Friday Flashback – In Plain Sight

Welcome to another instalment from the vault of stuff I wrote once. I really should compile some of it into a book.

As Susan touched the little box in her pocket the corners of the box stabbed into her thigh reminding her of what she had come here to do. As she lifted her coffee to her lips she felt a flutter of butterflies in her stomach and a slight quiver in her wrist. She was forced to put her cup down for a moment. Then she saw him. It is strange how you can always recognise people even though you have never really seen them before. She recognised some of his features from his photograph, the way his hair fell down over his face and the fullness of his lips. At the same time he looked nothing like his photo and she felt as if she had never spoken to him before. For a fleeting moment panic flashed through her, what was she doing here? What was she thinking agreeing to this? The time she had spent chatting with this man seemed irrelevant and she felt like an awkward schoolgirl on her first date.

“Susan?” he stopped beside her table looking down at her enquiringly.  

She half stood to greet him, then the weight between her legs reminded her again of what she had come to do. Her eyes slid to the side noting where he was sitting on the other side of the coffee shop reading the paper, his face hidden from her. Despite this it felt as if his eyes were boring a hole through the paper, watching her every move.

“Hello Grant,” she smiled warmly looking him straight in the eye. 

“It is nice to meet you at last,” he held her hand longer than normally, releasing it only as they sat. “I have to say that you are as lovely as I fantasised.”

A throb went through her groin at his choice of words. She remembered his text from last night.  

This is what fantasising about you has done to me.
 Accompanied by a picture of his cock hard and gripped in the hand that now rested on the table. A new surge of wetness collected on her already damp panties. 

Grant signalled to the waitress and ordered a coffee. “Did you want anything to go with your coffee?” he asked her. 

“No thank you.” Susan answered. She could feel the eyes boring into her from across the room. It felt as if all of the eyes in the room were watching her right then. It was as if everyone knew what she was holding between her thighs and what she planned to do that day. For a moment she was overwhelmed by the thought of a thousand pairs of eyes looking at her watching her wantonness. 

She took a deep breath and reached into her pocket to retrieve the box. Without speaking she placed it on the table between them. It sat there, unmarked and giving no clue of the contents and the purpose of them before Grant reached forward and took it in his hands. In her mind Susan heard a collective gasp from the thousand people in the room watching her. She pressed her thighs together under the table, trying to supress the throbbing that had erupted in her clit. It felt as if she had a tiny penis growing in her panties. 

The waitress brought Grant’s coffee and he nodded thanks as he held the box under the table to inspect the contents. Across the room the man had put the paper down and was watching her intently. 

The buzz jolted through her and made her jump. Her heart was thundering as she looked across at him. His brown eyes were twinkling as he took a sip of coffee. “Sorry just getting used to the controls,” he apologised. 

Susan clasped her hands in her lap and struggled to control her breathing as the buzz started again,  this time, more slowly. Heat spread through her belly. Her sensitive clit grew even larger. The muscles of her pussy clamped around the vibrations as they increased sending warm pleasure through her. 

Then they stopped. She almost wimpered in disappointment as everything in her panties went still. She felt as if she was sitting in a pool of her own juices but she didn’t care. All she wanted was more buzzing. Across the table Gant sipped his coffee.

“So what is it that you are studying?” he asked as if they were two friends catching up. 

“Business,” Susan’s voice didn’t sound normal to her.

“Sounds interesting,” Grant took another sip of his coffee and another buzz shot through Susan’s cunt. This time he didn’t ease her into it. He let her have the full force of throbbing vibrations for a second before taking it away again. “You must be good at keeping things in order then.”

Susan took another breath to steady herself. Her cunt ached. She wanted more than buzzing now. The image of Grant’s cock was almost all she could think about. She wanted to be filled with him.  “Yes,” she forced herself to sound normal.

“You like things to be neat and orderly and how you expected then?” He looked at her intently as the buzzing started again. This time it was faint, the wetness of her cunt made it almost impossible to feel. She clamped her pussy hard around her vibe taking comfort from the feeling of the hard plastic inside her. Her phone pinged on the table beside her. She picked it up and checked her message. Underneath an image of a familiar cock was the following message,

I am hard and I am waiting to watch you.

“Everything OK?” Grant asked as she looked up.

“Definitely,” she tipped the last of her coffee into her mouth. There was more buzzing in her cunt. The ache to be filled by a cock was almost unbearable now. She looked across the table into his eyes, challenging him. 

“So,” she let the word hang between them.

Grant took up the challenge. He too drained his coffee.

“Lead the way,” He stood and reached his hand out to her. She smiled inwardly as she noted the bulge in his pants.

