Forbidden

I haven’t posted in 4Thoughts or Fiction for a while. I lost a bit of focus as I meandered around my blogging. But through a few clicks while reading TMI Tuesday this week I stumbled across it again. The prompt is “Stockings” and, incidentally, I have been reading some of the contributions as they pop up in my reader. I am a fan of A Man Called Alice. His shoe and lingerie collection is something I wish I could match. While reading the prompt (and maybe perusing some images) this little gem popped into my head.

On the bed a pair of stockings lay, stretched out, sheer black with a shimmer. Against the white sheets they seemed somehow deflated. When he touched them, he could still feel the warmth from her body, but it was fading fast. Fleeting images filled his mind. Her legs encased in the silky sheer fabric. Walking in stilettos down the street. Sitting in her office chair with her ankles crossed. Bending over the filing cabinet teasing anyone watching with the possibility of seeing her knickers.

He lifted them up to his nose, he could still smell her on them. A hint of her perfume, a hint of her musk. The delicate fabric snagged on his stubble as he slid them down towards his chest. Slowly he traced his nipples, shivering at the caress of the fabric causing them to stiffen.  Down towards his aching cock the fabric travelled, raising gooseflesh over his body. The sound of his breath filled his ears as he was lost completely in the sensation.

For a moment he stroked his cock, but he wasn’t ready for that. Today he wanted something else, something forbidden. Looking over his shoulder to make sure he was alone, he sat on the bed, he knew he didn’t have much time before she was back. He slid his feet into the silky fabric stretching the hose out further, filling it with his legs, giving it another life. His cock prodded against his belly as he bent to smooth the stockings against his legs. The bathroom door clicked. His heart raced, he stood at the end of the bed, facing away from the bathroom door. Time seemed to stop as he stood there, waiting, unsure.

He could sense her behind him, although he didn’t hear her approach. She smelled clean and fresh from her shower. The familiar smell of her shampoo filled his nostrils, the heat of her breath on his neck caused the hairs to rise. She was so close to him but still she hadn’t touched him. For a moment he was afraid he would be banished to sleep on the couch, naked, alone and cold.

“Bend over,” There was no hint of emotion in her voice.

He obeyed. His torso rested on the cool, white sheets. His naked arse presented to her, his legs encased in her stockings, spread slightly, exposing his balls. His cock pressed against the bed, harder than ever.

As much as he anticipated it, the first sting of her hand was always so much more. He grunted in pain but knew better than to move.

“What are the rules about wearing my clothes?”

“Not without your permission?” His words were muffled by the duvet.

“Yes,” her words were like a whip, her hand stung his naked butt cheeks.  “Did I give you permission?”

“No.” He braced himself, waiting for more slaps.

But none came. There was a silence as he waited. He heard her moving around the room. A drawer opened. For a moment he wondered if it was THE drawer. But it didn’t seem to be the right sound.

“Stand up,” her voice was still flat and emotionless but as he stood up, he could see the fire in her eyes. He knew that if he put his hands between her thighs, he would feel heat and wetness. He ached for her to sit on the edge of the bed and spread those beautiful thighs. He felt parched and he ached for the command to quench his thirst with her juice.

She indicated some clothing on the bed. Satin underwear, the ones she had been wearing all day. Trousers, his, and a shirt, also his. “We are meeting the Wilsons at George’s Paragon at seven.” Disappointment stabbed through him. Her colleagues, stupid boring people, stupid boring dinner. “I want you to wear that,” she pointed at the clothing on the bed. “And keep my stockings on.”

Obediently he dressed. The smell of her cunt filled his nose as he smoothed the satin over his swollen cock. The trousers slid and gripped his thighs oddly over the satiny tights. His cock was still swollen making the zipper almost impossible to close. She smiled, watching him fumble with the closure.

“If only Tyler Wilson was here now,” she mused. “It would be so hot to watch him suck that cock.”

You can read other prompts featuring stockings at 4Thoughts or Fiction click here or on the image below.

TMI Tuesday – Randomness

1.What is the dumbest thing you are reading and writing right now?

Social media of course!!!. In particular a post from a friend, who I thought was intelligent, about a fashion show for ducks.

I am sorry but this seems to be something that needs to be said repeatedly.

CLOTHES ARE FOR PEOPLE!!!. If your dog looks happy to be wearing the new outfit you bought him it is because dogs are pathologically geared to make their owners happy. If you are happy because of something they did their world is complete. Did anyone ever see a cat that was happy about being dressed up? No. That is because cats are smarter!

2.If you were to start your own country who would sing the national anthem?

Ultimately I would like Freddy Mercury to write my national anthem because Queen wrote such amazing anthems. But I guess I would have to settle for Adam Lambert.

