Shave

Wicked Wednesday

This week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt was “Body Hair”. I have made a commitment to myself that I would only use the prompt to write erotica and so it took me a while to come up with something that fitted with the prompt. I think I missed the deadline for inclusion in the link list but that doesn’t matter, you all get to enjoy some word porn anyway.

Of course as usual you can always check out the variety of entries by visiting the Wicked Wednesday page.

Gravel crunched under Howard’s feet as he walked up the small pathway to her back door. It can’t have been more than a dozen steps from where he parked his bike to the doorway but it seemed like a journey of a million miles. When he reached the back door he stood silently for a moment. Anticipation of the hours he was about to experience warred with nerves. Possible scenarios of failure crowded into his mind; What if his cock didn’t work? What if he couldn’t pleasure her? What if he tripped and fell through the back door?

He could see her through the glass sliding door, moving around in the kitchen. She was dressed in house clothes, nothing special, but that didn’t matter, she could have been dressed in a flour sack for all he cared, the thing that enticed him the most was her mind, and those eyes.

Nervously he fumbled with the zipper on his jacket slipping it down over his arms. She had instructed him to be undressed when he entered her house. He intended to follow her instructions. As he slipped his t-shirt over his head she turned and looked at him. Instantly his cock hardened almost uncomfortably against his jeans.

“Hello,” he was surprised that his voice sounded almost normal.

“Hello,” she replied quietly, leaning against the door frame. Her eyes travelled over his body, drawing him in. Nothing could make him leave now, no matter how nervous he was. He continued to undress as she watched him, placing his clothing neatly over the chair that was positioned near the back door. When he was fully naked she moved away from the doorway, gesturing for him to enter.

She moved over to the jug in the corner and busied herself making coffee. They made small talk as the jug boiled. He was acutely conscious of his nudity and her being fully clothed but somehow he didn’t feel uncomfortable. As she poured as she poured boiling water into his cup and added the right amount of sugar and milk it It was strange her serving him in this way, even though they were in her house, he was here to do her bidding and yet right now she was serving him.

He took the cup from her and sipped it gladly, it had been a long morning. Finally the nerves began to ease away from him and he could feel the sexual tension building in him. Without speaking she began to remove her clothing. Her shorts fell to the floor revealing the garment he always anticipated the most, her knickers. Today they were pink and sheer, showing the hair on her mound underneath. The urge to kneel in front of her and bury his face in her crotch was almost overwhelming but something in her eyes warned him to remain where he was.

“You are not allowed to touch,” she warned.

“OK then,” he responded wondering how he was going to be able to obey her rules. The thought completely left his mind as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slipped them down over her knees.

“You are to wear these,” she instructed, holding them out to him. His heart raced, almost thumping out of his chest as he took the scrap of pink fabric from her. He could not resist pressing them to his face and inhaling her aroma. His cock stiffened between his thighs as he slipped the garment over his legs and up over his ass. He couldn’t stretch the nylon over his hardened cock but it was the most enticing thing he had ever felt, his cock was so hard it was almost painful.

“You can see I haven’t shaved,” she indicated the hair covering her mound. While it wasn’t fully grown he could tell it had been a long time since she had shaved or waxed.

“Ok,” he replied, a little unsure of what she wanted. She turned and walked towards the bathroom without a comment. With a tingle of nerves starting again he followed her.

A yellow razor was set out on the sink of the bathroom. Howard reached forward to pick it up.

“You are to watch,” she instructed.

Unable to resist any more Howard reached out to fondle her mound,

“You may not touch,” she reiterated as she picked up the razor and placed her foot on the sink.

“Do you mind if I sit here so I can get a better view?” He asked respectfully, desperately hoping that she wouldn’t say no.

“For the first time she allowed herself to smile, “of course.”

He sank to the floor so that he could look up at her pink, glistening cunt that was opened like a flower just above his head. The aroma of her arousal drifted down to him, reminding him of the garment that was covering his cock. Above his face the razor moved in long slow strokes over her mound. Gradually the hair fell away leaving behind smooth, freshly shaved skin. He held his breath as the razor passed closely to her clit, for a moment he was afraid she would cut herself but she smiled beguilingly as she moved the blade away from the danger zone.