The made their way purposefully to the carpark. Susan led the way to the far corner where she had parked. Looking him in the eye she pulled up the hem of her dress up and slid her panties down to her ankles. Looking over his shoulder she could see him leaning casually on the bonnet of a car parked a couple of rows away. She opened her knees and slid the vibe out of her cunt. As she did so she grazed her clit and gasped at the shock.

Grant watched as she held the vibe to her own lips and licked her juice from it before she turned and bent over the car with her legs spread as wide as her panties would allow. She waited resting her hot face against the cool metal of the car. There was a quiet jingle of a buckle and the sound of a zipper before she felt her dress being lifted. His cock slid into her slowly filling her just the way she had hoped. His breath was hot in her ear,

“You are so fucking wet you horny little thing,”

He slid his cock out before pounding it back in. 

Image by Olya Adamovich from Pixabay

When Life Hands You Lemons

Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

A couple of months ago. I received a notification from Twitter telling me that my profile image violated their terms of use. I complied with their instructions and changed the offending image. I found it a little ironic that the image that was so offensive was so tame compared to some of the ones that I have seen in my timeline. As I was venting about it to The Unicorn she informed me that trigger of these events was likely being reported by someone. That Twitter as an organisation wouldn’t normally identify an offending image and take action. I would concur as the image had been in place for possibly years with no issues. In a fit of defiance I posted an image from the #travellingboob series. 

It was a foolish decision made without any adult consideration. I knew it wasn’t compliant but like a teenager I didn’t stop to consider the consequences. Things went well for a couple of weeks but of course it was only a matter of time. And then I was in Twitter jail again. Despite all of my ranting and frustration at communicating with Bots and their automated system they were the ones with the power. And I was a small person who didn’t matter to them. 

And so my account is suspended. Which is frustrating. Frustrating because their response to my question; “Does that mean I can’t re-open this account ever?”  Was “your account has been suspended and will not be reactivated?” They haven’t deleted the account. I can’t delete the account so it sits there in suspended animation with the offending profile image on display. Maybe one day it will come back to life. In the meantime I am left to take stock.

I regret being impulsive because it has affected traffic to my blog. Something I didn’t stop to consider properly. I have lost contact with a few people who I kind of wish I didn’t, also something I didn’t stop to consider properly. My perception of social media has changed a little during this process. I used to think it was a piece of fluff that we used to fill our time. And it is. But it is also something else. A tool for connecting to people. It would be easy to think that one platform can be replaced by another but that is not so. They are all different. They don’t serve the same purpose. And if the community you are connected to all use a particular platform you are kind of forced to use it too. 

And so here I sit. Taking stock of what I am doing with the blog, with my writing. I have always said that I only blogged for my own purposes and wouldn’t be driven by traffic. That is still true, up to a point, but it feels pointless putting words out into thin air. There has to be some kind of function to my writing. I need to feel that there is someone getting pleasure from my words. Ultimately it would be amazing if people liked it enough to give me money for my words but finding those people and providing words worth money is something I am not sure I have the wherewithal to do. 

As a step towards finding paying customers I opened a Medium account. I haven’t posted there yet but as part of this ‘taking stock” process I am getting some pieces ready. I am not abandoning Corrupting Mrs Jones as I only really want to post fiction on Medium. So you will all still be subjected to my rambling thoughts. I started this year determined to keep up a sustained presence on Corrupting Mrs Jones. I have achieved that goal and for a while the traffic reflected that. Until my nipples got in the way. What it has shown me is that I am OK as a writer. I just need to be a bit more focussed. In the wash-up I regret being impulsive but I think it has given me the nudge I needed. As they say, onwards and upwards. 

Wicked Wednesday

Shut Up and Drive, part 2

Jensen’s story continues. Unexpectedly he encounters the mystery woman as he goes about his business with his brother. For the first part of the story click here

Succubi, hells whores. They lure men into fits of ecstasy and then kill them by sucking out their life force. So the legend goes. – Journal of John Winchester.

7 REASONS WHY 'SUPERNATURAL' ACTOR JEFFREY DEAN MORGAN'S 'JOHN WINCHES –  Supernatural-Sickness

“So it looks as though we may have a case,” Jared looked up at Jensen as he staggered through the door.

“That’s good bro,” Jensen stumbled over to collapse on the bed. “It’s gonna have to wait until the morning though, I am beat.”

“What happened to you? Jared put down the newspaper he was reading.

“Nothing man, Jensen’s voice was already thick with sleep. “Just need some sleep.” Within moments he was snoring softly, completely unconscious. 

Jared shrugged and continued reading. His brother’s erratic behaviour was just a part of their crazy life. He continued to read articles and use the information to cross reference with his father’s journal. The hotel room was silent except for the sound of Jensen’s snores and the scratching of Jared’s pencil. Sometime around midnight even coffee wasn’t enough and Jared succumbed to sleep.

