Worlds Collide

One of my greatest fears is that one day, unexpectedly, I will encounter a play friend in my professional life. Either as a colleague or as a parent. Thankfully it hasn’t happened yet but you never know.

Morning sun pierced the gap in the curtains pouring a slit of bright light over Suzie’s face. With an irritated grunt she tossed herself to the other side of the bed. The sunlight steadfastly shone on the pillow that she had left bare. Time passed. The temperature in the room rose, fed by the warmth of the sun. Suzie flung back covers to reveal her naked body. Her full round breasts moved with her chest in time with her breathing. On the bedside table her alarm buzzed piercing her sleep.

With a groan Suzie rolled over and turned off the alarm and lay with the shaft of sunlight playing over her naked belly. For a few moments she struggled to remember where she was and what day it was. Then she remembered, it was Parent – Teacher interview day. Panic began to flutter at the base of her stomach. She hated this day. Of all the days when teachers are asked to stay back, for meetings, for professional development, for awards nights the worst is parent – teacher interview day. Four hours of sitting in a hall at a tiny desk having awkward conversations with parents. With no time in between to collect your thoughts or even pee.

Suzie considered calling in sick. But she knew that would mean having to re-schedule all those meetings to another time after school. Nope, best to rip the band-aid. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and moved to the window to open the curtains. The sun shone gleefully in illuminating her entire room. As she walked past her wardrobe Suzie caught a glimpse of her ass. The bruises from two nights ago had faded a little. Their bright redness now a sullen purple with yellow tinges around the edge. A smile played around the corners of her mouth as she remembered him. The calm authority about him as he had indicated to her to lay across his lap. The way his cock prodded her belly while his hand tormented her ass. Then later, kneeling in front of him with his cock in her mouth, looking up at him. All the while her ass was burning. But not as much as her cunt.

Still fantasizing Suzie hurried to the shower, knowing she was late, knowing today was not a day to be late, or flustered, or apologetic. Nor was it a day she was going to suck that magnificent cock. She chose her outfit carefully. Her Principal’s voice ringing in her ears, “Professional dress people”. She chose a dress that snug fitting but not tight. It draped across her ample bosom showing only a hint of cleavage. The skirt was straight but allowed her to move and it was long enough that it didn’t ride up too far when she sat down. Before she stepped out the door, she checked her appearance one last time. Perfect.

The day passed in a blur. Students sat before her, some gleeful that they were finishing school early today, some nervous about the upcoming evening. She chatted with some of them about interviews that she knew were booked, calming their nerves, pointing out things they could bring up with their parents. All the things a kind teacher did. And then it was time.

The first few meetings passed without a hitch. Parents sat with their student. Grades were discussed, assignments examined, comments made about behaviour at home versus behaviour at school. Suzie was finding her rhythm. She started to relax a little. So far, so good. No complete fruit-loops and no aggressive parents with an axe to grind. Then she saw him. He was sitting in the waiting area. The same air of calm authority. The same hands, slightly larger than some, clean, manicured. The hands that could deliver a sting to your ass and then seconds later stimulate your cunt in ways she didn’t think was possible. Suzie’s ass twitched in time with her cunt. A trickle of wetness soaked her panties. For a few moments she forgot where she was. The collision between her private and professional life was completely unexpected.

He stood and for the first time she noticed the young person with him. One of her students. In fact, now that she saw them together the resemblance was obvious. The same height, the same colouring the same air of quiet confidence. Beside them a woman tottered on platform heels. Neither father nor son paid her any heed, she looked oddly out of place but in this speed-dating alternative universe nothing was unexpected.  

He sat opposite her. Nothing in his face showed that he recognised her. For a moment she doubted herself. Maybe it wasn’t him. Unsettled she shuffled her files before selecting the right one. Across the table he watched calmly. His hands were folded, nothing in his face gave him away. The mother started speaking. She babbled about her son’s cleverness and questioned his latest grade. Suzie forced herself to ignore him and focus on the mother. With a practised smile she brought out examples of work and marking rubrics to explain to the mother that remembering a bunch of facts was not enough. Suzie knew she was wasting her breath, but she was glad of the distraction.