When she was finished she placed the razor on the bench and rubbed her fingers over the smooth skin. Teasingly she dipped her fingers into her glistening cunt and raised them to her lips. Howard craved a taste of her sweet juices but he was afraid to ask. Eventually his desire got the better of him,

“Please Miss,” he asked politely, “May I have a taste?”

Like a benevolent parent she obliged, dipping her fingers deep inside herself and stroking the wetness around her fold before placing them onto his lips. A smile played around her mouth as she traced her juices onto his lips before inserting her finger into his mouth.

The taste did nothing to ease his hunger, instead it made him want her cunt even more.

But she had other ideas. Taking her foot down from the sink she led him over to the bed where she bent him over the edge. The nylon of her panties stretched over his ass as he bent against the mattress exposing his buttocks to her, waiting impatiently.

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In The Beginning

I began this blog partly as a way of making some changes to the way I was blogging with Erotic Adventures. The other part of the change was to tell the story of my journey. I was raised in a Catholic, white, middle class family. My parents are very conservative and so my sexual education as I passed through adolescence was almost non-existent.

By contrast my lifestyle today is what many people of my parents’ ilk would call hedonistic. It is not an easy transition. When I was a prudish schoolgirl who planned to be a virgin on her wedding night and was terrified of being caught masturbating I thought everyone else was more sexual than me. These days I am often confronted with the reality that while we all like to TALK about sex, very few people out there are actually having the kind of sex we like to talk about or watch on the Internet.

In some ways the transformation was inevitable. Even when I was very young I was insatiably curious about sex. Maybe it was because I was starved for information by my parent’s refusal or inability to talk about sex with me. Other aspects of my upbringing made me very socially awkward. I didn’t have may friends as a teenager and so I couldn’t ask my questions or talk about normal curiosity with my friends.

And so I resorted to furtively reading the sex advice columns in magazines and exploring my own body as much as I could in the limited privacy that a boarding school allowed. I masturbated frequently to the point where I couldn’t go to sleep without it. I liked to wear short skirts and I was proud of my breasts. I know now that that were pretty nice breasts. I wish that I had been more confident of my breasts when I was younger but I am making up for it now.

Mr Jones was one of the key people who finally helped me to reach a place where I am more or less comfortable with my body and my sexuality at least for a while. Our sexual relationship started out with a huge bang. For the first time ever I felt as if he ‘got’ me and we fucked like rabbits, until life took over. The arrival of children radically changed things in our relationship. I won’t go into all the sordid details but for a long time I couldn’t understand how much emphasis Mr Jones put on sex. For me it was fun but just the icing on the cake. I just didn’t get that sex is an important part of feeling loved especially for him. There was constant friction between us about the need for ‘enough’ sex.

My twisted upbringing had trained me well to repress my body’s natural desires and to this day I find it hard to just be horny. When I realise that I am sometimes it is like a triumph and I want to shout from the rooftops. “I am not broken! I can be horny!” The result of my repression was that I began to resent his desire and like so many women with small children and a job to juggle, sex just became one of the chores to tick off on the list of things to get done this week.

Looking back and talking with some people about this topic I know now that we were definitely having more sex than a lot of people even when he kept making me feel like we weren’t. I also know that it doesn’t really matter. Sometimes though knowing something intellectually does erase the negative impressions and bad associations. I still struggle daily with some things like telling him when I am horny or making sure that I enjoy the experience as well.

This negativity dominated my sexual landscape for a very long time, even now it still rears its ugly head from time to time making me over think and over analyse everything that is going on. These days I am starting to realise that this is part of a bigger problem and I am dealing with it that way. Like everyone with this kind of issue I am very good at hiding it. Being in “Gemma mode” is in a lot of ways a mask. Gemma is Mrs Jones but she is also the person Mrs Jones isn’t able to be. Gemma doesn’t have body hang ups or worries about not being sexy or concerns about wether she is doing the sex right. She knows she is one of the hottest creatures on the planet and that when she walks in the room every guys wants to fuck her. It is very liberating being able to slip into character so to speak but there have been times when Gemma has overdone things a little and then left Mrs Jones to pick up the pieces.

