Attack of the Fifty Foot Women

The prompt for this week’s Wicked Wednesday was to write a post that started from a comment on your blog. In response to a recent Sinful Sunday post No Pants Endurance commented; “The way the photo is set gives me the illusion of the fifty foot woman”. And so here is the attack of the Fifty Foot Women.

“Hello I am Hank,” he had to almost shout over the noise of the club

“My name is Glenda,” she reached out to shake his hand.

“Can I get you a drink?” Inside he kicked himself for sounding so lame but really he didn’t know what else to say. Plus, he felt weird standing there in front of the lounge where she sat with her friends.

Glenda leaned towards the woman sitting next to her. They whispered for a moment before she turned to face him.

“As long as you get one for my friend Wanda,” The two women looked at him with a glitter in their eye that made Hank nervous. Despite his trepidation he shook off the feeling and made his way to the bar.

An hour later the shot glasses were piled all around. A warm feeling filled Hank as he sat wedged between Glenda and Wanda with their other friends Amelia, Maya and Jenna all laughing at everything Hank said. He didn’t know what had happened. Normally women shunned him, laughing at his height, his haircut, pretty much everything about him. This was so out of the ordinary that Hank kept waiting to wake up from the dream.

“Let’s go somewhere a bit more intimate,” Glenda gathered her purse.

All the other women followed suit. As they stood up Hank felt his jaw drop. He felt as if he was a warthog surrounded by a herd of giraffes. These women were enormous. He knew when he stood up that he would barely reach their armpit, or rather their breasts. Glenda was an inch or two taller than the others. A mental image of standing in front of her with her crotch at his eye level filled his head. He stayed sitting on the couch, unsure of what to do next.

“Are you coming?” Glenda beckoned to him. Again, there was that strange glitter in her eye. For a second Hank considered running away but Maya reached out her hand,

“We won’t eat you,” she smiled gently.

Courage, or at least Dutch courage, filled Hank and he stood to his full height of five feet. As he suspected he came up to the armpit of Maya, the shortest one, and his eyeline was just above Glenda’s navel.

“You are so cute,” Jenna cooed. “I love little guys, they are so fun to play with,”

“Behave Jenna,” Glenda chided fondly. “We don’t want to scare our new friend,” She reached out to take Hank’s hand, “Don’t listen to her, she is just being weird.”

Hank nodded and trotted along beside her still feeling like a warthog amongst giraffes.

Twenty minutes later Hank found himself at the apartment that Glenda shared with Wanda. The girls obviously spent a lot of time here, they kicked off their shoes and dropped their purses on the counter. Glenda, Wanda, and Jenna disappeared into bedrooms while Maya and Amelia busied themselves making drinks and choosing music to play on the big screen. Hank stood awkwardly in the middle of the lounge area unsure of what to do or what to expect.

After a short while the three girls re-emerged wearing short silky nightwear. They smiled at Hank as they walked towards him. Glenda took his hand and led him towards the couch that dominated the room. She pulled him down beside her and kissed him on the lips. Hank melted into her embrace, fumbling around her breasts. Without a word she took one of his hands and slid it inside the top of her pyjamas. From behind him Hank felt another hand sliding into his pants to reach around and grip his cock. Jenna’s voice breathed in his ear,

“Well, hello there. I am so glad you have come to play with us.” Her perfume was intoxicating as she kissed the side of his neck. Hank watched mesmerised as Glenda and Jenna kissed before they turned their attentions to him. First one kissed him then the other. Jenna’s hand slid slowly up and down Hank’s shaft and Glenda massaged his hand over her breast encouraging him to pinch her firm nipples.

A third set of hands moved over his torso caressing his own nipples tweaking them gently.

“I think we need to relieve Hank of some of his clothes,” Wanda’s voice was soft in his other ear. Her fingers nimbly unbuttoned his shirt, and he felt a cool rush of air over his naked skin. Glenda trailed kisses down the side of his neck as she helped Wanda remove his shirt. Wanda’s lips mirrored Glenda’s as each woman’s lips made their way to Hank’s nipples. Lips teased his nipples and teeth grazed over the sensitive buds as Hank’s hands were pushed against breasts before Wanda shoved his hand into her pyjama pants.