3. If your were to be eaten by an animal of your choice (and you will die), what animal will eat you? Why?

There is a video kicking around the internet featuring Steve Irwin on “Late Night With Conan O’Brien” telling a story of a close call with a reticulated python which is about 20ft long. The story kicks in around 3:40 but watching someone so quintessentially Australian and completely natural with a prim proper American talk show host is freaking hilarious!

So me? Well it seems I spend a bit of time poking around with snakes. Mainly because they want to eat my pets. Not that any of those would be able to eat me but maybe one day I will stumble across one of these big things.

Honestly I think it wouldn’t be a bad way to go. Pythons do give you a big hug and make sure you are dead before they eat you so it wouldn’t be that bad. Plus, snakes are cool.

4. What word makes you smile?

Sixty – Nine. Childish I know but I work with teenagers. What can I say?

5. What word makes you cringe

I stopped in the middle of writing this post because this one stumped me. Many ideas make me cringe but the mere mention of the word making me cringe? I have to say ‘moist’. Again, I work with teenagers. A few years ago this word was like any other. Then I had a special student in my year 8 Science class and I had to teach this particular class about human reproduction…..

Bonus: Will you board the love train?

So I had to Google this because I didn’t realise it was an actual song! The song is not exactly my type of thing which is probably why I have never heard it. Weirdly when I read the question a Seekers song called Morningtown ride popped into my head. Same era (maybe a little bit earlier judging by the pants the O’Jays wore!!) but completely different sentiments. Still can’t go past Judith Durham’s vocals though.

So which train will I be on? Really hard to say. Getting loved up with people all around the world isn’t my cup of tea, although I do appreciate the need for us to be kinder to each other. Hopping in to bed to spend the night dreaming away is very tempting some days but not as much as it was when I was the mother of toddlers!

I think I will just need to make my own train, fill it with sexy people and spend the journey getting to know each other.

This post is part of TMI Tuesday for December 29. If you enjoyed it please make sure you click here or on the image below for more TMI goodness.

2020 The Year of Corona

Many times during this year I have felt as if I were watching this pandemic from afar. The number of cases in my country are many times smaller than even the death tolls in a lot of countries around the world. The numbers of cases are so small here that the media goes into a frenzy if a cluster reaches double digits.

During May we did have lockdowns and restrictions but honestly, compared to case numbers in the Northern Hemisphere I wonder if they were necessary. The five or so weeks we spent online schooling was seems completely unnecessary when looking back.

Or were they?

Are our low numbers because we were so extreme so early? Or are they simply a result of our isolation? Could we have achieved the same results by simply closing our boarders and not letting anyone else in? We will never know.

Effects of Corona aside, something that did happen this year for Mr. Jones and myself was a reconnection with the swinging community. This was, ironically, an indirect result of Corona virus. We attended a weekend for swinging couples back in September and consequently found ourselves thrust into the whirlwind social life that is the swinging lifestyle. You can read some of my thoughts about this turn of events here.

We had drifted away from this ‘scene’ for a few reasons, my job as a teacher, my mental health, some bad experiences with couples and just the general meanderings of life. Swingers are, for the most part, very social beings. We get excited about meeting people who think like us and the bonus is every now and then we get to be sexy which is a whole lot of fun. Now that we seem to have connected with an extreme example of the socialising side of things our lives look very different.

I started 2020 with a determination to be more social. I had resolved to attend Work Social Club events and generally put my face into as many social things as I could. A look at my calendar showed me that I definitely needed to get out more and I knew, on a very visceral level that I definitely needed to people my world with some supportive people.

Then Corona happened. Ironic really. Not being allowed to visit with friends I didn’t have didn’t affect me that much. But I did kind of feel a bit weird to not be allowed to socialise in the year I had resolved to do so.

I have never been good at making and keeping friends. During primary school I was homeschooled and lived in a relatively isolated situation. The only regular playmates I had were my younger brothers. The school playground lessons in making friends and understanding social cues were unavailable to me. Entering high school saw a complete 180 degree turn, I went from rarely seeing girls my own age to living with about seventy of them 24/7! It wasn’t easy. So being thrust back into a social whirlwind is hard. I want to have close friends but somehow I just never seem to say the right thing and I end up withdrawing. 

Dealing with a lot of people in a large group is stressful. One of our ‘new’ friends talks a lot about a trip of a lifetime she enjoyed with her husband. They toured Europe and visited a lot of very crowded places which she absolutely loved! I personally couldn’t think of anything worse! Give me a beach or some remote place, no more than ten people and a campfire with some quiet conversation and I am happy. 

So what does 2021 bring for social Gemma? We are continuing to ease ourselves back into swinging and partying. I will no doubt find myself in any number of difficult situations, dealing with new people and having to make small talk courtesy of my new friend. I will have a good time most of the time, I am sure. I am also sure that my liver will take a beating. 