I guess that is part of life really and directing my energy towards focussing on the positives instead of dwelling on the negatives is part of my approach to dealing with the issues I mentioned earlier. Like everything it is a journey and I will be on it for the rest of my life. In the spirit of being positive I am looking forward to the ride.

Wicked Wednesday – Skeletons in the Closet.

My blogging life began as writing short stories describing my experiences and fantasies. I had dreams of making a career out of writing erotica. As it turns out so do a lot of other people, especially since the publication of Fifty Shades of Grey. I have participated in Wicked Wednesday regularly as Gemma Jones from Erotic Adventures but this is my first as Mrs Jones. If you like it please leave a comment and make sure you check out the other entries at the Wicked Wednesday Page.

Wicked Wednesday

“Mr Portman will be with you shortly” the immaculately groomed receptionist, smiled at Natalie, “Would you like to take a seat?” She gestured at the small couches lining the wall of the reception area.

“Thank you,” Natalie returned the smile before she turned to perch nervously on one of the couches. Carefully she flicked through the contents of her portfolio checking that her documents were in order. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, she had a lot of hopes and dreams pinned on this meeting. For over a year she had wanted to work for this company, now she was one interview away from realising. The butterflies in her stomach hit panic mode and her fingers started to tremble at this rate she would be unable to give an intelligent answer to anyone, she had to get control of herself.

“Mr Portman will see you now,” the receptionist opened the door to the side of her desk, gesturing towards the hallway.

“Thank you,” Natalie took a deep breath to calm herself as she stood up and smoothed down her skirt. As she passed the doorway She fought the urge to check her reflection in the glass of the door.

“It is the first door on the left,” the receptionist indicated as Natalie stepped past her.

“Thank you,” Natalie replied. The hallway seemed infinitely long as she made her way to the door on the left. The butterflies in her stocks fluttered in panic as she reached out for the door handle. She gave herself a hard mental shove, it was just an interview. The door handle clicked before the door swung silently open to reveal a spartan office dominated by a large wooden desk and the powerful figure of a man sitting behind it. All of the breath left Natalie’s body as she realised who he was. The memory of the last time she had seen him slammed into her mind completely taking away her ability to speak.

“Hello Natalie,” Mr Portman stood up and stepped out from behind his desk to hold his hand out to her. His presence filled the room and completely engulfed Natalie in exactly the same way as it had when she had met him before, “please call me Brian.” He took Natalie’s hand and grasped it firmly. For a split second she thought he was going to kiss her hand but he didn’t. Instead he guided her to a seat in the corner of his office. Natalie sank into the chair, grateful that she didn’t have to will her legs to hold her up any longer. Valiantly she struggled to focus on the situation and banish the images that were flooding her mind.

“Would you like a coffee or something before we get started?” His voice caressed over her in the way that she remembered making her cunt throb and a warm wetness dampened the gusset of her panties.

“Just a glass of water,” she replied with a smile. She forced herself to look up into his eyes, his whole manner and expression were completely professional, there wasn’t a single hint that he had remembered anything about her. Disappointment stabbed through her gut twisting like a knife inside her. That single encounter with him had fuelled her fantasies many times over the last two weeks. More than once she had thought about him tracing her lips with his cock as she fingered herself in the darkness of her bedroom. Automatically she took the glass he offered her, daring another glance into his eyes but again she was disappointed there was nothing there but steely blue professionalism.

Settling his tall frame in the chair across from her Brian began the interview. Everything about him was formal and businesslike, there was no hint of the man she remembered, the one with with the leather jeans and a bare chest that she had met at Fetish Empire two weeks ago. The one that had tied her hands behind her back and made her worship his cock before he spread her legs and worshipped her in a way she hadn’t believed was possible. Natalie followed his lead and kept her mind focussed on where she was. She reminded herself of what was at stake, she didn’t want to throw away her long held dream just because of a man she had fucked at a club. No matter how good the fucking had been.