“Rise and shine buddy boy!” 

Jared struggled to open his eyes. His brother waved a breakfast burrito under his nose. “Time to go hunt evil things!”

With a heavy sigh Jared struggled out of bed. “You are chipper this morning. What has gotten in to you?”

“Just high on life bro,” Jared slammed back a coffee and devoured half of his burrito. “What were you saying about a case?”

Jared frowned at his brother as he shrugged on his jeans and a shirt, “So you were listening,”

Jensen shrugged, “Of course man! Why would I not listen to you, the font of all knowledge on things evil,” 

“Because you don’t usually,” Jared was wary of the new bouncy Jensen. Something was not right. 

“Well today is a new day and you, baby bro, have been under appreciated. So hit me with the deets.” 

Jared rummaged through the newspapers and notes he had spent half the night scribbling. “Well there have been reports in the local area of men disappearing. Over the last five or so years there have been three cases. The first was a man in his thirties, lived alone, found by his neighbour in his bed, naked. His appearance was described as desiccated even though he could not have been dead more than three days.”

Jensen nodded as he shovelled the remainder of his breakfast into his mouth and took a swig of coffee. He eyed Jared’s breakfast as yet untouched, “You gonna eat that?”

Jared frowned at the interruption, “No, go ahead,” He continued, “The second case was a younger man, twenty five, last seen leaving a bar with a young woman. His body was found in his car two days later, same desiccated appearance. Third case was a man in his forties, reported missing by his wife after he didn’t return from a visit to the local burger joint. Body has not been located.” 

“Right then.” Jensen’s mouth was full of burrito. “What is your conclusion then, Baby Bro?”

“Well it is not a lot to go on but I am leaning towards a succubi.” Jared took a sip of his coffee. 

“Bit of a stretch,” Jensen swallowed the last of the burrito. “Let’s go make the acquaintance of the local morgue people.” Jensen shrugged into his jacket followed by a more cautious Jared. 

“Sure,” he was used to following his brother’s lead with some things but today he seemed even looser than ever. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was not going to end well.

As the Impala drew up outside the morgue Jensen noticed the young woman walking along the street. Same dark hair falling down her back and same bright red lips that parted in that slow smile when she saw the car. There was something about a woman who appreciated a classic car. 

“You go in and ask questions Bro,” he spoke to Jared without taking his eyes off the young woman. 

“Sure,” Jared replied gathering his notepad and fake ID. He glanced in the direction of the young woman. “She doesn’t look like your regular type. Aren’t you more into blondes?” 

“Variety is the spice of life Jared!” Jensen grinned a little like a wolf about to eat his dinner. Jared felt a brief moment of sympathy for the woman, but as she walked closer he wondered if his brother had met his match. 

“Good morning,” the woman greeted Jensen as he stepped out of the car, “Did you sleep well?” She stood close enough that Jensen could smell her fresh perfume and the cherry flavoured lip gloss. 

“Like a baby,” Jensen stretched in the morning sunshine. “I haven’t slept that well in years.” 

The woman moved closer and placed her hand on Jensen’s chest, her face was close to his and Jensen felt himself responding to her. Their eyes met and he felt as if he could dive into their deep brown depths. Her hand slid lower until it was resting on the front of his jeans. Despite himself Jensen could feel his cock hardening and his breath coming harder and faster. The woman’s breasts were pressed against his chest and her mouth was millimetres from his. He could smell her cherry lip gloss and feel the warmth of her breath on his face. Her eyes were like dark pools, enticing him to dive in. 

Before he realised it her hand was inside his pants. Her fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly. Waves of pleasure washed over him. He felt his legs buckling underneath him as she continued to stroke. Her eyelids drooped and a look of pure satisfaction came over her face as she leaned against him. The same as before he felt his climax building almost against his will, as if she were pulling it out of him. Weakly he fought it, trying to make the moment last but it was futile. He rode the wave of his orgasm, higher than he ever remembered. Jizz pulsed over her willing hand as he groaned in pleasure. She whimpered and her body undulated against his, as if she were feeling his orgasm herself. For a long moment they both stood slumped against his car before she roused herself and withdrew her hand from his pants. Unashamed she licked his jizz from her hand. Her pink tongue cleaning her hand like a cat. 

Jensen was unable to move. Somehow he stayed upright as she finished eating his semen before she straightened her hair and leaned over to use the window of the car as a mirror to apply her lip gloss. The scent of cherry filled the air as she stood up. 

“Delicious.” She grinned before turning to walk away. 

Jensen watched her go still unable to move from his position slumped against the car. His body felt heavy and exhausted. He grinned at the memory of how good her hand felt wrapped around his cock. Just as Jared appeared at the doorway of the morgue Jensen was able to stagger to the front door of the car and slide into the driver’s seat. 