The other big thing on our horizon is our six month sailing adventure. Sailors are like swingers. Well, actually I think some of them ARE swingers. Time will tell. Whatever their sexual orientation, they are also very social and tend to drink a lot. My liver is going to age, a lot. 

So here’s to socialising, making friends and hopefully restoring my tribe.  

This post is part of this week’s Wicked Wednesday #448 Looking Back on 2020. To see who else is being wicked click here or on the image below.

Christmas – A Time for Reflection

Christmas in Australia is confusing. As a child I could never understand the incessant references to snow, being cold and all of the things that most people living in the Northern Hemisphere associate with Christmas. In Australia Christmas falls just after the longest day of the year. It is hot. Melt the bitumen, spend the day under the air conditioner hot. Unless you live in Tasmania where it has been known to snow at Christmas, but what Australians count as snow would be what Canadians call dew.

Christmas decorations make no sense in Australia. Poinsettias flower in June, holly is not grown anywhere. We have any number of other prickly plants, why would we want to introduce another? Pine trees do grow here but in Queensland at least they are tall and spindly; not the type that you see in the American movies. Besides, the significance of the tree that stays green through the winter is lost. Most Australian native plants are evergreen. Christmas lights have become a thing in recent years but as a child it was another thing that didn’t make sense. It doesn’t get fully dark until around seven-thirty, much later in the southern states.

As an adult I was able to understand the significance of these traditions and I was able to understand that our colonial ancestors kept Christmas traditions in an attempt to make themselves feel at home. I understand that these days it is about keeping up with everyone else in the world. Australians seem to struggle with being different and proud of it, many of us just want to be like the Americans we see on our televisions.

And so we celebrate Christmas. For me as a child Christmas has strong connections with the Christian feast commemorating the birth of Christ. For me as an adult that significance remains. We have a nativity scene on display in our house we attend mass. The Unicorn attends under duress because she is a self proclaimed Satanist. I don’t want to have that discussion with her grandmother so we have agreed she will go and not discuss it.

For the most part large family gatherings are not a part of our Christmas landscape. Distance has been the predominant reason for this. My parents live a six hour drive away. For many years one of my brothers has lived even further. My other brother wants as little to do with his siblings and mother as possible and so spends as short an amount of time at Christmas gatherings as he can. My children were the only grandchildren on my side of the family until The Unicorn was about five and her brother was eight. On Mr. Jones’ side of the family they were younger than their cousins by a similar gap so hanging out in the pool or bashing around the paddock with their cousins was not something they got to do.

Today we will be packing Christmas into the back of the ute and driving six hours to Grandma’s house to spend several days practicing being patient and dealing with heat and guilt trips while Christmas goes past for another year. It isn’t something I am looking forward to. I would rather be on the yacht if I am honest but Christmas is not about being selfish. It is about being kind and making sure your family is OK.

We have entered a time in our lives where our children are able to care for themselves but now our parents are ageing. Mr. Jones’s parents live with us and they will be spending Christmas with his sister and her family. In all honesty they would probably rather be at home with us than in a strange house with six rowdy great-grandchildren. His mother has a health condition that is not serious but does require constant monitoring. It also means that her life can be threatened by the common cold. It is hard watching a parent deteriorate.

My own parents live in a very small rural community with limited health facilities. Any health emergency results in a trip in either a helicopter or small aerial ambulance to the nearest large hospital. Located in a town not anywhere near where myself or any of my brothers live. They are in their seventies and my father insists on working his farm as he has done his whole life. Their living situation is not sustainable but at the moment no-one wants to make a plan.

So in short my family is not really OK. There isn’t a lot I can do to make it OK. I would dearly love to pack my parents up and move them somewhere closer to me, as painful as that process would be. It would certainly make my life much simpler, and possibly theirs. But it isn’t happening any time soon, if ever.

I read Marie’s Christmas post and found myself nodding as she described a preference for spending time with those closest to her in small, intimate gatherings. I feel that is the direction my Christmas will take as time goes by. I will always have a tree in my house. I will always have a nativity. I will always have ham but it will never be baked, who has time for that and it is freaking summer here! I will always buy some gifts for my immediate family and I hope I will be able to participate in crazy Christmas antics in the school staffroom for several more years.

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My Secret Santa got me this little guy who is super cute

My Secret Santa also gave me these cute covers for my nipples that actually fit!!

Thank you for joining me on my early morning Christmas eve ramble. I hope that you all enjoy your Christmases, whatever they look like. If surviving is your goal for this time then I empathize and wish you luck.