As the interview drew to a close Natalie allowed herself to relax a little. She admired the way his body filled his suit and also the way he approached his work. She could see that Brian Portman was more than a man in a pair of leather trousers with a talent for mixing pleasure and pain. He was very good at his job. It confirmed the reason why she had come here in the first place, Bradman and Street had a reputation for employing exceptional business people and she wanted more than anything to be part of that. Her resolve was firm, no skeletons in hers or anyone else’s closet were going to jeopardise her chances.

Brian gathered together his papers signalling the end of the interview. Natalie followed his lead and stood to leave. As she passed him in the doorway she inhaled his scent, it was the same as she remembered, her body responded automatically. Looking up her eyes were locked by the fire in his. The business only manner had left him. Heat flushed through Natalie and a fresh patch of wetness formed on her panties.

“I am sure we will be seeing much more of each other in the future,” Brian’s voice caressed Natalie like smooth silk fanning the heat in her cheeks. “We always have room here for talented young people like yourself.” His hand rested on the small of her back, guiding her through the doorway.

“I hope so,” she replied, “in whatever capacity you are able to use my talents.”

As she walked down the hallway Natalie could feel his eyes on her ass. It confirmed what she had always thought, she was definitely going to like working here.

Swinging Etiquette 101 – Looking After Your Partner

The morning after a visit to the swingers club is always an interesting time for me. Most of the time there is the post gratuitous sex horniness that sees me wanting to fuck any erect penis in sight. But what also happens always is a kaleidoscope of images, sights, sounds and experiences to sort through and ponder over. No matter what happens on the night I always come away with some kind of new insight or discovery about human nature.

Often in the earlier part of the night, when everyone else is scoping out partners and scrambling around for the best deal they can get I find myself people watching. There are lots of aspects to this hobby, checking out shoes and clothes, scoping for potential partners, watching people I already know and watching other people’s relationships in action.

The relationship part is something I find endlessly fascinating. When you come across two people who really have their shit together it is heartwarming and so fucking sexy to watch them interact. The sexiest thing a man can do is worship the woman he loves.

On the flip side the least sexy thing a person can do is leave their partner for dead. I am not going to be all holier than thou and say I have always had Mr Jones at the forefront of my mind, especially at the beginning of my corruption but these days I am mostly focussed on him.

My adventures last night included an encounter with a fairly sexy guy. We were introduced by a mutual friend and the attraction between us was immediate. Things got a bit awkward when another couple happened along and the woman of the couple decided that she was also interested in Mr Hot Guy. So there we were for a while, Hot Guy, me, the other woman and our respective husbands. To summarise, three penises and two vaginas. It was pretty obvious that both the women were interested in Hot Guy and Hot Guy, like any red blooded male, was up for two women pleasuring him but the equation also included two other men.

Personally I am more than happy to accommodate two penises and this

IMG_0328.JPGcould have provided a solution to the imbalance but the other husband didn’t ring my bell. Based on her actions my husband wasn’t ringing the other woman’s bell either. That is fine, it is our choice. To cut a long story short Other Woman ended up dragging Hot Guy off for some fun without even looking back at her husband who was sitting watching proceedings and feeling really awkward.

In situations like that my responsibility is for the pleasure of my own husband and myself. Other Husband is entirely NOT my responsibility. As I said I am more than happy to accommodate more than one man and I took the opportunity to indulge in a spit roast, something I have a soft spot for, but after a while I decided that my charity to other husband only extended to a sympathy head job. The full threesome experience was not going to happen for him. I was also pretty clear that I was not prepared to indulge the FFM fantasy experience for Hot Guy. Other Woman may have been happy leaving her husband for dead but I don’t work that way.

At the start of our journey Mr Jones and I were very clear about our responsibility to care for each other in club and party situations. This is mainly a safety thing but it does extend to rescuing each other from being cornered with weird people and ensuring that making sure that no one gets left out. I take this seriously. My primary relationship is my primary focus. No guy, or woman, is hot enough to warrant treating my husband badly. In my opinion there is no excuse for treating your partner badly in a swing situation. People who do are really unattractive in the worst possible way.