As Hank slid his fingers into Wanda’s slick wet pussy, he felt his pants being unzipped and his cock eased out of his underwear. Glenda took Hank’s other hand and shoved it against her pussy as she kissed Wanda above Hank. Wet lips slid down over his throbbing cock. Hank let out a strangled moan as his fingers dipped in and out of two pussies. Glenda moved so that she was kneeling over his face. Her pussy was like a vision as it lowered towards his lips.

Obediently reached his tongue upwards and stroked her pussy. She tasted amazing, clean, and salty. Like a man who has been starving he gulped at her as she ground down on his tongue. Wet lips moved up and down his cock and he was aware of women pressing their bodies against him. It felt as if he were covered in them, smothered by their scent, their breasts, their mouths, and their desire.

Somehow, he found himself on the thick rug covered by five giant women. His tiny body seemed to disappear into them. Each woman pleasured him in her own way. All of them partook of each other. Their height meant nothing. Lying down they all were the same height.

One thing Hank knew for certain. He would forever have a thing for tall women.

Wicked Wednesday

The Effect of Greedy Lucy

Last week for MMMMonday I wrote a story about a very naughty girl who had an excellent time with a group of friends on a boys weekend. The scenario came from the mind of Mr Jones so he was very happy when I put it into words. I am happy that I was around to record his response…

So many things about this situation are yummy.

  1. Being connected enough to be able to enhance on his fantasy
  2. Knowing he enjoyed reading my work
  3. Watching his response
  4. Sharing his response with you all

I hope wherever you are there is something in your day that makes you say MMM.

I missed the deadline for MMMonday Link party but absolutely click on the button and find some other MMM

mmmMondays

Or see who else is being Wicked this week

Wicked Wednesday

Carmen and Ryan Part 8: Keeping Secrets

It has been a while since I have had the time and brain space to work on the story of Carmen and her younger lover, Ryan. At the end of the last installment Carmen had enjoyed a “meeting” with a young attractive sales representative. Her work colleagues suspect she has “something going on” but so far have not been able to uncover her secret.

At the door of the medical centre Carmen steeled herself for the onslaught when she entered. She was disappointed. Jenny was busy with a patient and Carmen was able to slip past her. In her office she became engrossed in emails and phone messages. Just because it was Friday everyone thought that their issue HAD to be resolved before the end of the day. Time passed quickly before she was interrupted by Jenny,

“So what is the goss with the AmpliMed guy?”

Carmen continued typing her email and didn’t look up at Jenny. She hoped that this ruse would send Jenny back to her desk. It didn’t work, Jenny invited herself in and sat on the chair opposite Carmen’s desk.

“I am not going away,” Jenny leaned forward so that Carmen was unable to keep ignoring her. “Is that guy the one you have been banging?”

Carmen stopped typing and gave Jenny her full attention. Even taking into consideration Jenny’s ability to gossip this was a leap. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Well, it is pretty obvious you have been banging someone, and the way you went all doe eyed when he turned up seemed like it was likely to be him.”

Carmen took a moment to digest this information. It was an interesting conclusion. She allowed herself to wonder what the outcome would be if she let Jenny keep thinking this. It might be easier than explaining to her that she was “banging” one of her son’s friends.

“What makes you think I am BANGING, as you say, someone?” Carmen asked. She didn’t think she had been acting THAT differently.

“It is so freaking obvious,” Jenny grinned at her, “The distant smile, constantly checking your phone, and when he walked in you were like a bitch on heat.”

Carmen squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She felt as if Jenny had been reading her mind earlier. She HAD been like a bitch on heat. Or more accurately like a cougar on the prowl. Something in her HAD changed since her encounters with Ryan. It was like a switch had been flicked in her body and she saw every meeting with an attractive man as an opportunity to fuck like an animal. He mind wandered back to a memory of being wrapped around Ryan while his cock was buried deep inside her. Warmth flooded through her belly. Under her desk she pressed her thighs together. If she didn’t see him soon she didn’t know how she would be able to cope.