TMI Tuesday – Time to be Happy

1. What is your best excuse to get out of an invitation?

I really hate it when people cancel on you because they get a better offer. So I always try to honor any commitment I make even if something better does come along. If I get invited to something I don’t want to go to I tend to be non-committal until crunch time happens. Not the most up front way of dealing with it but it has been working for me so far.

2. When was the last time you ended a relationship of any kind? What was the nature of the relationship?

I posted recently about my relationship with Johnny coming to an end. I am not sure if this counts as an answer to this question as I didn’t end the relationship myself.

Currently I am in a weird situation with a couple who Mr Jones and I had been friends with for quite a few years. Of late things have not been as easy between us and we have grown apart. This wouldn’t be much of an issue except it turns out that we have a lot of friends in common. I really don’t like confrontation and I guess I am not entirely happy with how things have turned out between us but the next time we run into each other at a social event things could be interesting.

3. Tell us about a phone call or email that you needed to make but were apprehensive to do? Did you ever make the call or send the email?

I often feel that way before I call my mother. Mostly it doesn’t turn out that badly but sometimes it doesn’t go well. She has Post Doctoral qualifications in being negative, putting you on a guilt trip for no reason and generally alienating people so you can imagine how conversations with her can go some days.

4. Tell us one or two things you do daily as self care.

Most days my morning routine involves tea and a scroll through my WordPress Reader followed by tinkering on a blog post. I have started this routine recently, I used to try and get up and do some form of exercise, on the days I couldn’t get motivated I would make myself feel guilty. This new routine is much better for my mental health, I just have to figure out my exercise routine but it will happen.

5. What are you looking forward to in the holiday season of the coming New Year?

Spending as much time as possible aboard this baby.

So that I can see more things like this

Bonus: In what situations do you wish you could throw down a smoke bomb and disappear?

Any time there is conflict. I really can’t handle it. If there is any kind of tension between people I am around or between myself and another person I just want to disappear.

This post is part of TMI Tuesday for 22 December. To see who else is sharing this week click here or on the image below.

Social Overload

Mr Jones and I have been “In the Lifestyle” for about ten years. Initially we started out exploring together and our rules, such as they were, stated that we played together and only with other couples.

Early in our journey we met a few couples who we went on to become good friends with some of the couples we met. We hung out with them as regular friends attending some family events, camping together and sharing meals etc. We did fall into a group or a couple of groups who held parties regularly and we attended some parties that were like the fantasy stories that people read about.

Over time we became more relaxed about our ‘rules’ and our relationship evolved into the more Open Marriage that I described in last week’s TMI Tuesday post. Other changes in our lives including me beginning my Teaching career and a decline in my mental health has meant that we grew away from the traditional swinging lifestlye. We pursued our own partners or visited clubs to pick up people for sex. Sometimes we interacted with couples but the interaction was limited and often frustrating as it is difficult to find a couple where all four members are happy and comfortable with each other.

Last year I was included by a long term friend in a group that organises weekends away for like minded people. I decided it might be fun to dip our toes in that water again so I signed Mr Jones and myself up for a weekend at a large holiday house with four or five other couples.

In terms of fucking the weekend was relatively tame. In terms of getting naked or semi-naked, making innuendoes and playing sexy games we were fairly out there. In terms of drinking, it was next level.

The wash up from the weekend is that Mr Jones and I have found ourselves back on the social merry-go-round of the South East Queensland swing scene. One of the royal couples of this scene has taken us into their ‘bubble’ and we now find ourselves drinking and socialising much more than we have in quite a long time. It has been a journey and an awakening. It is exhausting.

I have been diagnosed with garden variety depression and been medicated for this for quite some time. I believe that it is mostly hormonal and a result of menopause, or so I thought. I have always avoided the idea that I had anxiety but I definitely find interacting with large groups of unfamiliar people difficult and very, very tiring. Add that to forcing my body to digest significant amounts of alcohol more regularly than I have in about twenty years and I am feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Last night we attended a birthday party for one of our new friends. It was fun, they had employed a fantastic musician and we met some nice people. But during the course of the evening there was discussion about upcoming events following Christmas and New Year. The birthday girl announced that she had no free weekends until 21 Feb!!!! My brain hurts thinking about that much socialising.

Of course they are encouraging us to come along to some of those events but we find ourselves hesitating. We are enjoying the new set of friends. We are having fun but such a radical change in such a short amount of time is hard to deal with. I need some time to adjust. I also think we are not going to be the people who are at everything. I just don’t think I can cope with dealing with that many people so regularly.

And so over the next month we are going to be adjusting and evaluating. Hopefully we will be able to strike a balance that works for everyone.

Flashback – In the Booth

Normally I post these stories from my older previous page on Friday but somehow this week got away from me.

“We are going to get some lunch, you want to come?” Jenna paused beside Megan’s desk.