The whole time he sat observing quietly. Suzie wondered if he would say anything. A small, bemused smile played around the corners of his mouth. Suzie felt as if SHE was the one being evaluated. He was measuring how she coped with this situation. Deciding if she was worthy. Every glance at those hands, folded neatly sent another jet of wetness to her panties. Against her seat her ass twitched, remembering the sting of his palm. After what seemed like an hour the bell rang indicating time to move on.

Suzie stood to farewell the family. She extended her hand to him. He took it firmly, looking her straight in the eye. For the first time in the whole interview he spoke,

“Thank you for being the teacher my son needs,” His voice was like silk. Exactly the way she remembered.

“Thank you for trusting our school with him,” she replied struggling to maintain a professional demeanour. She had to remind herself that he was in her world, she was in control, not him.

The mother tottered away with her son trailing behind her. For a split second they were alone in an imaginary bubble. Suzie’s heart soared.

“I have no doubt we will be seeing each other again.”

And then he was gone.

The seats in front of her tiny desk were filled with another family. A weasel of a man with his loud bossy wife and their spoiled brat of a child. The contrast couldn’t have been sharper.

This post is part of this weeks 4Thoughts or Fiction prompt, Exposed. To see who else is being exposed click on the image below.

The Whole Truth

For last week’s Wicked Wednesday the theme was two truths and a lie. My post outlined three things and there has been much speculation about which one was the lie. So here is the big reveal.

1 I have never owned a dog.

True! I grew up on a cattle property. We had dogs that were working dogs who essentially belonged to my father. They were friendly enough but definitely not my own pet. As the post outlined after I left home I chose to own a cat and I have never looked back.

2 I lost my virginity when I was 14

As some of you suspected this is the lie. There is some truth in the story that I told. I did mess around with a ringer. But we never got past third base. It was stupid. He took advantage and I am fortunate it never went further.

3 I make my own clothes

True! I have several outfits in my wardrobe that were made by myself. I even made a dress for myself and The Unicorn from the same fabric. They are not the same style of course. That would be weird.

TMI Tuesday – Dream Jobs

1 What was your first job?

My first proper job was as a lab assistant in a meat research laboratory. The people working there were firmly entrenched in 1960 – 1970 thinking about a lot of things. For a young scientist just starting out it was surreal. I am glad I was on a contract and I didn’t stay there too long.

2 In your next life what will be your job.

As a young mother who was stupidly trying to be the woman who did it all I watched my husband (yes Mr Jones) sleep all night while I was up dealing with infants and toddlers who needed feeding, nappies changed, temperatures monitored, beds cleaned yada yada. Then when they had to stay home from daycare and school because they were sick I was always the one taking the day off work.

Through those experiences I told myself over and over again that in my next life I was going to be the Dad and have the choice to get up in the morning, worry only about getting myself to work and come home at night to dinner and TV.

3 What is your favorite item in your workspace and why?

On my desk at school I have a small collection of knick knacks that come from various places; An image of St Francis from a previous school, a plushie of a HIV virus and and Ebola virus and a Cat-Dog Pop vinyl that were Christmas gifts from The Unicorn

On my desk at home I have a reminder that was given to me by a friend at a previous school that helps me to stay grounded.

4 What can you not stop thinking about

At the moment most of my energy is focussed on our upcoming sailing voyage. Every conversation ends up there. Every action is divided into “Things to do before we go” and “Stuff to deal with when we get back” Things are starting to get very real now.

5 What are you holding on to that you cannot let go – a person, a show, an item, a career, a book – anything.

I am currently obsessed with “The Last Kingdom”. Mr Jones and I are binge watching it for the second time.

Bonus: Do you have a Twitter Problem

I don’t know what constitutes a Twitter problem. Do I spend all day on it? No. Do I post constantly? No. Do I sometimes get sucked into conversations that will end in an argument with stupid people? Yes. I guess that could be counted as a problem.

