring herself to be so daring. She remembered the last time they were together, what it felt like to straddle him while he was inside her. The feel of his hardness grinding inside her and the sound of him cumming. Suddenly the determination to follow her instructions seemed to melt away.

 

Friday Night TMI

Another week over. I didn’t get a chance to answer the TMI questions but sitting on the couch on Friday night is as good a time as any.

1. What word is a lot of fun to say?

Unoriginal I know but ‘Fuck’ it is such a versatile word.

I am not sure if it is an Australian thing but we use fuck for a lot of things.some examples are;

“Fuck off” = go away.

“Fuck me” = didn’t see that coming

“Well that is fucked” = that is really broken/ not great

“He is a complete fuckwit” = this guy has no idea

On a side note I have noticed I use this word way too much. To the point I decided I should give it up for Lent (weird Catholic tradition you can read about it here). Since Lent started I seem to have used this word even more.

2. What is your go to euphemism for sexual intercourse?

I am really not great with subtleties. So despite using the word Fuck too much for things not relating to sex if I am asking for sex it is going to be something like “let’s fuck!”

3. What current trend do you hope will go away very soon?

Tick Tok

As a teacher I get to learn about a whole lot of stupid teenage fads. Tick Tok is something which seems to be persisting for a while longer than expected. It has spawned a bunch of ridiculous behaviours and can have a bit of a sinister, online bullying undertone. Also like most social media/ online things it takes up way too much brain space and does little to foster genuine creativity.

I will be happy when I don’t need to police kids trying to use their phones to make Tick Toks when they are supposed to be studying.

4. If you could hack into any one computer, which computer would you choose?

I think the one the pathology laboratory keeps its results on. You never know what kind of juicy gossip you could find out from that!!!

5. Would you rather never be stuck in traffic again or never get another cold? Why?

Lounge poll of Mr Jones, boy child and myself revealed the following;

Mr Jones: Never get a cold because colds can kill you. He is a little bit influenced by reading too many Internet articles about Covid-19

Boy Child: Never get stuck in traffic because colds are not that annoying.

Gemma: Never get stuck in traffic because that is the pits. I have chosen jobs and house locations to avoid traffic so clearly it is a problem for me.

This post is part of TMI Tuesday. For other TMI revelations head on over to the TMI page.

Tuesday Morning Conversation

So as seems to happen my twitter followers have heard the punchline of this conversation with me but I felt the need to share the following conversation with you all.

So this guy messaged me on the swingers dating app I use. In actual fact I had sworn off contacting people from this app for a while because it has become HARD WORK. I really don’t know why I broke this promise to myself but here is what went down:

Initial message: Hey you look super sexy I would like to get to know you better.

For the record he was listed as living in Newcastle, about 700km from me. That is what made me think chatting to him would be a bit of harmless fun.

Response: We can chat if you like my Kik is …..

He messaged me back almost straight away but I didn’t respond. Something about his Kik profile didn’t feel good. I should have taken it as a sign. So next morning;

Gemma: sorry I didn’t respond last night I crashed really early.

CFW (Thhis stands for complete fucking wanker. Reasons for this alias will become apparent very soon): I want you to suck my dick

Really I should have shut this down then and there. This kind of opening never ends well but I am all for giving someone the benefit of the doubt

Gemma: I only sick dicks that are big enough and pretty enough.

CFW: sends dick pic. It wasn’t pretty and who can tell size from a close up with no point of reference.

Gemma: If it isn’t in real life it doesn’t count

CFW: Can I see your pussy?

Gemma: amuses herself by sending ‘pussy’ pic

CFW: Lol

At this point I leave to drive 20mins to work. I thought that was that but I was wrong

CFW: I want to lick you.

I decide he is not going to get the hint so I give it to him straight

Gemma: Look I don’t do sexting or sex chat or any of the things that involve me talking dirty and sending pics while you wank. If that is what you want then I am not your girl.

Again. I think That is that, but it wasn’t. I get to work

CFW: I am looking to hook up

Gemma: so tell me your story

At this point I have ignored multiple red flags and STILL I am engaging this person. And then it happens

CFW: I am just looking for a hole to fill. I don’t want to be your mate.

What

The

Actual

Fuck???????

I know that men sometimes think this. I know that many think this without actually admitting it but saying it to someone you are supposedly trying to get sex with?

Gemma: well you aren’t going to fill this hole because your dick is not big nor pretty enough.

Yes I should have shut it down. Blocked him, deleted the conversation, ghosted him but I wanted to make him feel as worthless as he had just done to me.

CFW: well you are a fat old granny I bet you won’t enjoy the 10 years you have left.

Then in the middle of the staff room, getting ready for classes and a day of wrestling with teenagers I did what I should have done after the first message. Deleted the conversation. Ended it.

I was shocked, hurt, violated. Worse, I had no one to share what had just happened to me. Not one of the 130 odd people sharing the staff room with me at that moment could help me. They don’t know what I do, they can’t know what I do. I had to just pull myself together and move on.