Megan glanced up briefly from her screen, “No thanks,” she replied. “I still have a bit more to do on this and I have some errands to run.”

Jenna shrugged, “Suit yourself.” She walked away to meet up with her friends standing by the elevator. Megan kept to herself pretty much, not really interacting with the other girls in the office but it didn’t stop Jenna. She was a compulsive socialite and so she took up the challenge to get Megan into their group by inviting her to lunch and coffee every now and then. One day she might just forget herself and say yes.

Megan watched the little group leave the office, finishing the document she was working she made her own preparations to leave. She was aware of Jenna’s little ‘project’ but there was something else that compelled her more than sushi and gossip. Smoothing down the skirt of her suit she made her way to the elevator and then out onto the street. Two blocks away she turned into a doorway with ‘The Den’ blinking in neon above the doorway. With a quick glance over her shoulder Megan quickly stepped inside.

At the top of the stairs she handed a twenty dollar note to a ponytailed man sat behind the desk. “Hello Neil,” she smiled.  

“Hello Miss,” he responded, flashing his trademark gold tooth at her and not bothering to hide the way he ran his eyes down her body. Megan turned to push on the faded blue door, she was on a time limit and she had things to do. Once inside she paused for a moment letting her eyes adjust to the dimness. At the far end of the room in front of a large screen showing porn men sat on couches, mostly in singles, watching. If she walked closer Megan would see some of them fondling their cocks but she wasn’t interested in that. To the side two men sat together. For a moment Megan watched them. As she watched one man slid downwards, out of her view. The thought of a man wrapping his lips around another man’s cock took Megan’s breath away and reminded her of her errand.

Slowly she walked past the booths, each with their own individual screens, that lined the side of the room. In one of them a man sat alone watching two women frolicking naked in a pool together. He was dressed in jeans and an open necked shirt and sat like he was about to spring out of the door it something startled him. Desire spread through Megan, this was what she had come for.

“Hello” she moved into the doorway of the booth to look down into his face.

“Hello there,” he looked up at her nervously. His hands twisted in his lap.

Megan moved inside the booth, “Do you mind if I sit here?” She gestured at the seat beside the man.

“Sure,” he moved over to make room for her. “Do you come here often?” he asked as she sat gracefully beside him.

“Sometimes,” she smiled letting her eyes take in his body. She pressed her thighs together in anticipation. “You like the porn?” She gestured at the screen in front of them.

He shrugged, “It’s OK. You know. Porn is porn.”

She smiled in response, “True,” carefully she placed her hand on his thigh and leaned in a little closer. “How would you like something more real?” She moved her hand up his leg a little further until her finger was touching his penis through the denim of his jeans.

“What did you have in mind?” his voice wavered and she felt tension coiling through his body.

Megan placed the palm of her hand over his crotch and pressed gently on his swelling cock. “I am very good at sucking cock,” her eyes didn’t leave his face as her hand massaged his cock.

The man slid down in his seat a little to ease the tightness in his jeans. “OK.” his eyes were glued to her cleavage.

Megan slid off her seat to kneel in front of him. Her gaze shifted from his face to his crotch which was now right in front of her face. With a little help from her new friend she slid his zipper down and eased his cock out of it’s bondage. For a few moments she admired it sitting proud and erect before her. She pressed her lips against the warm velvet of the skin, running them up his shaft before she licked the tip of his cock. The man sighed in appreciation and she felt some of the tension leave his body as she opened her mouth and slid her lips down over his cock. She fought an overwhelming urge to press her mouth down over him as far as she could. Instead, she focussed on the head of his cock, circling him with her tongue, letting her saliva moisten him as she moved her head up and down slowly easing her mouth down the full length of his shaft.

He placed a tentative hand on the back of her head. She pushed her mouth down further until she could feel his cock in the back of her throat. Pleasure welled up in her. She loved this part, kneeling in front of a strange man with his cock rammed into her throat. Feeling the power she had over him by submitting to him in this way. She tilted her head so that she could see his face. His eyes were closed and his head was tilted back against the top of the couch, his fingers curled into her hair holding her head against his cock. He thrust his hips against her mouth and she tasted the salt tang of his pre-cum on her tongue. Greedily she sucked down on his cock craving the taste of him. He gave a groan of pleasure as his cock hardened further. She moved her head up and down sucking on him, anticipating his climax, craving the taste of him.

“I am gonna blow in your mouth,” he whispered to her urgently.

Without taking her lips from him, she nodded, giving him permission. There was no way she could communicate the craving she had right now to taste his cum, to feel it’s warmth filling her mouth. His fingers curled tighter into her hair and he thrust into her mouth harder and more urgently building up tension. Megan felt her own body responding to his pleasure, she knew her panties would be soaked and her clit was throbbing demanding attention for itself. There would be time for that later, right now she was focussed on the cock in her mouth.

