The Traveller

Last week’s Wicked Wednesday Prompt was “Hitchhiking” I started writing this post about a friend we had encountered but life got in the way a little.

In yachting circles it is called “taking on crew”. Sometimes the crew are looking for experience aboard a yacht because they want to own their own boat. Sometimes the crew have the finance and life situation to make this happen. For these people crewing is a step on the journey they have already begun. A way to get experience and some free training. Some people don’t have finances and the idea of owning a boat is more of a dream. For them being part of a crew is like touching the dream and somehow keeping it alive. For some people they want to travel from point A to point B but they have time and they are taking the opportunity to have an adventure along the way. 

From the outside life on a yacht can seem romantic and luxurious. The reality can be quite different. Broken toilets, close living quarters, seasickness, bad weather and nowhere to escape when someone is getting on your nerves. Most yachties are men. This can make it hard for solo women who want to join the adventure. Being aboard a small space with no escape and being effectively trapped with a man can be hazardous. Especially if he is interested in more than someone to help him operate his yacht and share the cooking duties. Yachting forums and social media groups are awash with cautionary tales about women getting caught in these situations. To make it worse some of the posts from single men looking for “female only crew” are a bit ambiguous but a bit of a closer inspection makes things seem doubtful that once they have trapped their prey they are going to respect her wishes. As always it seems men take every opportunity to be a dick and try to force their desires on any woman they choose. 

For myself and Mr Jones extra crew members can have a dual purpose if they wish. We advertised on a swingers site. We were pretty transparent and we only chose people who were up for the task. But once on board the choice was theirs. We have enjoyed some very sexy times with multiple people since we purchased our yacht. The one that springs to mind first is The Second Mate. Our time with him was intense and for me satisfying. He pushed my sexual boundaries and opened my eyes to the idea that I can be more picky and in fact should be. As a sailor he was OK. Willing but not a natural. He was one of the ones that planned to own his own boat but finances did not quite meet with desire. 

Recently we met The Traveller. Whilst we are no longer travelling long distances ourselves he wanted to get experience on a yacht because, like The Second Mate, he planned to purchase his own yacht and travel. He was keen to learn about sailing and combine the experience with another activity, passion. We met at a swinger’s weekend. On our first encounter he bent me over a chair and fucked me in front of my husband and any other people who cared to watch. It was a cracking start. A promise of things to come. When we packed up and went back to reality after the weekend we exchanged numbers with plans to meet in the future. 

A few weeks later the second meeting happened. We spent a couple of nights on the water. As with our first encounter things worked. Everyone walked away satisfied. Over the course of a couple of days and memorable evenings we explored each other, learned about fantasies and pleasure spots. Words that spring to mind are lusty, willing, capable and very, very sexy. We parted, unsure of when or if we would meet again. He has a nomadic existence and does not frequent my part of the country much. 

But the planets aligned. He came on board at a jetty on an island in Moreton Bay. It was a sunny morning and Mr Jones and I were enjoying a few days remembering boat life. From the first hello there was the connection. Caressing each other as we walked past, little comments and innuendoes, quick glances that relayed promises of what was to come. We moved away from the jetty and found somewhere a little more private. It was school holiday time so there were quite a few people around. After we anchored The Traveller and myself took the opportunity to sun ourselves on the front deck. Despite the other boats in the vicinity I took off my top and sunned myself allowing the sun to kiss my bare skin. Before long our hands were on each other’s bodies and I was encouraging him to free his growing cock. Fishermen anchored close by were treated to a show of me gorging myself on his cock. All of our flirting and suggestion had taken its toll. 

“I need to fuck you.” He told me urgently. “I can’t hold back my load any longer.”

The fishermen were about to be disappointed. We retired to the cabin to be joined by Mr Jones. In line with an earlier request Mr Jones wanted to watch me be fucked closely. His request was to lie underneath while I was being fucked from behind. I kneeled with my pussy close to his face and The Traveller rested his cock against my opening, teasing us both. I was unprepared for the feeling of him sliding into me. In the weeks since we had last been together I had forgotten but he reminded me but sliding in slowly as if he wanted to remember every part of it. His hands gripped my hips and he fucked me slowly, sliding his cock almost all the way out as Mr Jones licked me. The connection we had was re-established. He fucked until he could no longer hold back sliding out to blow his load over the outside of my pussy. I listened intently, taking in his breathing, the slight groan of pleasure as my husband licked his cum from me. 

