Masturbation Chain

I don’t masturbate a lot. Maybe once every couple of weeks. There are probably a lot of stupid, Catholic guilt reasons in my subconscious for this but I am not writing to tell that story today.

I also don’t really like conventional porn. What I do like are images shot by real men usually of themselves. @Justaaussieguy is an example. Recently I have discovered Life of Elliot which I have enjoyed reading immensely. A couple of days ago he posted a story about masturbation which featured an image of him in the act, so to speak. He is undoubtedly an exceptionally sexy man.

After reading his story I found myself in bed texting some nudes to Johnny (another sexy man) and I did something I rarely do. I got out my dildo and started to take pictures of myself masturbating. At first it was kind of a tease for Johnny. I didn’t really intend to follow through.

Or did I? Elliot’s story was in my mind as I stroked the cool glass over my clit and slid it down to my opening. His words twist around in my mind.

I can feel the tingle in my scrotum of jism forming

I do like that dildo. Glass is so smooth and slides so easily before I am even truly wet. There is no need for lube. I slipped the round head inside myself teasing my opening and made a short video for Johnny.

By now I was becoming more aroused. The dildo made slick, wet noises as I moved it around my pussy. I slid it in deeper, pressing myself open. My fingers worked my clit and soft sighs came from my mouth. I could feel the orgasm nudging around but I wanted to hold it off and enjoy myself a little longer.

I made another video and he sent me dirty talk. The kind he says while he is fucking me.

Cum for me

Thoughts of him jumbled into my thoughts of Elliot gripping his cock under the sheets in the early hours of the morning. In the next room I could hear the sound of the TV. Mr Jones was watching some weird movie and talking with our son. I blocked out the threat to my fantasy and focussed on the pressure building in my even wetter cunt.

For s while longer I held myself in that space enjoying the pleasure of my body. I stroked my clit and slid the glass shaft into my cunt, twisting it to put pressure on the right places. I allowed myself to go deeper seeking out the orgasm I had been playing with.

The dildo moved faster. On my clit my finger pressed harder and moved more vigorously. My breathing was heavier and small whimpers came from my mouth. I was close now, I could feel it but the orgasm can be an elusive beast. For a few seconds it threatened to disappear. My mind wandered to the sounds in the next room but I wrenched it back. Intently I fingered myself and I pressed the head of my dildo against the back wall of my vagina, there it was sitting right on the edge of my mind. Carefully I coaxed with strokes and plunges. All the time my breathing got heavier. The pressure built.

Right in the frenzy I spasmed. All of the muscles in my body tensed in the grip of my orgasm. My fingers stopped as I moaned my pleasure. A small jet of juice spurted out to cover my hand and dampen the sheets, I lay back on the pillow, enjoying the afterglow. I knew I would sleep well.

This post is part of Wicked Wednesday. Head on over and check out who else is being wicked this week.

TMI Tuesday – Socially Distant Edition #3

I wrote the initial responses to the questions after an 11 hour work day. Teaching right now is very very challenging. I have not worked on preparing lessons so much since I was a first year teacher. Being older and wiser means I am even more conscious of the quality of my teaching. That just makes me push harder and, well, let’s just say I am tired.

Wisely I decided to review this after some sleep before I posted. So I will keep the original answers and add some “morning after” notes.

1. So, what’s your typical work uniform if you are working from home?

I wish I was working from home! Right now I would love to be home all day,

in my pyjamas,

eating chocolate.

At the time when I wrote this I was in my pyjamas eating chocolate. It was a great way to be. But honestly I have face to face time with my students every lesson so pyjamas is probably not a good idea.

2. Are you eating more _____ under coronavirus lock-down or self-quarantine? (choose all that apply)
a. prepared foods
b. fresh produce
c. frozen food (veggies, entrees, pizzas, etc.)
d. snacks foods (cookies, cakes, ice cream, chips, crackers, candy, etc.)
d. homemade soups, stews, casseroles
e. I’m just eating more…everything.

As I have kind of explained in my Food 4 Thought post last week I am not really in what the rest of the world knows as lockdown.

Having said that we have just had two weeks of Easter holidays during which I ate a lot of: b. Fresh produce and d. Home made soups, stews and casseroles.

This was followed by two weeks of introduction to online teaching during which I have eaten a bunch of d. Snack foods in particular, chocolate and cookies.