This post is part of this week’s TMI Tuesday. Click on the image below to see who else is sharing.

Question 3 – Turn Ons

This is the third installment of Thirty Dirty Questions. A meme of sorts that I found on the blog of Brigit Delaney.

Question 3: What are your sure fire turn ons (and / turn offs)?

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Arousal is such a tricksy beast for me. My mind plays tricks on me and I second guess myself. I find it hard to be in the moment and to truly let go. This post has sat in my mind for over a week but still I cannot write paragraphs or describe properly what turns me on. The best I can do is a series of notes.

Turn ons

• Strength. Strength of body to be able to pull me around the bed, or the room, or wherever we are
• Strength of character. A confident man who doesn’t have to dominate but who will get what they want
• Humor. Pet once said if you can’t laugh when you are having sex you aren’t doing it right. I have never forgotten that truth.
• When a strong man touches you for the first time and you feel his desire.
• A man who is confident enough to touch his cock in front of anyone watching. He knows himself and he doesn’t mind giving himself pleasure.

Turn offs

• Sweat dripping on my face while I am fucking.
• Apology
• Weak minded excuses
• Arrogance

I read this list and realised that there are very few acts listed there. I will make a separate category for them

Turn ons;

• Licking my arse. Confidently like you want to own it
• Spanking while you are fucking me. Again, confidently like you own it
• Licking my pussy like it is your lifeblood and you cannot live without it.
• Taking your cock out in the midst of fucking and using it to stimulate my clit. I will shower you with ejaculate. I will not be able to stop myself.

I am going to leave you with these thoughts. Because I like to start my Mondays with a smile and so should you.

This post is part of this week’s MMMonday roundup. Click the image below to see who else is putting the MMM in Monday.

The Truth About Me

What can I tell you about me that you don’t already know? If you are a regular reader you know all of my dirty secrets. Sure, the average person in my face-to-face life is not aware of them but you freaks? You pretty much know it all. So here goes. Which one of these is the lie?

1.      I have never in my life owned a dog.

It’s not that I don’t like dogs. I love dogs. If I have the chance to say hello to a dog when I am walking in the bush near my home I will. The Unicorn and I used to walk most mornings and we had a collection of dog friends that we would greet. But I have never owned my own dog. When I moved into my first house away from my family and boarding houses I decided to get a pet. At the time I was working a lot and the commute from where I lived to my job was long so I decided it would be cruel to get a dog because they would be alone a lot of the time and I wasn’t sure I could commit to walking them every day.

I grew up on a farm. We had working dogs of course. From that experience I have very strong views about caring for animals. I don’t believe big dogs should be kept in a regular yard at all, even with regular exercise. I don’t believe any dog should be kept in a yard without the opportunity to get out and about every day. So I chose a cat. She stayed with me for nearly twenty years. Just before she left us my daughter got her own kitten, he is attached to all of us but he is hers. I now am responsible for a rainbow lorikeet. They look cute but they are noisy, messy and can be very aggressive!

2.      I lost my virginity when I was fourteen.

Like I said I grew up on a farm. My father owns 22, 000 acres. It sounds like a lot if you come from a place where the stock to land ratio is high. Somewhere like Europe or even the coastal parts of Australia. But there are parts of Australia where 22, 000 acres is tiny. For his whole life, my dad raised grass fed, free ranging beef cattle. My brothers and I were home-schooled until we reached high school age. We all learned to ride horses when we were small children and we all spent many days riding around in the Landcruiser with our Dad fixing, fences, checking water troughs and fixing pumps and windmills. About four times a year we would muster. This would involve herding up all the cattle (about 2000), paddock by paddock, counting them, treating them for ticks and buffalo flies, separating out the calves that needed weaning and branding the new calves.  