I flipped myself around so that I could impale myself on my husband. His cock was rock hard. As I leaned down to kiss him I could taste The Traveller’s cum on his lips. I smiled knowing how much he had waited for this moment. This was almost his ultimate fantasy. I could tell as I rode him that he was close to adding his own load of cum to me. The thrill of being part of this much excitement was like a drug. I could never get enough of this. His climax came quickly. A little too fast for me but it didn’t matter. I knew that this was just the entree. I had two more days with both of them. There would be many more times. 

I wasn’t disappointed. 

Wicked Wednesday

TMI Tuesday – The Very Late Edition

A little while ago I had this inspiration to write SOMETHING every day. As I typed the words telling you all about this idea I knew it would fail. And it did. But like a habit that I just can’t kick here I am again.

Photo by Kirill Balobanov on Unsplash

1. Select a kink. You’re a first-time visitor to a dungeon, and you are ‘center stage’ because a sizeable crowd has gathered to watch you:
a. Writhing from bare-hand spanking
b. Restrained on an X-cross receiving a whipping
c. Dangling in air wrapped in an ornate web of rope
d. Naked on a floor mat with 3 people pleasuring you

Staying true to form I am going with d. Probably done a version of that before. Actually the three people but not with a crowd watching although that does sound awfully fun. Dangling in the air with three people pleasuring. Now that sounds like something to add to the bucket list!

2. If you selected #4 in the last question, tell us how you are pleasured?

Person A would have his face buried in my cunt. Person B would have his cock in my throat and Person C would be holding me and tantalising my nipples. Perhaps with some nibbling and a little pinching.

3. Bind, blind, tease. Write a 50-word story and include those 3 words.

Ropes on my wrists, holding me against the mattress. Fabric on my face obscuring my view. The feeling of your fingers stroking me causing me to arch against the mattress. Your lips nibble my breast as your fingers slide downwards. I moan as your fingers slide inside me. I feel your breath on my face but I cannot feel your body. My senses search for you, but I am restrained. My need is like an ache.

“Please”

4. Sex Doll play: The ‘doll’ is the human version of an inflatable sex doll.
The ‘doll’ must lie completely still on a bed and let their partner have at it. The partner is free to control the doll’s body and movements, and do what they please. Which will you be–the doll or the doll-master? Why?

Another item for the fucket list! A longer standing fantasy is to find a strong capable man to act out the sex doll fantasy with. Of course I am the doll. To be played by a person with skill and confidence…

mmmMondays

Sunsets Are Like Snowflakes

During my school holidays Mr Jones and I took some time to head out on the yacht for a few days of relaxing and reminiscing about our time aboard last year. We took and posted on Twitter several #travellingboob photos. Mr Jones commented that sunset boob shot is very much like another and people would be starting to get bored of them. My twitter followers disagreed. One told me that each shot was like a snowflake, different and special in it’s own way.

What do you think?

Boob Day

Today’s Word – FOMO

OK so FOMO is an acronym rather than a word but it is what today is about for me. We are in day 2 of the Easter weekend which for Australians is a four day weekend. Traditionally many Australians take the opportunity to have a mini holiday often featuring camping or visits to the beach. For us winter is approaching. Days are getting shorter, mornings and evenings are just that little bit cool and we are reminded that it could be our last chance to enjoy the great outdoors.

The situation with my parents is a bit weird. They live a six hour drive away from me. Visiting for holidays like Easter and Christmas is not just popping over for dinner it is an Odyssey. It involves visiting for at least two days or back to back six hour drives. Add the guilt, the stupid mind games and general negativity that my mother generates by being a toxic person and Easter and Christmas frequently have the joy sucked out of them.

As we were planning this visit I was being positive about it. It is necessary, it means I have don’t my duty and I will be able to be free for a while. Our lifestyle friends were attending a camp which sounded much more fun but I made the conscious decision to do the right family thing. It just so happened that the campsite was on the way to where we were going to visit my family. So we took a detour to visit for an hour or so.

Whilst the visit itself was enjoyable and meant that we could connect with some people we hadn’t seen for a while it was also a little frustrating. We couldn’t stay even though it looked fun. Today I hit the point where I realised that you can make the most of a bad situation but in the end it is a bad situation. The whole day I have been thinking about the camp we visited and wishing that I was there.

Next year.

Happy Easter everyone.

Thirty Dirty Questions – Question 25

I am determined to finish this series. It has been over a year!! If you want to catch up on the questions so far my Thirty Dirty Questions page has all the links.

How often do you masturbate and what works best for you?

I was raised a Catholic and sex was not talked about in our house at all. Other than the cautionary “don’t do it”. In addition my mother was very critical of mine, and almost everyone else’s body. She frequently judged people about their weight. It made me very self conscious and private about my own body. I lived quite a long way from town and had very few friends that I could share any thoughts or ideas about sex, bodies, growing up etc. Even when I went to boarding school I struggled to make friends and certainly never talked about sex with anyone. In those days the internet and smart phones were a thing of the future. Learning about sex without a social network or a parent who was willing to talk to you was almost impossible. 