Of course I don’t know all the details of this particular couple’s relationship and so my reading of the situation may be mistaken. It is something that I have seen before and probably have been guilty of myself from time to time. We all make mistakes. That is OK as long as we learn from them. At the end of the day we are going home with our respective partners they are the ones we have to live with and so it makes sense that we remember that.

My New Pet

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I have a LOT of pets; cats, chickens, ducks, geese, budgies, fish, kids, a husband….. I am frequently having to tell my children “no more animals” but when you are at the Produce buying food for your menagerie these baby fluffy things look at you and then somehow they find their way into your car and your heart. You know how it goes.

Pet was a little bit like that. I met him at a party a couple of years ago. At the time things didn’t really pan out but recently we bumped into each other again and one thing led to another….. You know how it goes. After we dealt with the sexual energy that had built up and scratched an itch that had been two years in the scratching we had a chat about what we were interested in exploring. He told me that what he really wanted was to be a pet to some nice mistress.

I have toyed with the idea of being a “Miss” before. I have written some stories about it, look for “Declan and Mrs Smythe” on Erotic Adventures I promise to post some excerpts over the summer. But somehow it scared me a little. I didn’t have the confidence in my ability to dominate someone in the way that you read about in all the D/s stuff on the net. Added to that I wasn’t sure I wanted to punish the way Dommes seem to.

Pet is a very persuasive kind of person. In fact he isn’t the kind of guy that I would have expected would take very well to being given instructions or having restrictions placed on him. I was surprised at his request and very hesitant. The purist in me felt as if he wasn’t really going to be a submissive because even though I was playing the dominant role it was under his direction….. Yeh I have issues with overthinking.

And so here I was naked with this guy who had just fucked me senseless in a way that I hadn’t been for far too long who was literally begging me to let him be my pet because he just wanted to please his Miss. The closest analogy I can come up with is that he reminded me of a puppy, all excited and jumping around . Like the cute fluffy goslings at the produce store I couldn’t say no to his to him. Now I find myself with Pet.

This whole thing is new and both of us are making it up as we go. It is not a complete D/s relationship which suits me fine but all in all he is a very well behaved pet. He has some very sensual kinks. Unlike a lot of men he is very interested in touch, feel and sensual pleasure. The part where he sticks his dick into a hole is secondary for him. His interest in underwear and how it feels, smells and looks is something which a lot of people find a bit confronting. For me I have to say as a younger person I would have reacted the same way. But now it is proving to be extremely sexy. There is something very sensual about the feel of silky fabric against your skin. There is something even sexier about seeing and feeling it on someone else especially when you have just instructed them to put it on.

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There are many things about this man that are opening my eyes to the possibilities but something that springs to mind almost every time I think of him is the re-discovery of how sensual a bare handed spanking can be. I have always enjoyed a good spank during play but often men are hesitant to spank because they are afraid to hurt. Or they hurt, and not in a good way. There is an art to delivering a good spanking. I am learning that the pleasure is not just in receiving but also in giving. Something about the contact of two skin surfaces is so very sexy. Right here right now I would say without hesitation that bare handed spanking is on my top ten list of pleasures.

Despite my original misgivings, as I just described, I am starting to enjoy giving instructions and coming up with activities for Pet. The pure sensuality of pushing boundaries and observing his pleasure is liberating in a way I find hard to describe. In some ways it is like playing Barbies in a very grown up way. I get to dress him, and put him in whatever position pleases me. I am very much looking forward to more sessions of using him as my personal fuck toy.

TMI Tuesday – All the Colours of the Rainbow

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This week’s questions were provided by Virtual Sin

From your life, tell us about an object, experience or idea related to each of the colors of the spectrum:

1. Red
Recently one of my students made the astute observation that red must be one of my favourite colours because I wear so much of it. I wasn’t aware of wearing red that often but clearly this young man was more observant than I thought. I think his ideas were slightly biased by a pair of bright red boots that I was wearing during winter that drew many comments from more than one of my students.

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2. Orange
The first thing that comes into my mind when I think of the colour orange is the soft drink Fanta. It isn’t a drink that I particularly drink very often but as it is a sister product to Coca Cola it has had some pretty good television ads in the past.