“So?” Jenny’s persistence was amazing. Carmen wavered. It would be good to confide in someone. Are you freaking serious! Sensible Carmen jolted her back into reality. Carmen was reminded that Jenny was not a person to trust as a confidante. Anything she told Jenny would be common knowledge among all the other receptionists within a day.

Carmen smiled, she hoped in a way that didn’t make Jenny think anything too outrageous. “A lady never kisses and tells.” She turned back to her computer screen, “Now don’t make me push you out of my office.”

Jenny lingered a little while longer, but Carmen refused to acknowledge her presence. Carmen knew that there would be gossip, Jenny would not be able to help herself, but she hoped that it would be vague enough that it wouldn’t get her into serious trouble. Besides what if she WAS banging the AmpliMed Rep? She was single, as far as she knew so was he, they were adults. As long as she didn’t start ordering stupid amounts of stuff from him there was no problem.

A message flashed onto the screen of Carmen’s phone. Her heart skipped hoping it would be Ryan, she was a little disappointed.

Looking forward to tonight.  Her friend Liz sent.

Carmen smiled. Liz would be the person to confide in. She would listen and reassure her. A much better choice of confidante than Jenny. Carmen felt herself relax and refocus on her work. Thoughts of Ryan and Corey were pushed to the back of her mind as Carmen dived into the tasks she needed to finish before closing her office for the weekend.

To re-visit earlier posts all of the links can be found on the Ryan and Mrs B Page

Thirty Dirty Questions- Q4

Question 4: What do you think about when you masturbate?

This is an interesting question. I don’t masturbate a lot. I grew up in a repressed Catholic environment. Sex was not discussed. Touching yourself was strongly discouraged. Anything to do with exploring your body was strongly discouraged. As an adult I have gotten past a lot of hurdles related to this up bringing but masturbating is not one of them.

I guess part of my aversion to it has been re-enforced by the pop culture stereotype of men masturbating because they could not have real sex. Somewhere in the twisted canals of my brain the idea that masturbating is the desperate furtive act of a person denied their sexual needs took root. My Catholic upbringing also attempted to entrench in me that women should not enjoy sex. This idea did not take root thankfully but I was very cautious about displaying my rejection of it. Because there is this idea in the world of popular culture that women shouldn’t appear to like sex but a good wife will provide it. So her man doesn’t have to masturbate???

OK so I had some twisted ideas that stayed with me until I was well into my thirties. I don’t even want to discuss the “blue pill” thinking that dominated my early marriage. I am past a lot of that now but I still don’t masturbate a lot. Privacy is a problem in our house. I have two adult children who don’t always understand the concept of privacy. Along with two elderly parents who also just trot on into our part of the house when it suits them. Getting time to myself when I know I won’t be interrupted to relax and do something like masturbating it is very infrequent.

As I get older and read more blogs, I am becoming more relaxed about it. But the time when I am most likely to masturbate is when I can’t sleep. This process is just a way to get my body to relax. I love the afterglow feeling which I also get with sex. The difference with sex is often I don’t get to lie quietly and enjoy it until I go to sleep. There is other people and other things happening.

What do I think about when I do masturbate? I don’t have a go to scenario or story. Sometimes I think about activities that I would like to try. Double penetration for example. I fantasise about being taken from behind while I am riding Mr Jones. Other times my fantasies are about domination. Or about being in control of my partner and making him fulfil my every wish with no guilt about not pleasing him. I have not taken a man’s arse for a long time but it does entice me. I love the thought of holding a beautiful arse in my palms as I penetrate him. I have the power. There are others but often they are fragmented and fleeting. They don’t stay in my mind long enough to take root.

Sometimes I think about a recent encounter with a lover. Images of their face or the sound of their pleasure trigger a response in me. I remember the feeling of their hands on me or their face pressed between my thighs. Replaying favourite moments of time together is enticing and can give me deep pleasure.

And with that I think I may need some alone time.

If you want to read answers to other questions you can use the links at my Thirty Dirty Questions page to find related posts.

Friday Flashback – Anticipation

Ok, so it isn’t Friday but I put this post together a while ago and only just got a chance to activate it.