I did overhear conversations between other girls and gained snippets from magazines when I was allowed to buy them and so I did learn to masturbate. I had really very little idea about exactly what I was doing but I did know that I enjoyed it. I remember at one stage I got a bit of a sleep association happening and struggled to fall asleep at night without an orgasm. Not really a good situation when you are sharing a dormitory with six or seven other girls. 

As an adult I didn’t invest in a vibrator or any other sex toy until I was given one by a boyfriend. For some reason I never really took to toys. I just didn’t feel comfortable. Probably because I didn’t really feel comfortable with my body or sexuality in general. This awkward feeling about toys also extended to masturbating. I felt that when I was in a relationship I should be getting sexual gratification from having sex with my partner. Masturbating was admitting that we were getting it wrong. Consequently it was infrequent.

Fast forward to now. I still don’t masturbate frequently. I guess a lifetime of habit and ingrained negativity is still having an impact. I do feel more confident these days but I still find it hard to get alone time to enjoy this activity. Mutual masturbation is not something that is part of my regular couple sex diet. 

So what happens when I am alone? Well I do have a go-to toy. A glass dildo that Mr Jones bought me as a valentines gift a few years ago. There is something about the weight and rigidity that works for me. I still use a finger to stimulate my clitoris and use the toy to penetrate and press against my g-spot. In line with lifelong habit masturbating is usually a means to an end for me. I don’t take time to enjoy or edge. Get the job done, enjoy the warmth and relax for a while. Sometimes even enjoy a short nap. 

Boring I know. 

Wet

At first there is a gentle touch

My skin responds

Gooseflesh raising the hairs on my arms

Your breath is warm on my neck

You give a gentle nibble

Strong fingers penetrate me

You bend me over the stairs and pull down my panties

There is no waiting just penetration

The thrill of feeling you inside me never gets old

Fucking me slowly

Hands gripping my hips

Fucking me faster, harder

Until you release

It is satisfying

But I want more

Wicked Wednesday

TMI Tuesday – Love and Money

1. Could you fall in love with and set up home with someone who has $100,000 (usd) in debt?

Mr Jones says: They would have to be fucking awesome in bed.

Gemma Says: If they expect me to help them pay it back then probably not. If it is going to affect our long term financial stability then I would be hesitant.

2. Is it important for you to be the breadwinner or make more money than your significant other?

Mr Jones says: No but sometimes the power imbalance can cause some issues in the relationship.

Gemma Says: It is normal in our society for men to earn more than women. So If it is important for a woman to earn more than her partner it is going to seriously limit their relationship choices.

3. Are you happy with your chosen career path? What could be better?

I am. At this point in my life I am working at the career of my choice. I moved schools last year to work with the type of students I feel connected to and with a style of education that I feel is practical and works for them. The only thing that I think about changing is if I continue to work or perhaps semi retire. Spending six months travelling last year and living the life of a retired person has made me consider it as a more viable long term option.

4. Would you start a business with your significant other? Why or why not?

No. Not unless you count joint investments. It isn’t that I don’t think it works but I don’t think Mr Jones and I have complimentary skill sets that would work to run a business together. And eventually the stress on not being able to work as a fully effective team would be detrimental to our relationship.

Bonus: Can money buy you love?

No. Money makes life easier and definitely gives you better choices but it isn’t the thing that makes a person either capable of loving or being loveable.

Table

For Boobday on Friday I posted an image of a table I had been restoring. As I was working on this project a germ of a story was planted.

“Look at this!” Shelli exclaimed as she pulled the drop sheet away from the table sitting in the back of the shed. Dust billowed into the air making Pete sneeze as he came to investigate her find. Even in the dim light of the dusty shed the table seemed to dominate. Pete ran his fingers over the wood admiring the solid construction. 

“You don’t see furniture like this anywhere these days.”  

The wood was dark with age and grime from years of use. Years of being part of the family that lived here before the farm was abandoned after a long drought. Like everything here, the table held stories of better days and dreams for a future that never eventuated. 

“This will look amazing in the dining room,” Shelli’s enthusiasm was infectious.

“I agree, let’s get it outside.” 

Together they lugged the surprisingly heavy table out into the sunlight. “Man I didn’t think it would be THAT heavy,” Shelli leaned against the furniture breathing heavily as Pete inspected their find more closely in the daylight.

Despite the dust and grime Pete could see that the timber was unusual.