3. Yellow
When my son was around four years old his favourite colour was yellow. I remember once during a meditation at the end of a Yoga class we were asked to visualise a person who made us happy and then to visualise the colour that reminded us of them. Without any conscious effort my son came to mind and I associated him with the colour yellow. He is a happy soul and even now, ten years later, he takes great delight in making people happy.

4. Green
When my husband and I purchased our first house together we found a property that ticked a lot of boxes. The house was twice the size of the house we were living in at the time and it was quite new. In addition it had a fantastic swimming pool. The drawback, the entire interior was painted a very attractive cucumber green. To emphasise their choice of wall colour the owners had furnished their house with blue and green furniture. We did end up buying the house on the condition that the interior would be repainted as soon as possible. To this day I am thankful that the floor coverings and bathroom tiles were not green as well.

5. Blue
One of my favourite places to be is near the ocean, particularly when the water is crystal clear and has that blue colour that you see, particularly around the Pacific. There is just something magical about white sand and deep blue water that makes me think of holidays and fantastic snorkelling.

6. Violet
I am currently working on a story line and background story for my 2014 NaNoWriMo attempt. One of the things I have problems with when I am writing is coming up with names for my characters. However after reading this I am thinking that this year’s main character will be named Violet.

Bonus: What is the color of sex?
In my mind I sex has sounds, smells, a multitude of images, tastes and of course a wide range of sensations. However I have never really considered sex having a colour.

As always if you want more TMI goodness you can always visit the TMI page.

This is NOT Bookclub

For the people out there who have not been following me for long and for those of you who have been living under a rock here are a couple of facts about me that you may or may not be aware of;
1. I am a massive exhibitionist
2. I love to suck cock
So, now that we have that straight I will continue with my story.

Last Saturday evening Mr Jones and myself decided to visit a swingers club that we frequent. The evening started out in the usual way, we had some drinks, we chatted with some people and played some pool. As is the way in venues like this the evening started out fairly awkward with couples all sitting around huddled next to each other looking at the crowd around them. Once everyone had a few drinks the more outgoing folk started to make themselves known to the folks they were interested in.

Standing at the bar I became part of a conversation with an attractive but slightly inebriated young lady who was unhappy with the state of affairs downstairs in the main play area. This area is a large lounge like room furnished with couches that is away from the main bar, smoking and traffic areas and often becomes the site of a fair bit of action. My new friend was proclaiming that tonight, however, it was like being at book club. In her opinion there was not enough nudity and adult action.

She went on to explain that it was her boyfriend’s birthday after midnight and that he was to be subjected to as much stimulation as possible without any chance of climax. She also went on to boast about his size and challenged any woman within earshot to get more than an inch of his cock into her mouth. Immediately I was up for the challenge.

And so a group led by the Pocket Rocket invaded the “book club”. Under instruction from Pocket Rocket several of us lost clothing and she proceeded to tease her lover. Once his pants were off I was keen to see the large member she boasted of, I was a little disappointed, but he turned out to be a bit of a grower.

Eventually I was able to take her up on her challenge. He did have rather a nice cock and it was hair free which is always a good thing. Another good feature was his head, the smaller one, which was kind of pointy which serves well for deep throating. Considering it was his birthday I took my time with him and encouraged him to a good size and hardness which can be hard for a guy when he has had a few drinks and has a large audience. I then proceeded to take the bulk of his cock into my mouth which shocked Pocket Rocket a little.

As I said earlier, I love sucking cock. I love teasing a completely flaccid guy into a full blown throbbing hard on using only my mouth. I love you engulfing a shy cock with my lips and holding it until it forces its way out of my mouth with its excitement. And I love, love, love, looking into a man’s eyes as I fuck his cock with my mouth. I also love doing this in front of a live audience. The thought of other men touching themselves while watching me is one of my biggest turn ons. So I was in my element.

It turned out that Pocket Rocket had the attention span of a goldfish and despite how impressed she was by my ability she was soon off in search of another audience and some more stimulation. Which suited me fine. I would very much have liked to follow such an impressive head job with a damn good fucking from the cock I had just sucked so well but I also had other fish to fry.