During these times, my Dad would hire extra men to help him. We all participated in mustering (except my mother, but we don’t talk about that).  My father was not a fan of horse riding so avoided the actual herding on horseback as much as possible by finding other tasks to do. Consequently, my brothers and I were left with ringers frequently to do the grunt work of riding out to locate and collect cattle. There were so many opportunities for a young, curious girl to be alone with a young horny man… It was inevitable really.

Source Australian Geographic. https://www.australiangeographic.com.au/travel/travel-destinations/2014/03/gallery-outback-ringers-of-the-top-end/

3.      I sew my own clothes.

I am a bit like Tula Pink (although The Unicorn assures me I do NOT want to become a Tula Pink person). The Unicorn and I have an ideal when it comes to crafting and creating stuff. We call it “Out of the Closet”. Basically, it means that when we make items the first stop in the search for materials is our own cupboard. My mother is a hoarder. If she died tomorrow, I could make it my full-time job to sew up all the fabric she owns and knit or crochet up all the wool she owns, and I probably wouldn’t be finished before I die!

This has driven me to be a bit obsessive about NOT buying fabric “just because it looks nice” and to put on blinkers every time I go to Spotlight so that I buy what I came for and get the hell out. It also means that I can usually obtain something to add to my own closet every time I visit her.

I sew a range of things, clothing mainly, but also toys and quilts. There are several dresses in my regular school rotation that I made myself. There is something about being able to say “Thank you I made it myself” when someone compliments you on your outfit!

So, there you have it. Which one is the lie and which ones are the truths? As Writer of Words says, I will see you in the comments.

This post is part of Wicked Wednesday #460. Click on the image below to see who else is sharing.

Ben’s Mum

I started writing this for last week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt. But life is a bit on top of me right now. Rebel has kindly let me link it up this week.

There is always that one mother that everyone lusts after. The one who is just a little bit different from the others. In primary school my friend had one of those mums. We were children lust wasn’t part of our landscape. What we did notice was that the other mums looked different from Ben’s mum. Ben’s mum wore her hair out, sitting over her shoulder with one strand falling around her face. The top button of her blouse always seemed undone, and her skirts were shorter than the other mothers.

We didn’t think anything of these things. Other than to think Ben’s mum was pretty. The other mothers always looked at her sideways. She never seemed to be part of the groups of mums standing around their cars in the carpark waiting to pick up their children from school. We were kids, she seemed happy, it didn’t seem to be a problem. Ben and I grew up, we went to the same high school. Ben’s mum didn’t really change. Her dresses were still short, and her hair was still long. In high school no – one stood around the carpark chatting. Cars pulled in, kids got in or out, depending on the time of day, and they drove away. Life went on.

One day we were at Ben’s sitting on the couch with a boy who had just come to our school. We were sixteen, life consisted of school, X-box, eating, part-time jobs and hanging out with our mates. If we weren’t talking about gaming, we were talking about girls. We played League of Legends for a while, but it got boring. So we sat around talking about sex and girls. Goaded by our friends we played hot or not; listing girls at school who we thought were hot and laughing when someone listed as hot a girl we felt differently about. Then our new friend dropped a clanger,

“I think Ben’s mum is hot,”

The room went still. I looked at Ben, he had this weird look on his face. Like he didn’t know where to look or what to say. The other boys with us looked down and shuffled their feet. The new boy, Carl was defensive,

“Well she is.”

Sam broke the silence, “Dude that is not cool. You can’t talk about someone’s mum like that.”

Things were really awkward, and everyone went home as soon as they could. But later that night when I was in bed I thought about Ben’s mum and what Carl had said. Ben’s mum was hot. I knew that, I had known that for a long time. All of us knew that, including Ben. It was a rule between all of us to never talk about it.

In the darkness of my room I reached for my penis. It was firm in my hand. The familiar feeling of my penis in my hand, my hand moving the way I knew would pleasure me was reassuring. Even my fantasy was familiar.

Ben’s mum opened the door for me. She smiled that beautiful smile.

