Category: My Journal

I don’t know much about cars, so when the conversation at a summer break get-together turns to everyone’s cars I sort of zone out. As I absent-mindedly braid my hair, my eyes wander from the speckled floor of the car park to the shimmering glare from someone’s windshield when something catches my eye. Snapping back to reality, I realise Luca has been trying to get my attention while I’ve been daydreaming.

“Hey, you still here?” he says with a smirk. I let out a giggle and blamed the heat for my daydreaming.

Alex jumps in to ask what car I drive and I wave my hand towards mine. “There, the blue one,” I say.

The guys chuckle; apparently, I was supposed to tell them the make and model but they’ve already figured it out and are back to their car talk. My eyes wander again, the green of the park behind Luca, his blue jeans, his lop-sided smirk… oh shit! How long have I been staring at him? Luca doesn’t seem to mind though, he gives me a nod and a wink before turning back to Alex. There’s something about him though, his scruffy beard and the way his muscled arms make his button-up scrunch at his elbows.

A car pulls up at the other end of the car park and Alex looks over.

“Uh oh, someone’s having a bad day,” he remarks nodding at the flat tyre.

“Lucky for them, you know how to change a tyre, don’t you Alex?” Luca prompts. Alex glances at me and flashes Luca a wry smile.

“Too true,” he says as he jogs off.

Luca leans beside me against his ute. I can feel the heat of the sunset reflecting off the bonnet but that’s not why I start to blush. 

“I’m glad they got a flat,” he says softly.

“Oh yeah, why’s that?” I reply trying not to let my voice waver.

“Because now that Alex isn’t here, I can do what I’ve been thinking about all afternoon…”

I feel a rush, like butterflies in my tummy and I open my mouth to ask him what that might be when he interrupts me, “But only if you admit that you were checking me out.”

If my blushing wasn’t that noticeable before, it’s completely undeniable now. I giggle softly and rest my head against his shoulder in mock defeat.

Luca uses his hand to lift my face, “C’mon, I want my confession,” he teases.

“You are such a dork,” I tell him.

“A dork?” he asks softly, leaning closer to me.

“Yeah,” I manage to whisper as our noses brush against each other.

He pulls me closer to him and I can feel all the places our bodies are pressed against each other. I like the way he smells and tastes and the way he traces his fingertips across my back. Suddenly, he stops and pulls back.

“Do you want to know something about this ute?” he asks, smacking the side of the tub.

“Oh sure,” I say sarcastically, “couldn’t you tell I was just captivated by your discussion on crankshafts and axles?”

Luca laughs and reaches for my hand. He leans in again until I can feel his scruffy beard tickling my neck and he whispers, “In this tub are handles and I would love for you and me to make the most of them.”

I let out a giggle, “Oh my god, you are a dork!” 

The pretty innocence of her round face drives me wild. The way she holds herself; proud of all she is and all she has to offer makes me weak. My fingers ache for the chance to caress every curve in her figure. I want to worship her, honour her, give myself over to her. I live for the way her plush & freckled bosom jiggles when she throws her head back in laughter… 

Hidden beneath her business attire, her ample body is still on my mind. I can hear the nylon stockings around her thighs brushing against each other as she walks. It’s like whispered dirty talk without her even having to say a word. When she bends, her black skirt gets hiked up to cling to the contour of her hips offering a peak of her thick thighs. I crave the feeling of those thighs beneath my fingertips and I think back to how they tense and shiver when my tongue is between them. I can feel myself blushing at the memory. The slit in her skirt yawns open when she takes a seat and I catch a glimpse of the silver clip of her garters. Those nylon stockings have cheeky lacy tops to them and I’m sure they match what’s beneath her outfit. 

She lifts her hand from the desk and I follow the sparkle of the ring sitting snugly against her finger as she reaches her for hair. Those bright eyes meet mine with a knowing look and her plump lips blow me a kiss. I know she knows what I’m thinking and I am helpless to her flirting, but god knows I’ll make sure the wait is worth it when we get home.

When she turns away I can see one of her pet peeves; those pesky blouse buttons refusing to lay flat. That winking gap in her pinstripe top confirms my suspicions of a sexy bra with lacy details to match her stockings. My mind spins with the thought of how we will spend the evening.

She meets me outside the office for the walk home and she takes my hand in hers.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you looking,” she whispers.

“Good,” I tell her, “then you know what’s been on my mind all day.”

Those thick thighs I love so much seem to give a preemptive tremble as she giggles. I can’t wait to be alone with her again.

Check out Big Beautiful Women available here.

I have always appreciated the sex appeal of an older woman. There are plenty of reasons why “MILF,” “mature” and “cougar” are such popular terms in porn, but I never really understood it until her.