Being kinder to myself I am eating a bit of chocolate at the moment but it is actually Easter remains. I am not actively buying extra. But in a week or so when the Easter chocolate is gone? Hopefully then we will be back to regular classes.

3. What are you planning to do?

Tonight; finish this blog and then go to bed.

Today conquer the education world with spectacularly designed lessons.

4. Picked up any new hobbies lately?

Not really. I have revisited an old hobby that I haven’t had a lot of time to work on though. During the recent Easter break I made my daughter a brand new dress.

I also have a pending dress that is made from the same fabric. I had a calculation error and bought wayyyyyy too much.

5. Would you rather be compelled to high five everyone you meet or be compelled to give wedgies to anyone in a green shirt?

I am going to go with high fives. No one should ever be subjected to wedgies.

Bonus: Would you rather live in virtual reality where you are all powerful or live in the real world and be able to go anywhere but not be able to interact with anyone or anything? A god in the machine or a ghost in the real world.

I am already a goddess! So I am going with the virtual option. At least I get to control my environment,

Bonus Bonus:

Someone told me this week they thought my butt was the eighth wonder of the world. So behold the eighth wonder of the world

This post is part of TMI Tuesday. For more weirdness, sexiness and just plain excellence. Check it out here

USB Flashback – Naughty but Nice

Naughty but nice

The big yellow building swung into view through Brent’s windscreen. For a moment he sat in the car park looking at the rain and hoping for it to ease. Around him the car park was almost empty. Of course rain like this would deter most people from visiting the adult store but Brent didn’t care. At least it would mean that he would not have to share that awkward moment standing next to a guy while you are trying to decide between Squirting Babes and Pegging Ladies. Brent’s butt cheeks twitched. Maybe he might look for a butt plug to go with his DVD. The evening yawned ahead of him. No-one was home and all his friends were busy with their girlfriends. There was only so much footy you can watch on your own.

The heavy pelt of the rain eased a little and he took the chance to race into the store. He stepped through the door and stood for a moment wiping the water from his face and shaking his head. Looking around he confirmed his suspicions, he had the store all to himself. Behind the counter a middle aged woman sorted through boxes of condoms. She looked up briefly to nod hello before turning back to her work. Brent made his way to the DVD section at the back of the store where he spent a few moments scanning the shelves. A cover depicting a busty woman wearing a massive strapon and kneeling behind a man on all fours caught his eye. His anus twitched and he felt his butt clench in tingling anticipation. He didn’t even bother looking for squirting videos. He spent a few moments perusing covers, each image increasing his desire to feel that pressure against his ass, opening him and penetrating him. He made his choice and then trying to look casual strolled past the racks of Hens Night games to the more serious toy section.

This part was harder, he had never bought anything like this before. He looked at the array of choices before him, long and slender, short and squat, vibrating, silicone, latex, some looking extremely phallic, some looking like weird doctors tools. His mind spun with choice but after reading a few packs he narrowed it down to a choice between two. The first was a slender solid silicone piece that promised mind blowing prostate orgasms. The second was a series of beads with a small vibrator.

For long moments he stood considering his purchase before a movement beside him caught his attention. He looked sideways and noticed a young woman standing in front of the vibrators. She seemed oblivious to him as she slid different items off the rack and tried to examine them through the packaging. Brent watched her for a moment; an image of her sitting on her bed fucking herself with the dong she had in her hand filled his mind. He forgot about his decision as he watched her brow furrow in concentration. Suddenly she looked up straight into his eyes,

“Don’t you wish that they had a demo model for these things,” she held up the package.

Brent was nonplussed, “I guess,” he replied hesitantly.

“I mean you can’t even tell what the surface feels like or what the vibrations are like,” she continued. “And once you have opened them and tested them you can’t exactly bring it back and swap it for another model.”

Brent was intrigued. He had never had a conversation like this with anyone before. “Well I can’t say I can help you out,” he ventured. “It isn’t like I have the opportunity to test a wide range of women’s vibrators.”

The woman threw back her head and laughed, “I guess not. What are you doing here then?” She looked him up and down, “I thought you were buying a present for your girl.”

Brent hesitated for a moment. Suddenly the idea that had brought him in here seemed weird. But his mind reasoned, so was talking to a complete stranger about try before you buy vibrators was pretty weird so why not go with it?

“Well,” he began and found himself showing the cover of the DVD he had selected. “I was kinda looking for a toy that I could use while watching this.” He looked away feeling sheepish.