“What happened to you?” Jared frowned in concern at the sight of his brother slumped in the seat. 

With a massive effort Jensen sat upright and leaned forward to start the car,

“Nothing,” The high on life feeling of earlier in the day had left him completely. Somehow he turned the steering wheel and the car moved out of the parking lot. Later when the reached the hotel, Jensen staggered through the door and collapsed on the bed. He had no recollection of the drive. It was as if the car had driven by itself.

Supernatural surge: '67 Chevrolet Impala most searched for car |  ClassicCars.com Journal
Wicked Wednesday
mmmMondays

Choosing the Red Pill

Image by Septimiu Balica from Pixabay

As many of you will know Mr Jones and myself have spent the last six months sailing a yacht up and down the Queensland coast. While I was alway I was asked by a friend to make a video explaining what I thought it meant to be alive as part of a project she was working on to celebrate the anniversary of a person very close to her. I was unsure of what to do but as I was sitting on the outer Barrier Reef watching the sunrise I made a completely off the cuff video. Sitting on a yacht rocking in the ocean after a bad night’s sleep I had a realisation that being alive was not all about joy and happiness. The anxiety and fear that made up a lot of my voyage was part of being alive. Here I was living in a way that many people never get the chance to. My environment was the ocean, the creatures that live in and on it. Everything was pure and a lot of the issues that take up so much of our emotional energy every day were background noise. 

As my journey came to an end I was asked by many people “How are you going to cope with the real world?” I began to reject the idea that where they were was the real world. I became even more connected to sunrises and sunsets and habitually took the time to really see what I was surrounded by. Most people cannot comprehend this lifestyle. Many people imagined that I was experiencing what they experience on their two week resort vacation over an extended period of time. The reality, my reality, was very different. There was sunset drinks most days. They didn’t come with a fancy umbrella but rather in an ordinary insulated cup. We ate but it was food similar to every day home made food with no frills. In fact it was one of the best diets I have ever encountered. I lost 10 kilos while still having some chocolate and at least one drink every day. I never felt as if I was missing out. 

There were a lot of times, especially in the beginning where I was anxious. Being away from the things that make up your every day life is like standing naked in front of a crowd. All of the creature comforts of every day life were stripped away and I was exposed in front of the ocean and nature. The ocean wasn’t always calm and stunning shades of blue. Sometimes it was grey and confused. The wind wasn’t always a gentle breeze. Sometimes it was strong and came thundering down valleys in gusts that pushed us around on our anchor. Sometimes we spent nights awake and fretting about being pushed onto a reef or some rocks. It was in these moments that, despite my fear, I became alive. Not happy and drugged with creature comforts and stimulation of the internet but living and feeling the real world. 

I was introduced to the pop culture reference to “blue pill thinking” by Mike at Marriage Sex and More. Mike uses this term to refer to many male ideas about accepting a bad marriage as the way of the world and using this acceptance as an excuse to avoid taking responsibility for their situation and taking steps to change it but the wider idea of the ‘blue pill’ is about becoming immersed in these creature comforts and accepting the chains of employment and adult responsibilities of mortgages and acquiring stuff as a necessary part of life. Rejecting this thinking is part of the cruising life. To make this voyage I took unpaid leave from my job. I risked going back to work after everyone had been there without me for six months. We risked missing moments with our family but we were free. There was no employer or bank dictating where we went or what we did. All of the consequences of our choices were on us and we were free. Living in the red pill world. 

In the past Mr Jones and I took three months to take our children in a caravan to some remote and very iconic parts of Australia. The journey required similar risks. Leaving our house and business in the hands of others, leaving jobs and living in a no frills way. We met many other families doing the same thing. What we all had in common was choices that we made that involved risk and going against the grain. After our return many of our friends were amazed by our journey and several of them expressed the desire to take on a similar journey “when the time is right” 

For people like this often the time is never right. There is never a perfect time to undertake a journey. That is part of rejecting the blue pill. There are always people to leave behind, always a job or some financial commitment to fulfil. There is always the feeling that something that matters will be somehow incomplete or not right. Sure I could argue that leaving my job for six months left me exposed to someone undermining me. Leaving my eighteen year old daughter to fend for herself was irresponsible parenting. But these things are not insurmountable. The universe works how it works and when I am on my death bed the thing I will hold in my heart will be sunsets and connection to country, not a million mundane moments of getting ready for work and making dinner. 

So what is real? That routine stuff, driving to work, dealing with traffic, paying bills. That is just white noise. Reality is the spinning of the Earth and watching the sun go down with a drink in your hand. 