Did I mention that I am sometimes into women, awkward guys and oddly, of late, the occasional hairy chest? And so the night progressed. Yes Pocket Rocket was right. It is definitely NOT Book Club.

If you either live in Brisbane or are visiting Mr Jones and I would recommend that you check out Mikes Place, unless of course you are looking for a real book club.

Blurred Lines

I am a very black and white person. I like things to be consistent and I hate it when things don’t fit into the category that I have given them previously. Of course this has caused me endless grief throughout my life. I have not been able to get my head around friends who do things that irritate me because at the time I didn’t understand that being friends with someone did not meat I had to like EVERYTHING about that particular person. I have spent an unreasonable amount of time considering wether I should work for certain companies because I had ethical issues with some of their practices. The list goes on and on.

One of the major issues I have had is the conflict between my feeling that I should be a ‘good girl’ but what my soul wants is nothing more than to be a ‘bad girl’. For a lot of my life I was ashamed of my predilection for short skirts, low cut dresses and big come fuck me boots. I didn’t realise that my mother and the world I grew up in was not only wrong but also hypocritical. For better or worse I was determined to be Mrs Jones; the perfect good girl who was always dressed appropriately and behaved as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

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As I grew up I began to give in to the dark side. I sometimes bought clothing that wasn’t exactly appropriate. I had sexual relationships that taught me that enjoying sex was not dirty. My marraige to Mr Jones has helped this process along considerably and today I find myself acknowledging that the good girl part of my personality and the bad girl part of my personality can co-exist in the same body.

And so Gemma Jones was born. In her fullest expression Gemma is not a bad girl, she is a Sex Goddess. She is comfortable with her body, who she is and knows what she wants out of life. Gemma is not plagued with doubts or concerns about what other people think about her. And most importantly she is happy.

For a few years I was able to live in Gemma mode pretty much all the time. But that was just a small window in time while I studied. Inevitably the degree I was studying was completed and I was faced with the reality of using the qualification I had just spent so many sleepless nights agonising over.

The career I had chosen meant that I would be working with teenagers. A frustrating, stressful and very rewarding field but not one that is populated with open minded people. It is unlikely that most of my colleagues or the parents of my students would be open minded enough to accept some of my more unconventional lifestyle choices,

And so now I find myself living the classic double life trying to stop my bad girl side from bleeding into my good girl life. I am an honest person. It is incredibly difficult for me to maintain a lie over an extended period. And so it is only a matter of time before Gemma makes an appearance. I can only hope she doesn’t do anything too inappropriate.

Why Does it Have to be so Hard

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So I have been looking for a playmate on and off for probably over a year now. When I say looking I don’t mean searching high and low, spending hours trolling through internet hook up sites and messaging every possibility on social media but looking in the sense that my eyes are open to opportunities and I pursue certain gentlemen when they happen to come into my notice.

So for me the process is a fairly passive one. Most of my suitors have approached me first when I have been doing nothing but merely going about my business. Sometimes this works but most of the time it doesn’t. I can’t really complain about that because the amount of effort I am putting in is fairly small.

A few months ago for some odd reason the planets aligned and I received a few messages from some random single guys on through my Fetlife account. I have no idea what caused them to stumble across me but like a polite well brought up young lady I replied and a few messages were exchanged. Most of them either petered out or I decided very quickly that they were not people I was interested in.

One however persisted. I had not really been out in the word of playing seriously for quite some time because my work had been all consuming and so I decided that I would meet this guy for a coffee to see where things would lead. In the past when I have done this things have gone in all sorts of directions including to a well known incident in a car park behind Bunnings. Readers of Erotic Adventures may remember that story.

This day was not to be anywhere near as fun as the Bunnings incident. There was something about the gentleman in question that was nagging me but I decided to persist. I should have listened to the nagging voice. It turned out to be one of the longest coffee dates I have ever known. Not only was he completely unattractive to me, he smelled bad and he had very few social skills. Within the first five minutes he had insulted my religion and my profession. Not only that but he completely ignored my attempts to change the subject. For the first time ever I seriously considered walking out leaving my unfinished coffee behind.