The girl stepped forward and took the DVD from his hand. She whistled softly,

“Lucky girlfriend that gets to do that to you,” she looked at him slightly differently.

“If I had a girlfriend who would do that to me I wouldn’t be buying a DVD to watch.” Brent smiled ruefully. “Lucky boyfriend who gets to watch you use that thing,” he pointed at the package in her hand.

“You are not the only lonely single in here looking for something to spice up the self-loving,” the girl held out her hand, “I am Sonia,”

Brent took her hand, “Nice to meet you Sonia.” He replied. “By the way, when I did have a girlfriend she used to swear by the rabbit vibe, hers looked pretty much like that one there.”

Sonia slipped the package back on the rack and selected the one Brent had indicated. “That is as good a referral as I am going to get. I don’t have a prostate but my last fuck buddy swore by them.” She ventured.

Brent turned back to the rack to make the correct selection. When he looked back Sonia was standing at the counter paying for her purchase. By the time Brent reached the counter she was heading for the door. Impatiently he paid for his purchases, glancing over his shoulder towards the doorway. The door buzzer sounded as the cashier gave him his change.

Outside the store he almost bowled her over as she sheltered in the doorway. The rain was belting down harder than before. Brent looked longingly at his car parked only about twenty metres away but he recoiled from the idea of running through this rain.

“Don’t you hate it when you are horny and you have to walk home in the rain before you can use your new sex toy?” Sonia asked in the same matter of fact way she had discussed the vibrator in the store. “Looking at that pic on your DVD has got me even more wound up than I was before.”

Brent looked at her, his fantasy returned, but he struggled to think of a response that wouldn’t weird her out.

“I have a car over there,” he offered lamely.

Sonia’s face lit up, “Perfect,” she threw over her shoulder as she sprinted for the car.

By the time Brent slid into the driver’s seat and closed the door against the pouring rain she had her jeans pulled down and her hand between her legs. Brent sat watching her, mesmerised. She slid down the seat so that she could pull her jeans down a little further and open her legs. With shaking fingers she ripped at the plastic packaging pulling out the vibe and tinkering with the controls. Brent felt for a moment that she had forgotten that he was there.

“Oh my fucking god I am so horny,” she muttered. Her hand slipped between her thighs and Brent could see her fingers moving around. She picked up the vibe and began to stroke herself with it. A shudder went through her as she slid it into herself. “That is good,” a long sigh passed through her lips. She began to move the vibe in and out of herself slowly, turning her wrist experimenting with pressure points. Her other hand gripped the side of the seat.

A low groan came out of her lips and she threw her head backwards, “That is it,” she increased the speed of her thrusts, “Right there, Oh fuck,” The vibe glistened with her wetness and she was almost pounding herself with it. “That’s it,” she whispered to herself. The pounding continued and Brent noticed the little furrow in her brow.

“I am gonna cum,” she announced to the car in general. Brent was sure that she wasn’t aware of him at all. “OH MY FUCKING GOD!!! FUUUUUCCCK!” she screamed. Brent looked nervously out of the window but of course no one was hanging around in the rain looking at this woman fucking herself in the front seat of his car.

When he looked back she was slumped in the seat with the vibe resting on her thigh. Her face glowed as she panted in pleasure. “You have no idea how much I wanted that,” she grinned at him.

Brent nodded in agreement. For a moment he considered pulling down his zip and rubbing a quick one out himself. Without thinking he looked down at his crotch. The bulge was hard to miss.

Sonia followed his gaze, “Hmmmm it seems I am not the only one with an itch to scratch.” She grinned mischievously.

Brent wriggled uncomfortably.

“You know that was just a warm up for me,” she looked suggestively at him. “I really have an itch to fuck a boy’s ass right now. Would you like me to give you a hand breaking in your new toy?” she rested her hand on his thigh, next to his bulging cock that was starting to leak precum onto his boxers.

Brent turned the key in the ignition, “Your place or mine?”

sex toys

I Love you Pisshead

This week’s prompt

I have this friend. It is one of the most unusual relationships I have ever had or heard of anyone else having. He is also one of my oldest friends. I met him what seems like a million years ago through some weird flirty Facebook app back when I masqueraded as a stay home parent for a couple of years. Mr Jones and I had embarked on our swinging journey but I wouldn’t say that we had settled in to it very well. Hence the weird flirty app that I never really told him about.