TMI Tuesday – Back to Work Edition

Sunset at beautiful Lady Musgrave Island. Photo copyright of Gemma Jones

1. I’m so jealous, I wish I was _____ .

I am not jealous of anyone who is in a place like the one pictured. I do wish I was back there though, or so many other places.

2. When would you seek help from a sex therapist?

This question is one of the Thirty Dirty Questions series. You can read my full answer here. The summary answer; I am not really comfortable with the idea of visiting a therapist for any reason and so this scenario is unlikely. However if I was in a poly relationship and we were having jealousy issues this could be an option.

3. How do you break up with a friend?

I honestly don’t know. I have had a lot of friends come and go in my life. The main process seems to be ghosting. Because of my experiences being socially isolated and feeling awkward and not accepted as a teenager I am super sensitive to rejection. When I experience a situation that gives me the slightest feeling of rejection I automatically assume the worst and go to the default position of hating people.

4. Give us a tip to turn a bad day around.

A hug from a good friend works. Also driving over the speed limit with the music blaring.

This is an example of a great song to have blaring out your window as you drive down the freeway.

Bonus: Do you feel drowned by social media?

An interesting question. I limit the platforms I interact with because of my job. I don’t want to run into my students online. So I am limited to the old fashioned platforms of Twitter and Facebook. Currently I am in Twitter jail because my profile image was deemed pornographic. So, frustrated by the companies that own and run social media? Yes. Drowned by it? No.

Look at My Butt

This week is prompt week at Sinful Sunday and the prompt is L. I had the opportunity this week to get naked in front of the camera of a friend of mine. He was excited because he had a new camera and wanted to try out some portrait work. I am sure there will be more images from this session appearing on these pages in the next few weeks but this one was just a silly pose that turned out really well.

Sinful Sunday

Friday Flashback – Signs

I seem to be on a bit of a Succubi bent this week.

The signs were there. Right from the moment she opened the door. The way his voice quavered when he greeted her, the awkward way he walked as he followed her down to her chamber. She knew that this would be fun. Once inside she turned and stood in front of the bed facing him. Looking straight into his eyes she shrugged off her robe letting him see her nakedness. Without speaking she observed the way his Adam’s apple bobbed and the bulge in his jeans. Without breaking eye contact she sat on the edge of the bed with her knees spread wide apart. With one finger she traced the outline of her lips slowly and dipped her finger into herself before lifting it to her mouth to lick it clean.

His eyes opened wide and he shuffled uneasily on his feet,

“Perhaps you should show me what you have,” her voice broke the silence making him jump slightly. He looked confused for a moment before he realised what she meant. His hands shook as he fumbled with his belt and unzipped himself. She could see his cock straining against his boxers as he pushed his jeans down his legs. His boxers joined his jeans in an untidy pile on the floor and he stood in front of her with his cock jutting out in front of him.

Her red lips arched into a sly smile as she wrapped her fingers around his cock. She loved this moment, when she touched them for the first time, feeling the hardness, the pent up energy, the ache for release combined with the terror that they will make a fool of themselves. This was why she chose these boys, something about their awkwardness and inability to control themselves properly turned her on more than the most skilled love makers.  His eyes closed and his ragged breathing seemed loud in her ears as she moved her hand up and down his shaft. A bead of pre cum formed at the head of his cock. She could feel his thoughts whirring desperately trying to hold back the surge.  A note of panic pushed its way through the energy she was picking up from him. Watching his face she leaned forward and touched the tip of his cock with her tongue, licking away the bead of moisture.

He whimpered in desperation, but she was relentless, she ached to prove her power over him. The excitement of knowing that he was so close to crashing uncontrollably over the edge pushed her almost to the edge herself. Something about the look in his eyes softened her a little.  

“Please,” his voice cracked like a teenager. 

For a moment she considered saving him some of the humiliation that was about to follow but her own desire was too strong. She slid her lips over his shaft. He groaned in desperation as her tongue slipped over his head. She could feel his tension as he desperately fought for control of his body. Her pussy clenched quivering as it waited for the heat of his explosion. She kept her head tilted watching him as his cock slid over her tongue and touched the back of her mouth. The first pulse came as her lips touched the top of his balls. His eyes opened wide in surprise as she wrapped her arm around his ass, stopping him from pulling away in shame. He groaned as his body spasmed uncontrollably and the second salty jet filled her mouth. Wetness streamed out of her as she felt her own shuddering climax in response. His cock muffled her own grunt of pleasure as he pulsed and quivered inside her. 

“I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry,” he repeated over and over like a mantra as the waves of pleasure died away. Only when she felt him start to soften did she release him, letting his cock slide over her lips to hang limply in front of her. Awkwardly he bent to pick up his clothes.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that but you were so sexy and then you sucked me….”

 His voice trailed away as he stood in front of her holding his clothes over his member, hiding it from her gaze.