There are those who would say putting it out there meant I asked for it. I didn’t. I was polite, I was clear about what I am about. Nothing about anything I do made what CFW said OK. Don’t get me wrong, it is perfectly ok to say “I am just looking for sex” and “I don’t want to get intimate”

Telling someone that you see them as a cum bucket, that is not OK. Responding in such a nasty way when you get rejected. That is not OK. It is never ok to be rude or treat someone like junk.

For the record I spent the rest of the day grumpy and out of sorts. I am proud however of the fact that what he said didn’t make me feel less sexy or attractive. It hasn’t made me question my lifestyle or my choices about hooking up for sex. I AM attractive and he definitely was the one who missed out. I refuse to stop believing in myself.

This post is listed as part of Wicked Wednesday prompt #405 Don’t Stop Believing. As always there is a plethora of talented writers to enjoy so get on over at check them out!

The Perfect Friday Night

I am not sure if school swimming carnivals are a thing in the rest of the world. But here in the Land Down Under the school swimming carnival is an institution that causes great joy in the minority of a school population, a neutral feeling in probably the majority and angst in the rest of us. For teachers swimming carnivals are, like a lot of whole school sporting events, a chance for those kids who struggle in the classroom to shine. They also represent a day of trying to co-erce reluctant students to compete, trying to soothe kids who find large crowds of people stressful and trying to be positive and up beat when hit with complaints about how boring this is.

In the land of long hot summers swimming is something almost every child learns how to do to some degree. So everyone has at least one set of swimmers and the ability to complete 50m of freestyle. Therefore it is reasonable to expect most students to jump in and have a go. What is not unreasonable is teenage girls in swimsuits that display all of their butt cheeks (very uncomfortable for male teachers) and the occasional boy in good old Budgie Smugglers, Dick Togs, Speedos or whatever you want to call them. (Not something I need to see EVER!!!)

budgie smugglers

So after a long day of coercing students to compete in events, encouraging students to clean up their rubbish, supervising a stupidly slow canteen line and dealing with a student who decided it would be funny to moon a teacher who went into the boys change rooms to investigate raucous behavior I was more than relieved to kick back with a wine or two at Staff Friday Drinks. That was when the perfect Friday Night Plan was born.

Twitter followers will be familiar with this plan. The essence was as follows;

Step 1: Drink wine with colleagues in the staff room after work

Step 2: Go home and immerse myself in a bath while someone else makes my dinner

Step 3: Eat dinner

Step 4: Go to my local swinger’s club, find a nice young man and enjoy myself a MMF.

When I initially tweeted this the after work drinking was happening. Mr Jones had done a stellar job of parenting and picked up the girl child so I was free to come home when I was ready. As I wrote the initial plan into Twitter I felt that it was not realistic. But as I slid into my car to drive home, thank goodness I didn’t run into a police person who wanted to breathalyze me or things could have gone very wrong!!, some of the positive self talk that I have been practising lately kicked in. I decided that I could and should see if the plan could happen.

On arrival at home I was pleased to find dinner underway. The plan was happening without too much effort on my part. It wasn’t going to be fine dining. Mr Jones is not a skilled cook but I didn’t have to cook and I was grateful. My daughter decided to jump in the bath which did make me re-consider but somehow things seemed to fit together. I found myself relaxing in a tub of warm water.

Note to self; request bubble bath for Mother’s Day.

Long story short dinner happened, I got dressed, I looked hot and I found myself at the club. It was a little quiet. The last few times Mr Jones and I went there it was a bit of a sausage fest. I was hoping for something similar, because sausages were a big part of the plan. I was a little disappointed but as time went by a younger man appeared.

Within a relatively short space of time I found myself naked on a bed between two men. The plan was definite falling in to place. My new friend’s skin was so smooth. He was so young and seemed so inexperienced. It didn’t matter. I had Mr Jones’s cock in my pussy and my new friend’s cock down my throat. I was in my happy place.

I am not sure what it is about a spit roast, it just feels so fucking good. The feeling of Mr Jones’ arms around me while he fucked me was the best feeling. I felt so close to him. Something I needed. Even if I didn’t realise it. I lay back while Mr Jones fucked me and I put the other man’s hands on my pussy. His fingers worked my clit as the cock slid in and out of me. For a brief while I thought about trying to encourage him to put his cock inside me beside Mr Jones’. It was a passing thought.

I could feel the orgasm building. I wasn’t entirely expecting it but there it was. For a moment I could feel the tension building then it seemed to ebb away. My friend caressed my clit, working it beautifully. Mr Jones’ cock slid in and out of me. Maybe the position which was not something we usually did. Maybe the intensity of the night.

The orgasm built again, faster than I expected. When I came it was like thunderstorm gripping my body. I knew I needed the experience but I hadn’t realised how much. The feeling of peace that came over me was the most relaxed I had been in weeks.

But it wasn’t done. I needed to watch the new man cum. I encouraged him to fuck me hard. As he fucked me I watched his face. There is something about watching a man climax. It is as satisfying as my own climax. I was lucky this night. Not only did I enjoy some truly special sex and a mind blowing orgasm but I also got to feel the climax of my new friend and finally my husband.

Afterwards my new friend left the room. I will probably not see him again but it doesn’t matter. My plan came to fruition, it was the perfect Friday Night,.