My friend, Petal, for want of a better name, lived close to where I had as a child. Considering that I come from a relatively small town it is interesting that we didn’t really know each other. Although we worked out that we have some mutual acquaintances. Back then he was unhappy with most of the things in his life, his job, his marriage, how his finances were placed. We chatted I think on MSN (who even remembers that!!). I used to call him Mr Grumpy because he was always complaining.

We lived a five hour drive apart. Meeting in real life was never a priority for us. So we chatted, at first on MSN and then by text. We spoke most days even if it was to say good morning and good night only. In between we talked about everything. His job, his marriage, our kids, my sex life, his lack of sex life. He was one of the few people who knew all my nuances.

He told me that I was his fantasy girl. He was infatuated by my sexual openness and adventures and loved to hear tales and receive the occasional picture. For my part I enjoyed the ego boost of his compliments. Mr Jones was always aware of our communication and sometimes participated in the conversation. Like me he was in awe of this unique relationship.

Despite the distance that separated us most of the time there were occasions when we were close enough together to touch but we never met in person. There was always an excuse or some life event that got in the way. I found this a little disconcerting and questioned him about it. He told me that I was his fantasy girl that lived in his phone and he didn’t want to risk the relationship by bringing it into reality. How could I disagree with that?

Time passed he moved even further away from me, got a better job and somehow his relationship with his wife matured and became comfortably happy. Still we kept in contact, sharing little life events, deaths of workmates, unexpected grandparent hood, sex, lack of sex, masturbation and sometimes pictures. He became a FIFO worker in a coal mine and his habit on finishing his shift was to have a few drinks. I could always tell when he had done this because I would receive the text

“I love you.”

My reply was always the same

“I love you too pisshead.” For those who aren’t familiar with the term, it is an Australian slang word for someone who drinks regularly or who is drunk.

And we do love each other. In the way of lifelong friends who may or may not fuck at some time.

During 2019 we actually met!! He gave up watching State of Origin to meet me when I was staying overnight in his town. Again, for the non Australians State of Origin has the same level of importance as the Superbowl. We sat on the beach and chatted. I got my first “Petal hug” it was amazing. Nothing about how we were changed after that meeting. We agreed that we may have sex sometime but only if it felt right. Since then we have continued in our old patterns. Except now we just say we love each other. There doesn’t have to be alcohol involved.

I have made a statement that we should meet in person at least once each year. It took us eight years to meet for the first time. I don’t want to wait eight more years for another hug. I am not sure if I will be able to make this happen. There is more than 1000 kilometres between us. Add to that the unusual nature of our friendship and it is complex.

We still text most days even if it is just to say hello. I still notice if I haven’t heard from him in a few days. He is truly a lifelong friend. I hope that we keep in touch for the rest of our lives,

The Lockdown That Wasn’t

IMG_1763 (2)

When I was growing up a popular way that Australians liked to refer to their country was “The lucky country”. There are so many things about Australia that make it somewhere very special to live. Our climate, our freedom, the fact that we have never experienced wide-scale war or civil unrest and, more recently, we have one of the lowest rates of infection of Covid-19 in the world.

It hasn’t meant that we aren’t restricted in our movements. Where I am living public gatherings of more than two people are illegal, schools for the most part are closed, non-essential retailers are closed, gyms and many health related services are also closed. In the supermarkets there have been shortages of flour, meat, pasta, rice and of course toilet paper. For a short while a visit to the supermarket was a little crazy. The “Stay home and save lives” message is in full swing. According to our health experts it is working. We have had a significant reduction in active cases across the country. For almost two weeks our daily increase in cases has been at one percent or less.

With all of this happening the news is now full of interviews with psuedo experts (because of course the real experts are a tad busy doing actual science right now) speculating on when we will be allowed out again. This question is not just around when we will be allowed to go to the pub or to parties with friends. This is also about people being allowed to return to work. Many people are unemployed right now because so many businesses were forced to close. Our government seems to have created a money pit somewhere judging by the number of programs that have been announced, to give financial support to newly unemployed, businesses affected, people who can’t pay loans, the list goes on and on.