Her smile was enigmatic, one moment she looked like a kind, older sister, forgiving her brother for stealing her candy, the next she was like a cat, willing the bird to come just a little closer so she could pounce on it. He stood rooted to the spot, desperately wanting to flee and hide in shame but unable to move. Slowly she reached over and picked up a phallic piece of glass from the bedside table and passed it to him. She lay back on the bed with her legs spread open,

“Put down those clothes, come kneel here and show me what you know about women’s vaginas.”

It wasn’t a request.

Awkwardly he knelt beside her holding the glass wand in his hand.

“I want you to touch my outer lips with the wand,” she commanded.

Awkwardly he reached down and stroked her tentatively with the smooth, cool glass. She shivered at the faintness of the touch, aching for more.

“Have you ever tasted a real woman?”

“No,” He still hid his face from her, embarrassed and afraid of not measuring up.

“Bend down and suck just that one little lip,” she instructed. “Don’t get carried away and try anything else just the lips,” she warned as he bent awkwardly.

The feel of his mouth on her was electric. His first touches were tentative like butterfly wings, she bucked her hips against his face, titillated by their fluttering touch. Eventually he became braver and sucked her labia into his mouth. Wetness streamed out of her as she moaned in pleasure.

“Now show me where you think my clit is,” she gasped. He sat back and touched the swollen hard node with the cold glass wand. She gasped at the change in sensation. He jumped back a little startled. She noted that his cock was already starting to stir and unable to stop herself she reached between her legs and stroked herself before spreading her lips wide, expertly displaying her hard node for him. She noticed his cock hardening again. Soon he would be ready to mount her so that she could pull his climax from him again. She shivered a little in anticipation. It was always better when they spurted uncontrollably inside her. Her clit throbbed feeling a little naked and exposed away from its protective hood.

“Suck me!” she commanded.

He didn’t hesitate, kneeling between her legs before taking her node against his lips with the same tentative licks and sucks as before. Her hand reached down to cradle the back of his head for a few moments before she pushed herself against his mouth encouraging his tongue to touch her firmly.

“Ahhhh!” she screamed as the orgasm ripped through her. A jet of liquid spurted over his face and he pulled away, surprised.

She smiled at him, warm from her orgasm but still hungry for more,

“Now we are even,”

He smiled disbelievingly touching his face. Not sure what to make of the juice coating his chin and mouth.

She arched her body towards him, “I want you to fuck me with that big hard cock,” She wriggled a little in anticipation as he lowered his body over hers. His cock pressed against her opening for a moment before it suddenly slid inside her. His eyes opened wide as she clenched around him. His ragged breathing was loud in her ears. The signs were there again, she knew he wouldn’t last long but she didn’t care. She was confident in her ability to arouse him over and over again so that she would be able to pull orgasm after orgasm out of him all night until he was spent and drained in the morning. The thought tipped her over the edge again.

Shut Up and Drive

A friend of mine celebrated her birthday this week. As I composed her birthday post on Facebook I included a picture of Jensen Eckles (aka Dean Winchester) because she is slightly obsessed. As I read the Wicked Wednesday prompt for this week an idea geminated. It took a little bit of water and coaxing to get the story out and if the truth be told I am still nurturing it a little but here is the first part.

Because the 1967 Chevy Impala was not just a car it was the most important object in the whole universe.Chuck Shurley – Supernatural, Episode 22

“Nice car,” the girl in the drive thru smiled perfect white teeth. As she leaned forward Jensen got a good look at a pair of perky breasts nestling inside the fast food uniform. Her fingers brushed his hand as she handed him the bag.

Jensen grinned letting his gaze rest on those perfect globes pushing out nicely against the mustard shirt, “Ohh she isn’t just a car,” He patted the dashboard. “She is the only woman who has never cheated on me.”

The girl grinned, “I’d love to get to know her better,” 

There was a horn blast from the car behind them. The door to the cashier’s cubicle opened to admit a frowning manager. Jensen took one last look at the glistening red lips and the perfectly smooth cleavage before he slid his baby into gear, “Looks like we will have to take a rain check.” 

As he drove away Jensen glanced into the rear view mirror. The manager was doing his best to berate his employee but those lips and that cleavage were working their magic. Jensen grinned to himself as he shifted gear and gave the car some gas. She purred in response.

“Baby you are the only one for me,” Jensen stroked the gear shift lovingly as the lights of the hotel came into view. The smell of the burgers filled his nostrils and made his stomach rumble. With one thing in mind he parked outside their room and grabbed the food and the beers. As he opened the door she was there, leaning on the bonnet of his car. Dark hair tumbled down over her shoulders, perfect round breasts straining at the opening of the awful mustard uniform. Jensen frowned in confusion. 