“Hello Josh,” she stepped back so I could come inside. “Ben is not here but I can get you a coke.” I follow her down the hallway watching her ass move under the thin fabric of her dress. In the kitchen she bends down to get a drink out of the fridge. The hem of her dress lifts until I get a glimpse of the pink panties she is wearing. I sit on the stool near the bench and she leans forward to pour me a drink. I can see that the bra she is wearing matches her panties. She smiles at me,

“Call me Katie,” She pours a drink for herself and sits next to me. As if it was the most normal thing in the world, she puts her hand on my thigh. I look at her, she smiles and slides her hand upwards,

“You are the cutest one of Ben’s friends,” she leans forward and our lips meet.

In my bed my hand is shuffling up and down under the blanket. I feel the familiar pressure building. My breathing is heavy punctuated by small grunts.

Katie takes me to her room, and I watch as she slips out of her dress, she unclasps her bra and lets it fall to the floor. Her breasts are amazing. She pulls me towards her, and my hands reach up and cup her breasts. She looks down at my pants and smiles at me. Before I can say anything, she unzips them and pulls out my penis. Her hand is warm as it strokes me.

I cannot hold back. Jizz spurts out of me and covers my hand. I lie there thinking about Ben’s mum for a few moments longer before I reach for a tissue to wipe my hand. Sleepiness is taking over and I drift off.

The next day I knock on Ben’s door. His mum answers,

“Hello Josh,” she smiles that smile. I feel the familiar twinge in my pants. “Ben has just gone to the shop to get some milk, he won’t be long. Did you want to come in and wait for him?”

“Sure Mrs Adams,” I look down. It feels weird being alone with Ben’s mum.

She leads the way to the family room. Her ass moves under her dress, the way it does in my fantasy. The twinge in my pants is a little stronger. I am desperate to find somewhere to sit, so I can hide my erection. She walks into the kitchen, of course she hasn’t noticed anything. I sit at the bench. The counter hides the bulge in my pants.

“Would you like a coke?” she asks.

“No thanks Mrs Adams.” I reply. I couldn’t stand to watch her bend into the fridge. It would be too weird.

She smiles a big smile at me, it doesn’t help. “You are so much more grown up these days Josh, you should call me Katie.”

Image by Agent John from Pixabay

To see who else is being wicked you can click on the image below

TMI Tuesday – The Money Edition

1 If you pay someone to do one chore what would it be?

The first thing that popped into my mind when I read this was clean my house. I have paid someone to clean my house in the past. It was good but I have a semi – retired husband and two adult children living with me right now. If we can’t manage to get the place clean enough there is a problem!

Maybe a personal stylist / shopper would be cool.

2 If I gave you $1, 000, 000USD how much would you give to charity?

Mr Jones is not a huge fan of donating cash to major charities. I think he feels that a lot of money gets wasted on admin etc. In the event of a windfall like that I feel that a proportion of it would get donated but some would be directed at specific people who we know personally that need a hand.

3 What is the most annoying thing your partner does with money?

Talk about it! Mr Jones is interested in finance and economics so we spend a lot of time talking about his theories relating to tax, wealth generation and debt management. It isn’t something I find particularly interesting but there we are.

4 What is something you bought as a couple but would be embarrassed for your parents to know?

I don’t think there is anything we have bought that I am embarrassed about. I don’t particularly discuss money with my parents. My mother in particular is one of those people who likes to gossip about people in a nasty way and always shares her unwanted opinions. So I make a point of not discussing our finances with her.

5 What money related thing have you hidden from your significant other?

Nothing. All of our accounts are joint. So Mr Jones sees every transaction I make. If I wanted to hide something it would require a lot of maneuvering.

Bonus: If you received $1, 000, right now would you tell people? Why or Why not?

Regular readers will know that we bought a boat recently. It is not a small boat. One of the questions I get asked by colleagues is how much it cost. I have always been very cagey about the answer to that question. Explaining where the money came from and why I am still working if I can afford something like that is a conversation I don’t want to have.