In the background of this is school closures. Australian schools close for two weeks around Easter so in the last month schools have been inactive as they would normally. About five weeks ago (two weeks before holidays started) when cases were on the rise, we were seeing horrific images from Italy and the UK there was a lot of panic and discussion about the safety of schools. I work in a high school. It is impossible to socially distance teenagers in the classroom and the playground. I don’t even want to consider how difficult it would be in a primary school. Public opinion was that schools are breeding grounds to spread disease. A lot of the time they are. First year teachers will tell you they get sicker in that first year of being in front of kids than they ever have in their life. Why? About half of it is probably because stress has weakened their immune system but the other half is because kids are festy. (For those of you unfamiliar with this term Urban dictionary comes to the rescue!)

So parents started taking their kids out of school. As the numbers of students at school dwindled other students begged to be allowed to stay home sensing the opportunity to extend their impending holidays. Then, bowing to union and public pressure our state government caved and closed schools. There was a week of frantic preparation for online delivery and two weeks of time which was designated as holiday time. I don’t think there is a teacher alive who didn’t spend at least half of that time in front of a computer struggling with unfamiliar technology trying to put together meaningful learning experiences. The image featured above is of a doodle I did during this time to remind myself that my life is much better than many others.

The week just passed has been the first official week of “remote learning”. For different schools this looks different. For my niece and nephews it is hard. They don’t live close to a major city, their internet in a word is shit!. Remote delivery of lessons for them is problematic. For many schools Microsoft One Note was the go to. In the words of our school IT manager “One Note needs about two weeks in iso!” It failed and caused much hair pulling and frustration.

For the students, their anticipated extended holiday turned out to be a failure. No trips to the beach, camping cancelled, no shopping centers open, nothing to do except sit at home with video games and social media. The first week of remote learning was frustrating for many, and while it was a break from routine it wasn’t a substitute for interaction with actual humans.

In my own little corner of the world we are relatively blessed. We have an IT manager who deserves a sainthood. We have parents who have stepped up in their support and positivity. There have been social media posts about us. Flowers, chocolates and cakes delivered to school for us. It has been nothing short of empowering. But it has been hard. We are meeting online with our students, via Microsoft Teams for every one of their scheduled lessons. We are planning classes and material as if we are in our regular timetable but instead of delivering the way we normally would we are delivering online. It requires a HUGE amount of planning. Simple tasks like marking a roll would normally take five minutes are now taking 10 – 15 minutes.

Now the talk has turned to students returning to school. Our federal government has indicated that all of their information shows regular school is safe for most healthy children. These children will not pose a risk to their teachers. With exceptions of course. Older teachers and those with health conditions need to be cautious and removed. Despite this there are some political undercurrents that do not bode well. Unions are flexing their muscle; and our union funded state government, that controls schooling, is at odds with the federal government who sits on the other side of the political fence. As is often the case with education, teachers and students are at the mercy of decisions made by people who have no vested interest in benefiting either party.

The original date for return to regular classes was May 20. Five weeks into the term. One week of this type of schooling has felt like about five for most of us. If there was an announcement that regular school was starting back up on Monday (two days from now) there would be very few teachers that I know who would be unhappy about it. Sadly I don’t think this will be the case.

For those of you reading this and living in other, more affected parts of the world, my thoughts are with you, stay safe and take care of your wellbeing. Most importantly take care of your mental health.

This post is part of Food 4 Thought #146 “Lockdown”. Please make the time to head over and read some other posts. 


TMI Tuesday: I am late so spank me!

1. Do you like pain?

I am not a masochist but some experiences with different people have made me realise that I get turned on by inflicting pain. At the request of the recipient of course.

The exception to this is a good spank while getting fucked doggy style.

2. Would you say you have a high or low tolerance for pain?

I have delivered two babies with no pain relief. They were not small babies. I have also been known to have dental treatment with minimal pain relief. So I would say my tolerance is fairly high

3. True or false: I like to receive pain during sex.

In certain situations with certain people.

4. Finish the sentence: I like inflicting pain during sex because . . .

Mostly because it is what the recipient likes and has requested. If that criteria is satisfied then I get a massive rush from the power. It is intense holding someone’s pleasure and pain experience in your hands, or teeth. It is sometimes more intimate than actual penis in vagina sex. JB and also used to enjoy the marks I left on him as they appeared in the days following our encounters.

5. What’s your preference? Why? (You must pick one)

a. Wearing nipple clamps for 8 hours

b. Receiving 20 minute spanking session using hands and paddle

c. Getting your your cock & balls smacked (only those who have testicles can pick this)

d. Heavy flogging

Ok so as I said. Not really into receiving but if I HAVE to choose I would choose b. Spanking is my go to.