“AHHHHH,” he groaned as his cock pulsed, emptying itself into her mouth. Megan held as much of his cum as she could before she swallowed. His hand fell away from her head and he collapsed against the back of the couch. Carefully she licked away the last drops of his pleasure before she released his cock from her mouth. Gently she slid his cock into his boxers before he zipped up his jeans. 

“Thank you,” he reached down and stroked her face before she stood in front of him. The demanding of her hungry cunt was stronger now. She needed to find a quiet space of her own away from the eyes that would watch her here.

“The pleasure was all mine, believe me,” She straightened her dress before she moved out of the booth. With purposeful strides she walked towards the exit, ignoring the men who tried to catch her eye as she passed. She recognised a few of them. On a different day she may have stopped to talk with them and perhaps share other things but right now her own desires were more important.

Out in the street she passed the lobby of a hotel. She stepped inside the doorway of the coffee shop and made her way to the counter.

“The usual?” the waitress behind the counter asked.

Megan smiled warmly, “Yes please,” she replied, taking money from her purse. “I will just use the bathroom.”

“Certainly,” the waitress began preparing her coffee. “I will take this out to your usual spot then.”

“Thank you,” Megan walked through a doorway into the foyer of the hotel. At the back she slipped into the ladies bathroom. Once inside the cubicle at the far end she opened her handbag. Nestled in its special bag was her good friend. She sat on the toilet and slid her panties down. The aroma of her arousal was strong. With urgency she slid the vibrator inside herself almost automatically pressing against her sensitive spots. Exhaling the tension out of her body she allowed the vibrations to work their magic. With her other hand she stroked her swollen clitoris. It was only seconds until the orgasm washed over her. Silently she spasmed in pleasure, holding on to the feeling as long as she could before releasing it and slumping back against the wall.

For a few moments she sat there savouring the warm relaxation allowing reality to make its way slowly back. Reaching into her handbag she retrieved a clean pair of knickers and replaced her sodden ones. She stowed her vibrator safely in its bag and stood up to straighten her clothes. Before she left the bathroom she checked her make up in the mirror and straightened her hair.

When she returned to the cafe her coffee was sitting on the table waiting for her. For the next ten minutes she sat, sipping as she looked out of the window at the city rushing past going about its business. It was the last part of her ritual. When the cup was empty she placed it carefully down on its saucer and made her way back to the office. 

Return to Summer

The prompt for this week’s Wicked Wednesday is Thunder. In Australia we are in the middle of storm season. The days are often humid and finish with a storm. When reading the prompt a classic song from an Australian pub band – GANGgajang came to my mind.

Out on the patio we’d sit

And the humidity we’d breathe

The sounds of GANGgajang wafted through the screen door to the verandah where Liz sat with her feet propped up on the railing. Cicadas buzzed all around them almost drowning out the song.

“I never realised how much I missed that sound,” Liz took a swig from her beer

“What, don’t they have GANGgajang in Pommie land?” Johnno plonked himself down on the chair beside her and cracked open a can of beer.

“The cicadas you doofus!” Liz slapped him on the arm. “You are such an idiot sometimes.”

“I’m an idiot?” Johnno turned to look at her. “You’re the one being all soppy about cicadas.”

“No, it’s just that London is so different from here.” Liz’s voice trailed away, as she stared out over the sugarcane that grew almost up to the bottom of the stairs. In the distance lightning flashed through storm clouds too far away for the sound of thunder to reach them

We’d watch the lightning crack over canefields

Laugh and think, this is Australia.

“Yeh, I can’t say I am wishing I went with you.” Johnno’s voice sounded reflective.

Liz turned and looked at him in the half-light that was spilling onto the veranda from the lounge room. His body was lean and muscular from long days working on and driving machinery. Her eyes moved down his arms to study his hands. Big, capable hands. So. Fucking. Sexy.

And in the distance, through the heat haze

In convoys of silence the cattle graze

“It is so FUCKING hot,” Liz stood up and pulled her dress over her head. She moved to the railing hoping for a finger of breeze to cool the sweat from her skin. “Three days ago, I couldn’t go outside without wearing at least four layers of clothing. Now I feel as if clothes are going to choke me!”

Johnno was silent. Looking at her over the rim of his beer can. The dim light from the lounge room illuminated the curve of her breast. Full, round breasts. So. Fucking. Sexy.

He stood up from his chair and moved to stand in front of her. Their eyes met and the tension grew. His fingers flexed but he hesitated. Did she want him after all her travels? How could she want a simple country boy like him after travelling the world?