Afterwards I launched a twitter rant about the failure of the afternoon stating that if it was this hard I would seriously consider becoming monogamous again. Of course I was met with a barrage of men proclaiming that THEY would not waste my time. I began chatting with a gentleman who promised the world. After exchanging pictures and lots of words I was indeed very keen to meet. Hot sex with a sexy younger man seemed imminent.

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I should have known better really. After a couple of attempts at meeting in person and many refusals on my part to partake in internet sex (I don’t do web sex but I will save that discussion for another post) I found myself back at square one without any hot sex with younger men under my belt. After four attempts at trying to actually press flesh with this guy I resigned myself to the idea that it was never going to happen.

I find myself asking, What is so complicated about this?. What is so hard about getting two people to be naked together? Is seems a simple enough premise. I am a woman, with a fully functioning vagina, I am not unattractive, I am looking for a guy to have sex with. Not necessarily a hot young thing, I am pretty relaxed about the looks thing. I am fairly flexible about time, placement etc but for some reason all of the men who put their hand up suddenly find it too difficult when the time comes to put their money where their mouth is.

It is frustrating. I am fairly upfront and clear about what I want and what I do and don’t accept. All I am asking everyone else to do is the same. If you want to do the online chatting and camming thing that is fine, there are plenty of women out there who will scratch that itch with you. I am not one of them. Don’t waste my time and yours by pretending you are going to give me what I want in the hope that I will give you what you want.

In fact that is the one key piece of advice I would give to every person everywhere in the dating world, casual sex hook ups or otherwise. Just be open, upfront and honest about what you are looking for. Don’t pretend that you are looking for something that you aren’t just to get an in. Faking it is not going to increase your chances of getting what you actually want. It is just going to create stress and angst and ultimately lead to women who think men are all jerks and disengage from the dating scene leaving a huge herd of men who can’t understand where all the women went.

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TMI Tuesday – The Things That Come Out Of Our Mouths

I really really loved this week’s questions.

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1. Close your eyes and think about having sex with your lover. Now, what was the first image that came to your mind? Was it foreplay? What kind of sex? What position? Where?

For some reason the first thing that popped into my mind when I read this question was the first time I had sex with Mr Jones. It was one of the most romantic and sexy times of my life even after some of the sexy times that we have enjoyed since.

When Mr Jones and I started dating we agreed that we were not going to jump into bed on the first date because we both recognised that we were starting something special. Despite this we only managed to wait about two weeks. When we both gave in to the chemistry that was happening it was intense. We had a bath together and I straddled him in the bathtub. We were both so worked up we climaxed almost immediately and were ready for round two by the time we got out of the bath and went into the bedroom.

2. What is that most memorable thing that you or your partner said immediately after sex?

None of my lovers has the gift of the gab, obviously, because nothing pops into my head when I read this. Maybe it isn’t because they didn’t say anything memorable but rather because what they did beforehand fried my brain so much that I don’t have a clear memory of anything.

3. Whether reward or punishment, a part of your body must be shown on a huge billboard in the heart of your city/town. Which body part will you select to be 14 feet tall by 48 feet wide (4.27 meters x 14.63 meters)?

My breasts. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind about this. I am not a vain person but I am proud of my breasts.

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4. You are about to lose your power of speech, what’s the one thing you would want to tell someone before that happens?

My brain must be a bit fried tonight. Nothing immediately comes to mind. I hope that means I have everything that I need to tell people up to date. I think the only thing I would have to say is to tell Mr Jones that he has the prettiest cock that I have ever fucked.

But he already knows that.

5. You are stricken with a disorder that causes you to blurt out a single phrase every time you orgasm? What is that phrase?

“Fuck Me!!!!!” which is what I already say. I love cumming and getting fucked even harder.

Bonus: If you had to make out with a friend (same sex or opposite sex) to save the world from mass destruction, whom would you pick?

It is lucky that I have some sexy friends who are open minded like myself. From this group I would be pressed to choose just one. I would be very happy however to make out with a group of them if it meant saving the world. A girl has gotta do what a girls gotta do, right.

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