When she walked in the door, it was like my first crush all over again. Butterflies in my tummy, my face turning pink and I suddenly didn’t know where to look or how to talk. Her outfit would have seemed plain if it weren’t for the ripe, hourglass figure it clung to. Her jeans were low around her hips, which could have been literally child-bearing. Across the small of her back was a faded, skimpy tattoo, the remnants of an impulsive youth. Her cropped band tee wasn’t designer ‘vintage,’ just concert merch from her 20’s. She seemed like a snapshot of sex appeal from years gone by, like meeting Stacy’s Mom.

Despite whatever skin-care routine that kept her skin so soft, her charming smile lines hinted at years of pleasure & laughter. From that first moment, she radiated warmth and I’m quite sure she could seduce a nun if she wanted to. At first, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be her or be with her, but I’m confident now it’s both. Most of the women I meet in this industry are in their 20s or 30s so to see someone who was old enough to be my mother was unusual, let alone a woman so magnetic.

She was touring for one of the busiest events, so we were sleeping two to a room. As fate would have it, I ended up bunking with her. We were both ready to fall into bed after a long night but had time to chat about our schedules. I was impressed but not really surprised by how many clients were already booked in to see her. She said that being a ‘mature’ woman in this job meant more social dates than parties but it certainly didn’t mean any less fun.

“There are always new tricks to learn, and you should see the things I’ve learnt to do,” she said with a chuckle. I was captivated by her passion, her warmth, and even her perfume left me craving more.

The next day was a whirlwind of hairspray and glitter as we all rushed to get ready. Suddenly, she appeared beside me and laid her hand on my bare shoulder.

“Hey hun, you do overnights, right?” she asked.

I nodded.

“And what about bi-doubles?”

I nodded again and she smiled.

“That guy we spoke about last night, he has decided he wants a double and you’ll never guess who he wants to see me with,” she says with a flirty grin.

There was no containing my excitement for that evening. The perfect opportunity to explore this new-found attraction had just fallen into my lap. Maybe it was her years of experience in all things pleasure or the undeniable chemistry between us, but I still haven’t found anyone who can make me feel the way she did. 

Check out Mature Women available here.

It’s about time you reach out; I don’t like to be kept waiting, but I am a forgiving mistress. Leave your work and worries at the door and step into MY domain. I am your ultimate escape, the perfect, powerful woman to take orders from. You aren’t the boss here, I am. So be good and follow me down the hall to the Dungeon.

I can tie you up and let you watch me enjoying myself, I want to hear you plead for me, for my body, for release. Let me make you pay; I have floggers and paddles available that create the perfect array of dull aches and sharp tingles. Or maybe I will blindfold you and tease you endlessly, edging closer and closer… All of those sensations to bring your focus back to the present, back to me and only me. Find release in your submission to me. 

And when you are craving carnal intensity, there’s the flogging frame to create the perfect pose of intimate vulnerability. Let me drag my nails across your skin before bringing my whip down smartly against you. Let it all out, every groan and sigh of pleasure dedicated to me. Beg for me, plead with me, I want to know just how much you want me. We can role-play, dress up, dirty talk, all you have to do is ask politely.

We can find an arrangement that suits you; harsh when you deserve it and tender when you need it. The perfect dynamic to bring you to breathless satisfaction. We don’t have to part ways just yet; let’s unwind together; curled up against each other’s bare skin. We can talk about things or imagine what we will do next time, or perhaps just let our breath sync up in peaceful bliss. 

Let us live out the perfect experience that is every bit as cathartic as you hope for. I’ll take control so you don’t have to, and you’ll obey your mistress because I will reward you. I know you’re busy, but you know you need me…

One of my first real dates was with a girl who gave me butterflies. What caught my attention first wasn’t her oh-so-pretty face (though I’ll never forget that cheeky smirk), it was the brightly coloured pants that only she could pull off so well. The softly ribbed texture of corduroy still sends shivers down my spine, but that’s neither here nor there. We went to different schools and were a year or two apart in age but had crossed paths and hit it off. She was so unashamedly herself and I was utterly smitten.

I was young and, although I never would have admitted it then, naive. She had done things I had never even heard of and it made my heart race. I learnt a great deal on our dates. She taught me about sub-drop and aftercare, and what to look out for when seeking a dom/domme. We talked about impact play and sensitivity and bruises. It was sitting in a park that I first learnt about squirting, and I blushed like never before when she suggested a more hands-on approach.

While I can thank her for so my introduction to the kink and BDSM scene, she taught me a far more valuable lesson too. The dates she took me on set the standard so high for all future dates. She treated me like a princess and I had the time of my life doing practically nothing. I learnt how I should be treated and reminded that a date wasn’t an agreement to hook up at the end. Neither of us was looking for something serious but I never felt like a cheap fling to her either. To this day, I have held all of my dates to the standards she set. I am so grateful for her kindess.