The sight of the skirt laid out on the bed made Chrissy’s heart skip a beat. Everything that had happened during her day faded into background noise as she stood looking at the dull gleam of the leather. Her eyes slid over to the silver clock on the bedside table. It took moments for her to process the time and realise what that meant. She had a schedule to meet, she was expected to be prepared thoroughly and correctly and most importantly, punctually. The sight of the skirt was just the beginning.

She peeled off her clothes and deposited them in the hamper before she stepped into the bathroom. Standing naked in front of the sink she picked up her pink razor and began to methodically and thoroughly to remove all of the hair on her body, paying particular attention to the short dark hairs on her pubic mound. She spent extra moments smoothing the soft sensitive skin there, making sure that every hair had been removed. Before she realised what she was doing her fingers slipped inside her slit. The feel of her hot wet cunt was almost too much to resist. It took more than a little willpower to stop herself from exploring further into her slick wet folds but she knew the consequences of indulging. With a firm determination she removed her hand.

 According to the routine set out for her she made the shower very hot. Steam billowed up, filling the bathroom as she eased her body under the stinging needles of the shower. Obediently she scrubbed herself with the exfoliator thoroughly as the hot water turned her skin a bright, glowing pink. Only when she had scrubbed from head to toe did she turn the water off and step out of the steam filled cubicle tingling all over. When she was dry she picked up the moisturiser and rubbed her entire body with lotion, paying particular attention to the skin on her ass and thighs.

Nervously she glanced at the clock on the bedside table as she began to dress herself. Sir was never, ever late and she knew that he would be less than pleased if she was not ready when he arrived. She left the skirt until last, donning the white blouse making sure all of the buttons were fastened, right up to the neck. Next was the suspender belt and stockings, she took a precious minutes adjusting the seams, making sure they were perfectly straight before she stepped into the patent leather pumps. Finally, the one garment that hadn’t left her mind since she had stepped into the bedroom earlier. Almost reverently she slipped it over her head and slid it into place. With great care she made sure all the fasteners were in place before she stepped in front of the mirror to check that she hadn’t missed anything. She resisted turning to get a glimpse of her back; she wasn’t ready to see her bare butt exposed by the cut of her skirt. She didn’t want to dwell too much on what lay ahead.

Shivering she stood in front of Him, eyes downcast, waiting for his instruction. Her nipples strained against the thin fabric of her blouse, her knees trembled slightly. It took all of her will not to clench her bare buttocks as he walked around her, inspecting her. For a second his hand rested on the naked skin framed by the skirt he had gotten made especially for her. Especially so that he could look at her beautiful ass while she was fully dressed. Especially because he knew how much she loved the feel of his hand on her ass and it pleased him to think that when she was dressed this way she was always on edge, waiting for the sting of his palm or something else.

What pleased him even more was the knowledge she loved the pain as much as she loved the pleasure of his tongue on her clit. Sometimes the feel of a firm hand on her ass while he had his cock buried deep inside her made her cum so hard she pushed his cock out of her.

With one finger he stroked her perfectly groomed hair before gently placing the collar around her neck. At the feeling of the soft leather her heart started racing, almost uncontrollably. The lead clicked into the clasp at the front of her neck, she tilted her head up a little to let her eyes rest on his face for a moment, and she noted the approval and a hint of lust in his eyes. The clamour of her groin became almost unbearable. Nothing else mattered to her now. Anything could happen to her tonight, any pain, any indignity was repaid by the pleasure she got from knowing he wanted her.  

Black Datex Spanking Skirt

TMI Tuesday – The Good Life Edition

1. What is an ideal weekend for you?

An ideal weekend would consist of some serious play time that included about two hours of continuous sex of some form, a large portion would involve fucking. Some time spent on the boat in a sunny part of Moreton Bay being at least semi naked in the sun and time to sleep and recover from the fucking.

2. What is the craziest job you would consider taking?

There are many people in the world who think I am crazy for doing the job I do now. Although I find it mostly rewarding. Despite frequent rants about troublesome students and Central Leadership making stupid unrealistic demands.

Apart from this job the craziest job I have considered was working as a scientist for the summer season in Antarctica. I was much younger then. I didn’t get very far through the application process before I realised it probably wasn’t for me.