“I wonder what it is made of,” he mused as he brushed away dust and scratched the surface with his fingernail. A layer of oil mixed with dirt filled his nail but he was unable to make an indent in the timber itself. Close inspection revealed evidence of saw marks indicating that the planks may have been hewn by hand. 

“It is definitely hardwood,” Shelli concurred. 

“I think it is home made.” Pete continued his inspection admiring the solid way the table was constructed. “Whoever made it wanted to make sure it lasted.” 

Over the next few weeks the table became one of the many projects Pete and Shelli tackled as they worked to bring order and life into their new home. They knew a little of the sad story. The farm was owned by an older lifelong farmer who had inherited the property from his own father. He had lost his wife to cancer and continued to live and work in the only place he had ever known until a tragic accident had taken his life. His adult children could not agree about how to continue running the farm or how to arrange finances. In the end a long drought had decreased the value so much that the family had been unable to sell and had simply walked away. They had stripped the house of anything of value and piled unwanted furniture into the shed. Everything else was left where it stood. Fencing wire and old machinery rusted in the paddock. 

As she scrubbed and sanded the table Shelli reflected on the history of the table. She imagined the original owner constructing the table specifically for the dining room of their newly built house. Her mind wandered to meals shared by the farmer and his wife after long hard days of work. Of stories told and games played with children who followed. Of Christmas dinners shared and birthdays celebrated. How this table saw the children grow up and perhaps even bring their own children to sit at the table to be part of family celebrations. Deep inside she wanted to honour the family by following this tradition. To make the table the centre of her own family and her and Pete’s dreams. 

Eventually the table was finished. The dining room was cleaned and painted. Pete and Shelli lugged it up the steps and through the door. Finally the table was back where it belonged. To mark the occasion Shelli cooked a roast dinner with meat from their own cattle. The first beast they grew. The whole evening was symbolic of a new beginning. New life being breathed into the buildings of the old farm. The air was filled with possibility. 

Pete sat at the head of the table. Perhaps the farmer who had died had sat in that very spot every evening. When the meal was finished Shelli cleared away their plates stacking them neatly to ferry them to the sink for washing. There was no money or spare electricity for dishwashers here. Pete’s hand slid up Shelli’s thigh as she leaned forward to remove the salt and pepper. 

“Someone is frisky tonight,” she smiled back at her husband. 

“How could I not be?” He responded with his own grin. “Fantastic meal, beautiful wife. Who is hot as fuck.” His fingers slid under the elastic of her panties. “And I believe she is as horny as me.”

Shelli leaned further forward to retrieve a teacup, “I swear I have no idea what you are talking about.” Her skirt lifted higher as Pete’s fingers dipped into her wet opening. 

“Really?” He asked as he moved his face close enough to inhale the scent of her.

“Absolutely! Unnff,” She collapsed on the table as his fingers stroked her opening. Her legs spread wider as he pushed his fingers deep inside her, finding the places he knew would make her weak at the knees. Groans of pleasure filled the dining room as she writhed in pleasure, completely at his mercy. Liquid trickled down his fingers sending a jolt straight to his cock. 

Without speaking he stood up from his chair and unzipped his pants. His cock sprang free throbbing with desire for his wife. With his tongue touching his lips Pete pulled aside Shelli’s sodden panties. There was a sound of stitches tearing but he didn’t care. All he cared about right now was burying himself deep inside her.

As his cock touched her she backed against him eagerly her desire matched his as he gripped her hips pumping hungrily. From the first thrust he knew he would not be able to last. She was so amazing, her arse was so full and round, slapping against his belly. He could feel the familiar pressure of his seed pressing against the base of his cock, clamouring to fill her. He held as long as he could but it was not long. With a loud groan he pumped his load into her. His strong fingers gripped her hips, she held herself against him eagerly welcoming his jizz. 

His body collapsed over hers, a slight sheen of sweat formed on his back as he revelled in the warmth of her body and the smell of their sex. After a few moments he started to worry about his weight on top of her and he stood up to free her. His cock slid out of her and a dribble of his cum formed on her leg. Shelli squeezed her legs together.

“I don’t want to lose any,” she whispered against the tablecloth.

Pete smiled fondly and caressed the line of her back making her shiver, “Why not?”

“I want to grow more than just cows.” She looked at him with a sly look on her face, “This table is too big for just two people.” 

Wicked Wednesday
mmmMondays

Assume the Position

Mr Jones and myself are taking the opportunity of Easter school holidays to spend a few days out on the yacht enjoying beautiful Moreton Bay. For the first few days it is just the two of us but for the last couple of days we will be joined by a gentleman who has sailed with us before. In anticipation I sent him this image with the message; “I am in position and waiting.”

Sinful Sunday