Liz was transfixed by his hands. Her nipples hardened as if they were stretching towards the man standing just out of their reach. She ached to feel his body again but something stopped her from pulling him to her. Had he moved on? Had he forgotten?

He leaned down, hoping, afraid. She tilted her head longing, hands itching to feel the muscles of his chest and to cup that amazing arse.

The veranda door banged open,

“Hey Liz! I heard you were back! You picked the best time to come home. It is so fucking hot!” Johnno’s friend Toby appeared, beer in hand. There was an awkward silence and Liz reached for the dress she had discarded over the chair, Johnno stepped in front of her to block Toby’s view of her in her underwear.

“Hi Toby,” Liz’s voice was muffled by her dress as her arms flailed around trying to find their place.

“Was I interrupting something?” Toby tried to look around the tall solid body of his friend.

“No,” Johnno’s voice was firm as he took a step towards Toby.

“Really?” Toby’s eyebrows raised as he took in the flush on his friend’s face. “I am disappointed that you didn’t invite me.”

The block is awkward – it faces west,

With long diagonals, sloping too.

Finally, her dress was in place and Liz appeared.

“Hi Toby,” she stepped forward to hug him, “how have you been?”

“Oh you know, nothing ever changes around here.” He sat down on a chair and opened his beer. “You look amazing, by the way.” His eyes travelled over her body. She felt herself responding to those piercing blue eyes. So. Fucking. Sexy.

That certain texture, that certain beat,

Brings forth the night time heat.

Johnno stepped forward so that Liz could feel the heat from his body. She leaned back against his chest. Her eyes locked with Toby, challenging him. Johnno’s hands moved around to cup her breasts. His fingers pinched her nipples, sending a jolt through her. Without speaking Toby stood and moved until he was standing in front of her. Johnno’s strong arms held her close to his strong body as Toby pressed against her, kissing her deeply. He reached down and lifted the hem of her dress with one hand and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her knickers.

Liz whimpered as Toby’s fingers slid into her slick opening. She sagged weakly against Johnno’s strong frame. His fingers worked in and out of her, hooking to trigger her g-spot. She cried out in pleasure as a gush of liquid covered Toby’s hand.

“I think she likes that,” Johnno’s voice was hoarse.

“I think she does,” Toby pressed his hard cock against her thigh.

“I bet those Pommie guys don’t fuck like us.” Toby eased his cock out of his pants. Precum glistened in the dim light, “Do you think you will still recognise us?”

Liz reached for Toby’s cock but he grasped her wrist, stopping her, “That is cheating,” he smiled teasingly, “Let’s play the game the way we used to.”

“OK.” Johnno’s arms relaxed and Liz moved to the veranda rail. She leaned forward slightly wiggling her hips as Johnno slid her soaking knickers down over her knees. Free of her underwear Liz spread her legs slightly and bent further forward. The heady smell of her arousal filled the night ari.

That certain texture, that certain smell

Brings forth the heavy days

Brings for the night time sweat.

“Are you ready?” Johnno whispered in her ear.

She nodded, “Yes,” her voice was faint

Slowly a cock slid into her, opening her. When the shaft was as deep as it could get it stopped. A pair of hands gripped her hips. They stood that way for a few moments.

“Johnno?” Liz’s voice was hesitant

“Good girl, you remembered.” The hands gripped her hips and she was rewarded by several long deep strokes of his cock. Fingers stroked her clit, before sliding in next to the cock, stretching her a little further. A deep moan escaped her throat.

“Fuck!” she moaned as an orgasm ripped through her. Liquid gushed over the hand as she sagged weakly against the veranda rail. Johnno withdrew his cock and stepped aside.

“Do you want another?” Toby’s voice was hot in her ear.

“Yes!”

Toby slid himself into her. He was unable to stop himself from pumping hard. “Fuck you have the best pussy. I have missed this.” Sweat dripped from his forehead onto her back. The night air was filled with the sound of his hips slapping against Liz’s butt. Her moans of pleasure joined his grunt as he emptied himself into her. He held himself for a few moments breathing heavily before she pulled away from him.

“I hope that isn’t all you two have got,” her eyes challenged them both.

Johnno grinned, “You know us better than that,” “That is good, I wouldn’t want to have come all this way to be disappointed.” Liz turned and led the way into the house. Without a question both men followed.

To see who else is being wicked this week click on the image below.

TMI Tuesday – Should We?

This weeks TMI will involve a few terms that can be mis-interpreted or possibly unfamiliar. This article will give some background to these terms.

1. Agree or Disagree – If people want to have more than one spouse they should be allowed to do that.

In theory yes. There are many positives about a situation where there are multiple spouses. However in cultures where multiple spouses are allowed (usually a man with multiple spouses) the practice can be less than desirable. Often the result of the man rich enough to support multiple spouses exercising his rights can restrict the rights of other people in his community.