Thirty Dirty Questions: No 2

Welcome back to another edition of Thirty Dirty Questions as first posted on the blog of Brigit Delaney. You can find the first edition here. The second question is:

How do you feel about PDA, including kink / sex in public?

“Leave room for Jesus” the chant of a Catholic School teacher on playground duty shooing couples away from corners and hiding places where they go to get some privacy and alone time on a campus teeming with 1000 students and another 150 or so staff. As a teacher it is often obvious who is dating who, mostly. Sometimes it is just an everyday thing. They sit together at lunch deep in conversation maybe holding hands or stealing little touches of each other’s thigh and arm. Those couples are cute, they make you smile and even though you pull them gently apart and they are suitably embarrassed you sometimes wish the world weren’t so judgemental and you could let them be.

Then there are the ones that make your skin crawl. Everything about them as people seems just a little bit wrong. The girls who constantly fiddle with their hair in class and are not quite attractive but still use their sex to manipulate people. The boys who are covered in acne, spend too much time indoors and are never quite clean always seem to attract girls for reasons that mystify sane people. They touch each other constantly and you know that outside of school, and at school if they can, they would be having sex, furtively in a desperate way in strange places like cars and alleys.

Those couples should be separated by an iron bar, the kind that kinksters use to spread a submissive’s legs. Actually, that would be kind of amusing. Two teenagers desperate to fondle each other held apart by a rigid implement. Close enough to smell each other but too far away to touch. Yes, teachers do have sadistic thoughts about some students.

In the real-world things are slightly different. PDA is more accepted, sometimes. I guess we assume that adults have a better sense of what is appropriate for their surroundings. Sometimes we are right, sometimes we are not. For me personally PDA in fully public settings should mostly be about holding hands and kissing. Maybe, sometimes, putting your hand in the waistband of your partner’s pants. I remember once a fellow primary school mum telling me that she admired the way my husband and I embraced and kissed openly in the school carpark as we parted ways for the day. She thought our obvious affection for each other showed that our marriage was strong and natural.

She had no idea that I would kiss a man who was NOT my husband in the same way, if I didn’t think someone who knew me would see. There is something alluring about being sexy in public. Kissing, fondling, wearing no underwear. The thrill of doing something illicit adds to the excitement. But like, everything in this world there are times and places where this kind of thing is more OK than others.

I have had sex in the changeroom of a department store. More than once. The first time was hot and branded into the memory of both me and my partner of the day. Both of us went there again with other partners. For both of us it was not as good the second time. Sometimes spontaneity can mask thoughts of what is not right about a situation and allow us to truly enjoy something. When I think back over times when I did do sexy stuff in public I have mixed feelings. Sometimes I shudder with shame and I wonder if I am any better than the spotty teenage couple that make my skin crawl.

Sometimes I feel the heat of excitement and think it is the sexiest fucking thing. The trick is not to get into your head about it too much.

TMI Tuesday – You Sexy Thang!

1 Pick your next sexual encounter. Only pick one, then tell us why that is your choice.

1. Blindfolded during oral sex
2. Sex in a hot tub
3. Sex in an elevator
4. Phone sex
5. Bringing in a third party

I am going with blindfolded during oral sex. Although I hope that it turns into a full on sex session with the blindfold on. I am the kind of person who very much likes to be in control so the blindfold would be challenging but with the right person I would very much like to try it.

2 When could having sex with an ex be a good thing?

Never.

Thinks it over for a moment.

Nope, definitely never. Exes are exes. They belong in your past and like all mistakes the only thing you should take into the future from them is the lessons you learned. I am even of the mind that sex partners that have left your life for whatever reason should never be re-heated. Although I have been tempted….

3. Have you ever had sex in a public toilet?

I know you said no judgement Hedone so I am going to take you at face value!! I have never had penetrative sex in a public toilet. Does that count. I have sucked a guy off in the toilet of a city hotel which was in the foyer so kind of public?? Does that mean I get kind of judged?