3. Where would you rate yourself as a kisser on a scale of 1 to 10? (10 being the best kisser ever!)

I am OK at kissing. I wouldn’t call myself great so maybe a 6 or 7.
A play friend I knew once had this feedback system going where you gave him a rating about certain skills he felt were important. Maybe I should start something like that.

4. What do you like most and least about your significant other’s cooking?

The think I like most about Mr Jones’ cooking is that when he does it I don’t have to. Don’t get me wrong, I generally LIKE cooking. What I don’t like is having to think about WHAT to cook after a day of work and having to plan what I need to buy to do said cooking.

What do I like least about Mr Jones cooking? That when it is his turn to cook I often end up doing the planning and decision making that is the part I don’t like about having to cook myself.

5. How has smartphone photography changed your world?

I am not sure if smartphone photography changed my world a lot. Certainly during the early years of my marraige and parenthood a physical camera was a big part of my life. Since having a smartphone I did move away from needing a separate item just to take photos.

A hiking trip that involved rock hopping accross a creek and a swim for my phone has convinced me that for our current, water based, adventure that I would invest in a waterproof camera. I do not regret my choice but I do still use my phone.

Bonus: What is a good life?

To me a good life is one that has been well lived. In doing this a person has achieved their goals, and been happy and productive. I don’t believe a person can be productive if they have not contributed to making the world a better place. Just accumulating stuff or satisfying your personal whims is not enough.

This post is part of this week’s TMI Tuesday. To see who else is sharing click on the icon below.

TMI Tuesday blog

Toxic Masculinity

My friend Mike over at Marriage Sex and More often writes about his journey through changing his approach to his sex life. This journey has taken him from being a classic “blue pill” thinker to more of a “red pill” guy. The resulting change in attitude and confidence has resulted in a complete 180 degree turn around in many areas of his life in particular his marriage. As a woman I find his ideas a little confronting. As a wife I find myself nodding along. For men who are in marriages that are sexless and unsatisfactory what he has to say is invaluable. Confronting but invaluable.

Mike’s idea of “Blue pill” vs “Red pill” thinking is interesting. In his view “blue pill” thinking is taking on pressures placed on men, often by feminists, to be more sensitive and to suppress men’s tendencies to be strong, and in some ways dominating. A blue pill guy is married to the system, does every thing he can to meet his wife’s demands, all the while complaining that he never gets enough sex and that women are bitches. Mike’s reformation came about when he refused to be the sensitive new age guy type and became a “Red pill” thinker. Strong, happy with himself and more in control of his life. I have summarised here, you really need to read the way he explains it.

Blue Pill or Red Pill

As I read a recent post summarising the changes in his approach and his wife’s approach to oral sex many things resonated with me. I come across men every day in the world of the internet who are dealing with being sexually repressed in one way or another. All of them will complain at length about their wives not being on board with their sexual fantasies. All of them tell me that they are keen to be amazing in bed, that they love licking pussy, that they have endless stamina yada yada.

While I have not tested them all I have enough experience to tell you that

They

are

lying

to me, to their wives, to themselves.

When it comes to licking pussy most men are, well, pussies. They will do it for a short while as a means to get to the main course. Once they have ticked the box, they don’t go back. They don’t listen to subtle direction, they don’t assess how their partner is responding and they don’t give the impression that they are actually enjoying it. When it comes to the main course, again it is all about them hitting their goals. Stamina is relative. For some five minutes is a long time to have sex. And yes it can be a long time if you are fucking someone who is using you as a place to shove their dick.

It is a generalisation but many of the men I encounter who are using a poor sex life as an excuse for cheating have one thing in common. They do not take responsibility for their problem. They see themselves as a victim. Blue pill thinking. Everything in their life is someone else’s fault. Mostly their wife’s. This goes further to them thinking they are owed something. That the other women they are seeking are going to just fit with their fantasies, ideas and availability. In short, she is going to supply him with everything he wants that he is not getting now. Because, of course, if one woman is refusing to comply she is definitely the one with the problem.