Bonus: What is the best thing that a woman can do to you in bed?

I would regard myself as pansexual. I have enjoyed and been enjoyed by women. But if there is a cock around that needs attention…..

My experiences with women in bed have been mixed. Some very very good and some that are best forgotten. At this point in my life my best response would be; share her husband.

This post is part of TMI Tuesday. For more TMI goodness check out the blog here

I would recommend posts by Mr A

And The Pink Seam


Locked in her house. Unable to leave. A prisoner of a virus. Something so small and so primitive that some scientists argued it wasn’t even a life form. It didn’t matter what the scientists said. She was here, he was there. All she had was the memory of the last time they were together.

Memories of him spreading her legs open so that he could bury his face in her cunt. He used his tongue to tease her swelling clit building the tension in her. She held back as much as she could. For a moment they wrestled wills. He could feel her clamping muscles, holding back her orgasm and the juice he craved. She relished the power of holding back the thing he most desired. But she also desired that release. For long moments they wrestled before he pushed and she gave in. Juice sprayed over his face and he drank it greedily. His hands cupped her ass pushing her close to his face so that he didn’t miss any.

Lying in bed with sheets twisted around her body she put her hand on her warm mound as she remembered his tongue there. Slowly she moved her fingers over her labia teasing herself.

He stood in front of her as she sat on the edge of the bed. His long hard cock was in front of her face. A drop of pre-cum glistened at the tip. Gripping himself he rubbed himself over her neck and down her breasts. She held her breasts together as he fucked her cleavage. The tip of his cock was so tempting. She wanted him in her mouth. 

In the darkness of her bedroom, isolated from the world her fingers strayed inside her slit to discover the wetness building there. She traced the familiar folds teasing herself, exploring deeper down to dip inside her opening. Her fingers knew all of the places she liked.

His cock filled her. She sat astride him looking down at his face, watching his expression.

It is your cock.” he insisted. “How does it feel inside you?”

She moved her hips slightly. Enjoying the feel of him moving inside her. He touched her deep inside. Somewhere her fingers could never reach. A shudder went though her body.

Tell me!” 

I am cumming,” she could hardly form words. His hands gripped her hips as she moved herself. Fluid squirted out of her covering his stomach and her thighs. Their bodies made wet noises as he thrust into her. She could feel his cock harden in response to her. It triggered another shudder, another jet of liquid. 

In the darkness of her bedroom her fingers worked in and about of her dripping wet cunt. But it wasn’t enough. She needed more. In the darkness she fumbled in the drawer of her bedside table. She found what she was looking for and slid the cold smoothness of her dildo inside her. Her fingers worked over her swelling clit. Her mind wandered.

She was bent over a chair. Her legs spread, waiting for him his hands stroked her ass.

“You have the most beautiful bum,” his voice broke the silence of the room.

She arched backwards to him, pressing her ass against his hips. His hard cock was hard and warm against her thighs and butt.

“Tell me how much you want it,” his voice was hot in her ear.

“Please,” she ached to feel him filling her.

“You want your cock?” He held the tip of his cock at her opening. Teasing her. She felt his hands grip her her hips tighter. She knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him. His cock slipped into her slowly. He held her tightly preventing her from pushing her against him. Slowly he filled her, stretching her open. She sighed in pleasure. When he was fully inside her he stopped. Holding her tightly.

“Tell me how much you want your cock,”

She couldn’t speak. He moved slightly. It triggered something inside her.

“I’m cumming,” she spoke through gritted teeth.

He responded, his cock hardened and he thrust into her. His hand slapped her ass. The room filled with her cries. Liquid jetted out of her cunt and splashed on the floor.

“I can’t stop cumming!”

In the darkness, alone the smooth glass shaft buried into her the fingers worked over her clit, drawing out the orgasm she craved. A short sharp cry penetrated the darkness. The glass shaft slid out of her and rested on her thigh. She lay quietly enjoying the afterglow. It took the edge off her ache, for a short while.

But it wasn’t enough.

This post is part of Wicked Wednesday prompt #412 Lockdown. If you enjoyed this then make sure you head to Wicked Wednesday and read some more delicious entries.