2. Do you believe in ethical non-monogamy?

Yes, obviously. That lifestyle choice is what spawned this whole blog.

3. Is polyamory something you want?

Sometimes I think yes. Other times I think no. Similar to my answer to question 1. the theory sounds good and there are examples of polyamory kicking around that show it is possible and sometimes an awesome way to live. The realities of polyamory can sometimes be quite different. If you think about the amount of effort that goes in to keeping one relationship running smoothly then think about how much effort will go into maintaining two or three intertwined relationships simultaneously. The effort does not increase evenly as each person is added, it expands exponentially.

Yes I am a Mathematics teacher. Graphs make a bunch of sense to me!

4. Do you wish that your ethical non-monogamy was a societal / cultural norm?

Yes. It would make my life much, much simpler. I do feel that there is a gradual shift towards acceptance of this kind of lifestyle but, like the acceptance of same sex marriage, the progress in infinitesimally slow. The internet has allowed people to read about and become educated about a lot of sub – cultures which is helping with this acceptance.

5. If you are in or have been in an open sexual relationship, what are the best bits?

The freedom. In my relationship I am free to pursue things that are not always available to a 48 year old married mother of two. I am free to explore sexual antics and have adventures without fear of damage to my relationship with my husband. A note of caution however. Open relationships do not mean open slather. This is where the ethical part comes in.

Bonus: Describe what your ideal intimate and / or sexual relationship would look like today.

I SUCK at outlining exactly what I want. I can’t think what would be different from what I currently have in my ideal situation.

Bonus Bonus: Now that I am on holidays I really should play with my selfie stick and perhaps work out the timer thingy. But here are some shots I took last Saturday when I had my fancy undies on.

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This post is part of this week’s TMI Tuesday. For more TMI goodness click the image below.

What’s Love got to Do With It?

In this week’s round of TMI Tuesday one of the questions was;

“Agree or Disagree. Sex without love is meaningless”

My answer went on a tangent about the sexual activities of Bonobo Apes. A species that is famous for using sexual interactions a social strategy. The key to the question is really the definition of love. Dictionary.com gives no less than 14 definitions of love as a noun, and a further six as a verb. I won’t bore you with them all but the spectrum ranged from A word formerly used in communications to represent the letter L to a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person. Sexual passion also made an appearance in more than one of the definitions.

This variety of ideas relating to love is reflected in human ideas about sexual relationships. One of the things that frustrated me early in my marriage with Mr Jones was his often repeated statement that he felt unloved if we weren’t having enough sex. This was confusing to me as I also knew that he, and most other humans, is capable of having sex with people that he DOESN’T love. Fast forward about fifteen years and both of us have had sex with any number of people who we have had various levels of attachment with.

I can confirm that you can have some amazing sex without even knowing the name of the person you are with. You can have some pretty ordinary sex with people who you would call very good friends. You can even have some pretty ordinary sex with your spouse, given the right situation. Perhaps a better question to ask than the one above is; “Does sex have to have some deep meaning to be good?”

My answer is no.

In my world there are two distinct categories of sex. Married sex, and Gemma sex. They can both be amazing and also very bad; it is a question of management. Married sex is about love, connection and affection. It also is accommodating, tolerant and ignores some things that may be a turn off. Things like; having held the person’s head while they threw up, that yesterday you were angry because they went out and left the dishes in the sink and that there is still some deep seated resentment that a life decision made fifteen years ago had a profound effect on a career that you loved.

Married sex is about keeping a level of intimacy that is needed for two people to be able to be in the same room together, alone, without killing each other. As Mr Jones and I prepare to spend six months on a boat together without the buffer of our children this kind of intimacy is important. Otherwise we could be experiencing a Dead Calm kind of situation. Married sex doesn’t have to swing off the rafters but sometimes it does help the situation if you do make that effort.

Gemma sex is a whole different ball game. It is purely about fun, pleasure and there are no compromises. It is not about maintaining a relationship. It is about exploring boundaries and just being a sexual person. It is easier to take risks, consensual of course, because if it doesn’t work out you don’t have to face the person tomorrow. You also don’t have to deal with domestic or relationship kinds of issues. There is no co-habitation. While you may listen with a sympathetic ear to their problems, at the end of the day they are THEIR problems and you don’t have to worry about them.

Does this kind of sex have no meaning? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. It generally has no ROMANTIC meaning but there is often a connection and if you continue to see the person a friendship can form. Pushing past boundaries is significant to some people and can change you as a person. Having a random stranger with no need to maintain a relationship worshipping you can definitely improve your confidence.

At the end of the day sex is a bodily function like eating and sleeping. These things can also have deep, abiding meaning or just be something we did yesterday. Why should sex be any different?