Wherever she is now, I send my appreciation and admiration. I hope she is having fun and still rocking those stunning corduroy pants.

Come on in and take a seat in the lounge, let’s design your perfect fantasy. Tell me everything you have ever dreamed of; all the things you’ll do to me, or let me do to you. Once we set our limits and find a safeword, I want to make your wildest dreams come true. We could do just about anything together, we could spend all night acting out your favourite scenes. Splash out on taking me to the Dungeon where I can be your perfect little pet. I’ll be at your mercy whether it’s blindfolded and gagged, tied up or pinned down… There are also toys, whips and paddles available. You could even buy one for me, or keep it as a memento of our time together.

Don’t worry if you’ve never had the chance to take control before, I would love to teach you how to be the very best dom. From how to use the different toys and tools to where I am most sensitive. It’s not all rough, hard and wild, though; sometimes the best kind of torture is the lightest touches. Those soft feather teasers can really make me writhe. Then, trace the contours of my body and feel my heartbeat under your fingertips. Press yourself up against me and listen to me beg for more.

You could see me and my friend and watch us we put on a show for you. We could take turns pleasing you, trying to outdo each other and make you reach satisfaction.

And if hearing me whimper for you isn’t enough, there’s always dirty talk & roleplay. I’ll be anything you want; a naughty schoolgirl, your naive girlfriend, or a delightfully rebellious brat. Tell me I’ve been naughty and give me the punishment I deserve, or that I have been such a good girl to earn your attention.

I miss you already…

There are a few unspoken agreements in the ladies’ bathroom, particularly at clubs; everyone looks stunning, no one should go to the bathroom alone and never, ever let someone text their ex. Most men underestimate the comradery we girls find as we touch up our makeup in the speckled mirror.

I went out on the town the day after a messy break-up. Long story short, myself and another lady learned we had been dating the same guy. He hooked up with yet another girl and she realised he was in not one, but two relationships. I didn’t know who else he had been two-timing, and I was just looking for a distraction. It was while I rinsed the taste of cheap whiskey out of my mouth that I heard someone crying. Of course, Girl Code means I have to check in on them. For the sake of this story, let’s call her Annie.

We had a few mutual friends, so she wasn’t a complete stranger. I invited her out to a booth in the club and we talked. Through hiccups, she told me how she risked her job dating a guy who then cheated. Even with her mascara running down her cheek, I was captivated. She was so sweet and pretty. I empathised with her and told her how angry I was at my ex too. I wish I had put the pieces together sooner but it took us quite a while before we realised we were talking about the same guy. Fuelled by emotion (and whatever that charming blue cocktail was), it wasn’t long before Annie’s mascara was smudged against my face too.

There are few things as passionate as mutual heartache and we spent the night proving we didn’t need him. I’ll never forget the way she leaned into me and whispered “You’re so much better than him” as I felt her quiver beneath my fingertips.

It was the classic high-school party scene; someone’s parents had left them home alone for the weekend and we had decided it would be a great time to throw a party. The neighbours raised their eyebrows as the cars started parking on the lawn. I pulled up, fashionably late like usual, and dropped my keys in the designated box for the night. The shed in the yard became a makeshift club, with a plastic folding table for the drinks. There were buckets of ice with stubbies poking out against the wall, and we repurposed someone’s guitar amp for the music. We were lucky enough to have a bonfire in a 44-gallon drum and a hundred bucks worth of marshmallows.

The night wore on and the sweet and ashy taste of marshmallows blended with the smoke in the air. Suddenly, I caught the faintest scent of something refreshing but I couldn’t place it. The guy in front of me turned around and flashed a smile and we struck up a conversation. He was newly single and I remember his mate joking that I was a step up from his ex. The wind changed direction and carried smoke and cheap alcohol across the air. Every so often I would catch that sweet, refreshing smell again and imagine it across my tongue. Amidst snatches of conversation, I would find myself daydreaming about that flavour. To my inebriated self, nothing in the world could have smelled or tasted so unbelievably wonderful.

I was still flirting with that guy when his mate came back and said something about his ex being in another relationship already. Naturally, my role in this little scandal was clear. I was all dolled up and we decided to take a photo proving he had moved on too. So, in a dress shorter than my mother’s temper, we struck a pose worthy of a centrefold.

It was while I was draped around this guy that I realised where that intoxicating scent was coming from; bubblemint gum. While his friend found the perfect photo angle, I blurted out that I love that flavour of gum and jokingly he asked if I wanted a taste. And I, never one to pass up such an opportunity, kissed him to enjoy that refreshing sweet flavour. The photo was iconic and I had the pleasure of enjoying that flavour all night long…