A casual read of Mike’s posts might lead a man to think that paying scant attention to what his woman wants is all part of the Red Pill mentality. That to be a Red pill man all you have to do is focus on demanding what you want and it will come along. There is no such thing as a free lunch. Just demanding what you want in a loud voice is the kind of thing a two year old does. If his parent is doing their job they will promptly remind their entitled child that life is not about waiting for your privileges to fall from the sky it is about EARNING them. The focus is not on what you WANT but what you ARE.

Instead of complaining that your wife is not attracted to you how about considering making yourself more attractive to her? There have been times when I have had to look at myself. I fell in the blue pill rabbit hole and felt that Mr Jones was not doing it for me. A good hard look in the mirror told me I was also not doing it for HIM. It has taken time and much trial and error but these days I have a reasonably good idea of what does it for him (I think). The question is mostly not what to do but motivating myself to make the effort. Because it does take effort.

Mr Jones often talks about the cycle of not being attractive. How one partner’s inadequacy feeds the inadequacy of the other and around and around it spirals. His idea is correct. Breaking the cycle is hard. It takes one partner to go out on a limb. Of course if the other doesn’t follow then you are possibly flogging a dead horse. It is just a question of how long you want the limb to be and if they don’t follow do you go back to where you were or move on?

At the end of the day marriage is not a free ride. There is never a time to coast and there is never a time to lie back and be worshipped as a perfect specimen of a spouse. Good relationships take work. Sometimes the rewards are not instant. Sometimes the rewards are not exactly what you wanted. But do you honestly want to be a victim at the mercy of other people? Is that really what you want?

TMI Tuesday – Easter Weekend Edition

In Australia Easter is traditionally a four day weekend. There are usually school holidays either side depending on when Easter happens. Many people take the opportunity to go camping or have a short get away with their family. Plans in the Jones house have been rather topsy turvey due to a lot of factors; a snap three day lockdown, our upcoming six month yacht expedition and the weather no less.

Whatever is happening in your part of the world I hope that you and yours enjoy some time with each other and create happy memories.

Image by anncapictures from Pixabay

And so on to this week’s questions

1 Would you rather have sex with someone who never showers or someone who never brushes their teeth?

I teach teenagers. They frequently stink. Some classrooms seem to have the stink of teenage body odour permeated into the paint and the floor covering. It always hits you when you first walk in but after a while you seem to forget it. Particularly if something is happening to distract you.

Bad breath on the other hand is overpowering. Nothing can make me forget that smell. Or stop me from cringing. I would choose body odour every time. You could always use a position like doggy style where you don’t have to be close to them.

2 Would you rather have only have sex in the shower for the rest of your life or only have sex on the floor for the rest of your life?

I have never really been a huge fan of shower sex. It just doesn’t cut it for me. Foreplay in the shower 100% yes. Maybe a little penetration sometimes but always in the shower? Nope it would become frustrating if that was the only way I was ever having sex. I need a surface I can lean against securely because when I have sex I like to be completely focussed on what is happening to me, not concentrating on not slipping or maintaining a position that is a little awkward.

3 Would you rather cry every time you have sex or burp every time you kissed?

Crying is something I am coming to terms with as I get older and my hormones become more messed up. Burping is something I know is unavoidable but would over time make me avoid kissing.

4 Would you rather find out the last person you had sex with was your long lost cousin or a brutal serial killer?

That would depend on how good the sex was. If it was mediocre then it doesn’t matter, I didn’t die, I didn’t make a child, I won’t feel compelled to go there again.

If it was mind blowing I would just be annoyed that I couldn’t go there again.

Bonus would you rather always say what you think or never say anything.

Saying what you think is something that is very important for maintaining your integrity. Certainly there are times when you can keep your ideas to yourself and it will make everyone happier but in many of those situations it IS possible to say what you think without being offensive. It is all about the phrasing. For example when an acquaintance told me she and her family were buying a house a VERY long way from her work, her husband’s work, their children’s schools and most of the people they were friends with at the time my thoughts were;

“Have you lost your mind?” with some expletives thrown in.

What I said was “Oh, that is a long way from everything.” I don’t know if she realised what I thought. I am sure she didn’t care. I believe I did say what I was thinking, it was just phrased more tactfully. Besides I can always vent here.

To see who else is sharing their thoughts click on the image below.

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.

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.

Hot alley bang

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.