“Where did you come from?” 

She grinned, red lips parting to reveal perfect teeth, “Well when a mummy and daddy love each other very much…” 

The door of the hotel room opened and Jensen’s brother appeared in the doorway, “Where have you been? I am starving.” He stepped towards Jensen and the woman and snatched the bag of food from his brother’s hand. 

The woman raised an eyebrow, “Looks like you better go eat or you may miss out,” 

Jensen was torn; food, or this delectable woman.

As if she read his thoughts the woman lifted herself from the bonnet of his car and took a step towards him. She smelled of cherry lip gloss and some floral perfume. Jensen felt his heart race and his cock stir.  “Go eat,” her face was so close he could almost feel her lips. “We will see each other again soon.” 

And then she was gone. Like a dream. He wondered if he had imagined the whole thing. 

Three days later Jensen found himself driving down an alley near the hotel he was staying at. On the sidewalk he saw a girl walking by herself. Dark hair tumbled down her back, stopping at the waistband of a skirt that some people would call too short. What was she doing walking here? Jensen slowed as he drove past and then he recognised her.

“Hey,” he pulled the car over to the side to drive slowly beside her. 

She turned and those red lips pulled into a slow smile, “Hey there,” she stopped walking and leaned into the window of the car. 

“You know it probably isn’t good for you to be waking down this kind of street alone in the dark.” He tried desperately to keep his eyes focussed on her face. 

She laughed, “Oh the gallant knight in the pretty car is going to save the poor little lady walking all alone at night,” Her fingers trailed along the open window. Jensen squirmed a little at her teasing

“Get in the car,” his voice was rougher than he meant

“OK then,” he was surprised at her response, “but you really need to drop the macho shit,” She opened the door and slid in beside him. Her scent tickled his nostrils and he fancied that he could feel the warmth of her body. 

“Where do you want to go?” He asked as he felt his cock stirring in his jeans. What was it about this woman?

“Wherever you take me,” she leaned over and slid her hand down over his jeans. Jensen squirmed. His cock hardened under her hand and he couldn’t stop himself from looking down her blouse. Her red lips fell open a little and there was a glint in her eye that spoke straight to his groin. With nimble fingers she opened his belt and set his cock free. “I do like a man that goes commando,” she purred as her hand wrapped around his shaft.

Jensen exhaled, slumping a little in his seat to give her better access. With a sly grin she leaned down, “Bench seats are so much more convenient don’t you think?” she grinned up at him as her hand continued to stroke his cock. A drop of pre-cum glistened at the tip of his cock. Without warning she slid her red lips down over his shaft. A groan escaped Jensen’s lips as he struggled to concentrate on his driving. Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock and he felt himself tensing as his arousal grew. Almost before he could sense it the orgasm was upon him. With a huge effort of concentration he pulls the car over to the side of the road as she slid her lips to the base of his shaft to press her nose against his belly.

He tried to fight the pleasure building at the base of his cock. He wasn’t ready to cum but she was like a greedy child sucking his cock deep into her throat. His cock exploded into her mouth accompanied by a groan of pleasure. White hot jizz pulsed out of his cock sending pulses of pleasure through his whole body. It was better than any orgasm he had ever experienced. As the orgasm subsided she held his cock in her mouth drinking the last drops of his seed before letting his spent member slide out of her mouth. 

Jensen’s head lolled back over the seat as she sat up delicately wiping the side of her mouth. He felt as if he had just run a marathon, all of the energy seemed to have drained out of his body. He couldn’t even raise his head as he heard the squeak of the door opening and his mystery passenger disappeared down the dark alley. 

Just in case you need some more Chevy Impala and Dean Winchester Spam in your lives here is a great song that inspired the title

Wicked Wednesday

Hello 3am

Image by Elf-Moondance from Pixabay

Earlier in the year I was chatting with a much younger work colleague about being awake at 3am. She was horrified that I seemed so casual about it until I assured her that 3am and I were old friends. I told her that a lot of the time it doesn’t bother me but sometimes stuff happens at 3am that keeps me awake for quite a long time and that can be a bit problematic the next day when people are expecting me to be functional. 

My journey to menopause was a little different from some people’s in that a lot of peri menopause symptoms were neatly masked by the contraceptive pill. In addition, I was quite young when I became menopausal (46 years old) so a lot of peri menopause symptoms that I experienced were not recognised as such. I was diagnosed with depression by my General Practitioner in my late thirties. He never even mentioned the possibility that it was probably linked to peri menopause. He probably didn’t even consider it. For several years I took the antidepressant Pristiq which is a desvenlafaxine class of drug and works by balancing the way your body processes serotonin. At the time when my GP diagnosed me an older friend who had experienced menopause told me that the symptoms I was experiencing could be related to pre or peri menopause. I didn’t talk to my GP about this and because he never mentioned it I just accepted his diagnosis. 