Thirty Truths #1

I found this meme on Sweet n Dirty’s blog. It was something I had seen before and wanted to complete but never did. I took the reminder as a sign to get off my ass and do something about it. For convenience I have created a page listing each topic and will link all of the posts relating to it there.  

Number one on the list is something you hate about yourself. 

The thing I hate most about myself is my body. For some of you reading this it may seem to contradict some of the things you have read that I wrote and possibly that I have said either in person or online.

Truth is I am like many people, hungry for approval, hungry to be liked and desired. Like a lot of people I also have a deep conviction that I am not good enough. It kind of reminds me of the Kasey Chambers song “Am I Not Pretty Enough?”

So in this world of perfectly attractive people, even the token ugly ones on dating shows, I worry that my stomach is not flat enough, that my thighs are too big and that I don’t look like a 30 year old fitness model.

Yes I take my clothes off in certain safe environments that could be regarded as public. Yes men (and women) tell me often that I am attractive, that I have an amazing butt, my boobs are beautiful and sometimes I agree with them. At least enough to keep displaying myself but sometimes the doubt comes back. It is hard to eradicate.

Recently I have been interacting with a man who disagrees very strongly with this idea. And I really appreciate his appreciation of my body. It makes me feel amazing to be in his presence and hear his words. I just have to keep reminding myself when he isn’t there.

Food 4 Thought – Hopes and Dreams

Hopes and drea,s


I added my post to Food 4 Thought for the first time last week and I was so happy to be chosen by Floss for the Spotlight post. When I read the prompt for this week I was not sure if I would be able to contribute but below are my rambling thoughts.  

As I write this I am on the eve of starting online delivery of high school classes. It is something that I, along with many teachers, have worried about, spent copious amounts of time trying to prepare for and probably a similar amount of time debating about the political reasons for being thrust into this very uncomfortable space. Something many people don’t realize is that, in Australia at least, becoming qualified to be a teacher takes four years of university study. During those four years all of our training is based around being in front of our students. Suddenly in the space of a few weeks we have been asked to turn that upside down and implement this new way of delivery. Yes some of the principles are the same but for many of us, myself included, technology is unfamiliar and frightening. Yet here we are being forced to use some fairly new tech in ways that it probably wasn’t really designed to be used.

Consider also that most teachers, the good ones especially, don’t choose to teach because they are full of knowledge that they feel compelled to impart to the world. We teach because we love kids. We want to nurture a young person and facilitate their growth into the best version of themselves. In the process of making that happen we form relationships and genuine, deep attachments to our students. To be suddenly forced to only see and interact with them through a screen cuts our souls.

So on this eve of remote learning my hopes are that I can still do my job well. That I don’t lose those little sheep that sit quietly in class confused and unsure of how to ask for help. The ones that really can only be helped when someone sits with them and says “Let’s do this together” while the rest of the class gets on with it. They are the ones that will suffer because if you ask them directly they will say they are OK. Only when you sit and talk with them do you see that they aren’t. How does remote learning work for them?

My dreams are similar. My youngest child is in her final year of high school. For her this is supposed to be the year of last sporting carnivals, reflective retreats, formals (prom) and savoring time with friends among the chaos that is assessment and final exams. Much of this will be taken away from her, and many others. It is not as dramatic as losing your parent to Covid-19 and not being able to be there as they take their last breath. But it is sad nonetheless.

I have spent seventeen years raising a unicorn. I dream that this setback will not stop her from being as fabulous as she has the potential to be.

This post is part of Food 4 Thought Friday. You can read other posts by clicking on the image below.


USB Flashback – Down by the River

A while ago on a spring cleaning spree I found a USB dating back to the days of “Erotic Adventures”. I am not sure if I published all of the things I found on there but I think that some of them are worth dusting off and sharing again. This little gem is a story about a date night Jake and I enjoyed along the South Bank of the Brisbane River. 

kangaroo point cliffs

A balmy spring breeze twisted around us as we strolled along the riverside pathway. On one side of us the river wound its way through the centre of the city towards the ocean on the other side, on our other side steep cliffs swept upwards to expensive houses perched high above the water. Despite it being a “school night” we shared our pathway with many different people joggers and cyclists made their way through their evening fitness regimes, families on holiday strolled along enjoying the lights of the city and the famous cliffs lit by huge spotlights placed strategically at the base, other people used the pathway to get from one place to the other on unknown errands.