4. Car sex is hot or not?

The idea of car sex is hot. The reality is weird positioning and awkward moments. I once had sex in a car that was parked in the carpark of a pub where I met a prospective partner for the first time. It was without a doubt a quickie, the whole thing lasted less than five minutes. At the time I thought it was a good sign.

It wasn’t

I also had multiple encounters with a man who was supposedly playing with the knowledge and consent of his partner. He was very reluctant to host or shell out for a hotel. After a daytime encounter in the back of a car in January (middle of Australian summer). I called it quits.

5. What is the most appealing thing about you?

My razor wit and fantastic arse of course.

If you want proof

Unless you are in my year 11 Maths class and then the fact that I offer chocolate bars as a reward is the most appealing thing about me.

Bonus: Some time ago in Geneva, Switzerland, a coffee shop opened where you can get a hot delicious cup of coffee, with a side of a hot delicious blowjob. A) Would you visit this coffee shop? B) Would you get the blowjob?

Firstly I don’t like coffee and I find all the wank surrounding it amusing. Coffee culture when viewed from the outside is just a little bit ridiculous. I mean who can take someone seriously who absolutely MUST have their “Flat skinny no-dairy macchiato in a tall cup” daily. It’s coffee!!! For the record I feel a bit the same about wine. So coffee shops don’t cut it for me.

In terms of the blow job? Maybe. I have played with an ex sex worker and he gave some of the best pussy lickings I have ever experienced.

Image by Sarah Huerta from Pixabay

This post is part of this week’s TMI Tuesday roundup. Click on the icon below to see who else is sharing!

What’s in a Name

I started writing erotica sometime around 2010. Our family had just returned from a three month caravan trip through the wilds of South and Western Australia and the Northern Territory. During that time I used a blog as a way of sharing my adventures with family and friends. My romance with the written word began….

Upon our return I started writing erotica based on the adventures I was having as part of my swinging journey. I didn’t have the confidence to go blazing ahead with a blog at first. I tested the waters by posting one of my stories on the dating website we use. Given that the audience was a bunch of people looking for other people to have sex with it was well received. I looked further afield and discovered Literotica.

It was there that I honed my skills of writing by using some of their help articles and later with the assistance of a volunteer editor. While writing there I used the pen name Babeslady, which is a play on the name Mr Jones uses for me and my actual name. It was in those early days I wrote a story about an adventure I had with Mr Jones that involved another woman he saw for a little while. She and I co-wrote the story. For this story I had to give myself a name. For no other reason than I liked it, I chose Gemma. Because I liked it, it became the name I used when I did start a blog a short while later. The second name Jones just seemed to fit. I didn’t know there is a British Actress of that name until I had already set up my first blog and Twitter account. It was too late then.

Source https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0428121/

So that was how I became Gemma Jones. I use the name for most things on the net associated with my lifestyle. When I talk to potential lovers online I introduce myself as Gemma. Some of them learn my real name, some of them work it out for themselves, some of them are none the wiser. It honestly doesn’t matter. In my mind Gemma is almost a separate person from the everyday woman who gets up, goes to school, teaches a bunch of teenagers and then comes home to make dinner and watch TV. Gemma is an adventurer who posts pictures of her body online and writes stories that excite and arouse.

In my current blog when I refer to my adventurous life I speak about Gemma, when I speak about my mundane life I refer to myself as Mrs Jones. It helps to keep my mind straight although I am sure there is more crossover than I realise. May Moor, in her post on this topic, states that she “has become so comfortable in May’s shoes (wellies actually) that I see us as one” As I read that statement I found myself nodding. Even though there is a delineation between Gemma and Mrs Jones we are really just two sides of the same coin.

I wish the world was such that we didn’t need to hide parts of us from conservative, small minded people. But it is not. And so until I retire and no longer need to appear to conduct myself in a socially acceptable way Gemma will be that delicious part of me that comes out for special people.

This post is part of this week’s 4 Thoughts or Fiction prompt #169 Pen name. Click the image below to read some other entries.