Insomnia has been a feature of my life for so long I can’t remember when it started. There seems to be this blur between having a toddler who didn’t sleep all night and dealing with young children who were ill during the night. Once the children were a bit older and sleeping better the snoring started. Mr Jones suffers from sleep apnoea. The snoring wasn’t loud but what was distressing was listening for his breathing to stop so I could jolt him back to breathing again. All in all I have had many reasons not to sleep well for so long that changes in sleep patterns as a result of peri- and post menopause were difficult to identify. 

While I was taking Pristiq I insomnia was an issue. If for whatever reason I was awake at 3am and didn’t go immediately back to sleep I would toss and turn sometimes for two or three hours only to doze for a short while before the alarm went at 5am to start the day. These sessions of wakefulness were made worse because I would worry the whole time because I knew I would feel like rubbish the next day. Sometimes I would make myself get up and do some kind of task, planning a lesson, ironing even writing. Often this would be enough to settle my mind and sleep would be easier. A lot of times I didn’t have the mental power to get myself out of a warm bed, dress and begin the task. These were the times I would toss and turn and ultimately be a mess the next day. Even while all this was happening I was blaming the depression. There was never any consideration that it could be my hormones.

After several years I went back to the same GP (doctor choice in my area is not great) and asked to change medication. Not because of the sleep but that is another story. He changed me to a medication called Valdoxan which works by mimicking the pattern of melatonin. Almost immediately I noticed some changes. I still had my eyes open to say hi to 3am regularly but it didn’t bother me as much as it used to. The small amount of sleep I sometimes got was enough. Around the same time I stopped taking the contraceptive pill and have not had a period since. A hormone screen confirmed that I am post- menopausal. 

Is the change in my sleeping due to the medication or the change in my hormones or a combination of both? Even if I stop taking this medication I will likely never know. My journey to menopause was unconventional and clouded by other issues. I was 46 when the GP confirmed my menopausal status which is quite young. This is probably why my doctor didn’t really discuss menopause as a contributor to my depression or sleep issues. Additionally, as I said earlier the area I live in is not populated well with affordable high quality doctors. Often a woman has to deal with being treated by a male doctor from a very conservative cultural background. This means discussing issues like reproductive health can be awkward. Mentioning unconventional lifestyles like non-monogamy can lead to some prejudice. 

It is unlikely that I will ever really be sure if my relationship with 3am is a result of a mental health condition or if it is related to menopause. I don’t know if my mental health condition is related to menopause. I don’t think I will ever get answers because the time for seeking them has passed. What I do know is that women sharing their stories in an honest open forum is probably the best way for us to learn about this issue and become empowered. By creating the menopause diaries Marie has given women a space to share their experiences and possibly learn from each other. 

The Menopause Diaries

Money, Money, Money

Image by Goumbik from Pixabay

1. What is the most expensive thing you have purchased that was not worth the price?

I bought a pair of shoes last week. I still am not in the habit of doing regular land based things so I didn’t check the price before deciding to buy them. Not sure what was happening there but when the sales assistant rang up the price it was higher than I would have considered reasonable at the time. I didn’t have the brain space to argue so I just paid and walked out the shop. They are leather shoes and I will wear them a lot so I am just telling myself that is enough to justify the price.

2. Has money ever ruined a relationship for you?

Not really. Money is something that I use and I am relatively careful with but it isn’t something that drives life decisions for me. I haven’t had a relationship that was dictated by money issues ever so I guess I am lucky.

3. What is a cheap thing you own that just makes you SO happy?

The cardigan I am wearing as I type this. I got it from the sale rack. It was damaged but it is so soft and cuddly. I love wearing it.

4. What is the most toxic quality about you?

I have inherited some of my mother’s passive aggressive tendencies. I am relatively skilled at inducing guilt in the people who care about me. I am super conscious about not turning into her so I try really hard but it slips out sometimes.

5. Why do you not like to talk about money?

Because for many people seeing someone with something they don’t have but think they want causes them to be jealous and negative. I don’t want to be judged or thought of as a snob.

When we purchased our yacht the question a lot of my teacher friends asked was “How much did it cost?” I could hear the unspoken question of “How did you afford that?” as they asked. I never told anyone how much it was. My standard response was “Enough”. Most people were happy to leave it at that. I didn’t want to advertise to my colleagues that I work primarily for reasons other than to pay my bills.

Bonus: What is the craziest thing you have done for love?

Bought a boat that cost the same as a house, took unpaid leave from my job and spent six months sailing the Queensland coast. I got a lot out of it and it changed me for life but ultimately this voyage was about me compromising with Mr Jones.