Every now and then there was a break in the traffic and we felt as if we had the path to ourselves. We strolled along not really worrying about how late it was getting or that we had to go to work the next day. We had escaped the responsibilities of parenting to share an intimate dinner and be reminded of the way it was when they were dating. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other as we walked, every now and then the breeze made its way underneath my dress to caress my freshly shaved pussy and remind me of the secret nudity I was hiding there. Jake’s hand wandered down over my naked ass squeezing me through the fabric of my dress.

When there was an opportunity he pulled me off the path to lean me against the railing on the side of the path. His body pressed against mine as he kissed me deeply, sliding his hands up my thighs to caress my freshly shaven mound that was hidden there. I gasped into his mouth as he slid his finger into my wet slit teasing me before the sound of people approaching made him remove his hand and straighten himself up. Two men jogged past giving me a knowing look as I straightened my dress but I didn’t care. I had more arousing things on my mind.

We continued our walk but now my mind was on things other than enjoying the sights and sounds of the evening. I began scanning ahead, looking for a nook that would give us some more privacy. I hoped, in vain, that as we moved further away from the CBD the stream of people passing by would decrease. Annoyingly it didn’t. There were fewer mothers and fathers with their children but the joggers and cyclists persisted. Who exercised at this time of the night? Didn’t they have other things to do? At home?

Then I saw what I had been looking for. A wide boardwalk surrounding a Moreton Bay Fig jutted out over the water forming a low lookout. The wide trunk and buttress roots of the majestic tree shielded the seating underneath from the passers-by.  I led Jake towards the partially secluded area, pushing him down on the bench seat, making sure to take the maximum advantage of the wide gnarled trunk of the tree. I straddled his lap as he sat on the bench. My legs spread wide over his and my chest pressing against his face as I bent to kiss his neck. His arms slipped around me reaching down with his hands to cup my round buttocks allowing the warm evening breeze to caress the bare skin of my ass as he stoked me.

For a moment I looked up, over his shoulder, trying to determine how much people passing by could see. None of them paid any notice to us snuggling under the tree. I sat back a little, lifting my dress to allow Jake access to my wet hungry slit. His fingers slid down over my freshly shaved skin to stroke my swelling clit. I gasped against the side of his neck as he slipped his finger through my wet folds to slip into me. I forgot about the passers-by on the path as he fucked me slowly with two of his fingers. My hands pressed against the seam of his jeans, stroking the hard cock underneath. When the trickle of people stopped for a few moments I stood up to allow him to unbutton his jeans. Carefully I eased his hard warm cock out of its prison before I resumed my seat with my hand wrapped around his cock. He slipped his fingers back inside me.

The pleasure of Jake’s fingers was intense but I ached for more. I wanted to be filled by his hard, warm, cock. My hand moving up and down his shaft only increased my need. When I couldn’t hold back any more I raised my body slightly and moved forward until I was positioned above his cock. For a moment I held myself there with the tip of his cock resting against my opening. His hands gripped my hips, trying to push me down onto him. Our eyes were locked together as I resisted, fighting my own desire to feel his cock filling me to feel the pleasure of denying him what he wanted so much. Then slowly I slid myself down onto him. Bit by bit he slid into me, pushing apart the walls of my pussy, filling me up until I was sitting on his lap again this time with his cock buried deep inside me.

Slowly, with his hands guiding me I rocked back and forth, tilting my hips to get the maximum pleasure for both of us. The intimacy of the evening combined with the thrill of our location lifting the feeling to a whole new level. For several weeks we had not been able to fuck. Sitting here now with him inside me was like fucking him for the first time. His cock felt new and familiar at the same time, I was insanely horny. My hand reached down to touch my clitoris which was swollen and hard. Within a few strokes I could feel the orgasm building. Jake’s breathing was jagged, his hands gripped my hips hard. I ground against him faster and faster. I completely forgot about anything except the feeling of his cock inside me.

“Come with me,” I whispered to him as I felt myself sliding over the edge.

He grunted softly as his cock pulsed inside me. I held him close, breathing heavily enjoying the afterglow. Slowly I came back to reality. The sounds of the city drifted across the river to my ears, the tinkle of a bicycle bell alerted me to a cyclist passing. I looked up at the pathway behind the tree. Oblivious to our fucking joggers and cyclists trundled past without even giving a second thought to us. The only witness was the aged tree that shaded us. I am sure he had seen it a hundred times before.

moreton bay fig