Wednesday, 20 November 2019

Dublin, Cold and Wet

And dry, well almost, I'm talking about the booze not the weather. P returned from there and he's picked up a bug, got laryngitis (he thinks) and wasn't happy with the trip in general, nor what he called the 'lack of sympathy' from me which got me spanked.

It was a hastily arranged trip, our old partner from China had booked a Beijing-Dublin flight and asked P to join him, he'd arranged some meetings with employers who had staff shortages and had been employing Filipinos with good results but needed more. P was a bit dubious, he thinks there will be opportunities to bring more staff into the UK in various discipline after brexit finally settles but he can't see much point putting effort into Eire and he doesn't want to go back into that full time in any case. Anyway he agreed to go, Chung wanted a bit of support, I wanted to go too but P said no it wouldn't be a 'jolly' as he called it. That pissed me off a bit.

Anyway it got done, P said he couldn't really see much coming out of it but it had been nice to see Chung again even though he seemed to have gone tea-total. P's voice was croaky and intermittent when he got home, I said he couldn't have contributed much in meetings like that but he said it didn't stop his brain from working and anyway it was often better to let the other parties do the talking. He asked me for lemsip and linctus and whatever else we had in the medicine bag, some nasal spray too even though he didn't appear to have a cold. I gave him what we had and let him choose. He didn't seem actually ill to me, just lost his voice and feeling sorry for himself. I told him he should have let me go with him, I'd have been able to look after him (heavy sarcasm) and I'd have been a willing drinking buddy because I love Irish bars and the stuff they specialise in, which I can get through easily over there though wouldn't over here.

Long story short, second day back P's throat was worse, more like a regular cough than laryngitis and I told him so. I made him cancel a visit to our granddaughter because of possible infection, which is low risk with laryngitis but higher with a regular cough. He wasn't happy but accepted it after a few words. Then he got funny with me for not caring enough or trying to put it right for him, well there's not much you can do really for something like that and I didn't feel too concerned anyway as he hadn't taken me with him. A few snipes passed between us and then he decided I needed spanking. I told him I didn't and what about his cough and passing his infection on to me. He told me he wasn't affected physically, not like I was shortly going to be, and since when did spankings pass germs on. I told him any hand contact could so he just said he better not use his hand then and told me to come upstairs with him.

What an idiot! Me not him. If I hadn't mentioned the germs crap he would most likely have spanked me in the lounge, by hand, good and hard hopefully, which would have been just the job after a few days apart and a bit of friction. But now I was being marched upstairs and it would be an implement of some sort. He took me into the office and found the first thing that came to hand which happened to be bogey's paddle worse luck for me. He sat on the futon and made me undo my jeans and get a move on, then he wrenched them down to my thighs and dragged me across his lap. My knickers were next, before he started, so he wasn't playing, and then he started in. He gave me, well, I'd guess between sixty and eighty spanks hard and fast, they weren't punctuated with rhetoric because his voice wasn't up to it. Most of the noise came from me as I wriggled and squiggled begging him to to stop after several minutes. He did eventually and slid me onto the floor. I pulled my knickers up, pouting. I could see his cock was hard inside his jeans, I said I was sorry if I'd been inconsiderate and asked how I could best make it up to him, my eyes blatantly on his crotch. He put his hands on my head.

"Not like that," he said, "much as I'd like to. That's one sure way of passing on an infection."

He was right of course so I got up next to him, unzipped him and gave him a hand job instead. 

"There," I simpered, "see how useful I could have been if I'd been over there with you."


Monday, 18 November 2019

Thank You

Did you enjoy this year's Love our Lurkers celebration?  I did but wasn't around as much as I would have liked.

A special thank you to my silent readers who came by and left lovely comments. I really appreciate your visit and hope you stop by again.

A big thank you to our friend Hermione for carrying on this tradition and for all the hard work she puts in to make LOL a success.

And not forgetting my loyal readers who left comments - thank you.

Have a good week.



Thanks to Enzo for this year's image.

Friday, 15 November 2019

Come on In

Welcome, grab a chair and join me. We have another day for you our silent readers.

So many people pass through my blog from different parts of the world and I thank each and everyone one of you and I know many are too busy to stop and say hello, but I always love to hear from readers especially new ones. I know how hard it is to leave that first comment, I was there once myself, but now you're here, why not do it, go on, don't be bashful, no names needed no long story just a 'hello.' Today is your day.

I know that some of you for one reason or another will never leave a comment and that's fine by me as well as I am grateful for your visits and appreciate the time you spend reading my humble little blog.

If you pop over to Hermione's, she has a  list of bloggers who are joining in.

Oh, before you go - you did leave that comment, didn't you? :)

Have a fun weekend.


Wednesday, 13 November 2019

Don't forget...

....tomorrow is the start of our 2 day Love our Lurkers celebration when we encourage our silent readers to come out and leave a comment.

Hermione has all the details.

Hope to see you tomorrow.


Monday, 11 November 2019

Never Forget..., tomorrow everyday.

For the Fallen

They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam

This is only a part of the poem written by Laurence Binyon. Laurence was too old to enlist in the military forces so volunteered at a British hospital for French soldiers, working briefly as a hospital orderly. He returned in the summer of 1916 and took care of soldiers taken in from the Verdun battlefield.

Please join me in remembering all who went to war and never came home.

Also our service men and women who have been injured and to all those who are currently serving.