Jemma s lockdown awakening
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Jemma's Lockdown Awakening Part 2 free porn video
The dawn chorus is early in June, the sweet chirping of the birds
outside welcoming another day in lockdown. My eyes open slowly the sun
light emerging through my new light purple blinds seemingly encasing
the room and me in girlie pinkish delight. That dream again, me, light
as air running faster and faster but going nowhere whilst my skirt
pleats dance up and round my bare legs.
I gently sweep the blonde wavy strands from my face and tug the cotton
fabric of my nightie down from my tummy to my thighs, it seems so
instinctive but gosh happily relieved that no one saw such a girlie
gesture.
It had seemed such delicious fun at first during lockdown. Rachel and I
had really connected as we accepted this was a chance to really hunker
down and make things work. Just us, together, the outside world like a
planet far away.
We had agreed to be really honest, to explore all our feelings and
after that extra glass of rose, I just felt the layers falling away,
the key to the lock of my inner mind and turmoil being gently opened.
She listened carefully and encouraged me as I recalled those feelings
of totally emptiness back when I just a boy. Blushing slightly I felt
my head turning shyly away from her gaze.
"Go on honey," as she poured another glass and then relaxed on the sofa
her legs all curled up and comfy next to a velvet embroidered cushion.
I tried to explain that sudden jolt we all remember. You know that day,
Im sure you do if you are reading this, when as a boy you sense that
sudden crushing feeling as you realise that there's this invisible wall
that you just can't break through, as much as you try.
You look at the pretty pastel colours, the such light and floaty skirts
and flouncy dresses, notice every detail every pleat in the
skirt....and feel that familiar ache of exclusion.
Lovely patent leather shoes with a cute buckle strap, sometimes a
punched floral design and others a small heel.
Oh, you can even remember the first day painted nails were allowed in
school, envy the light lipgloss and quietly are drawn to the powerful
yet delicate little silver necklaces.
I had so wished to join them linking together and thrilling over each
new discovery. As for the hair.... those ribbons and plaits so carefully
done by proud mothers to match summer dresses. And those shiny and
sparkling hair clips entrancing me and calling to my inner soul.
Sometimes, I'm sure they caught me staring but they probably thought I
was just another silly boy.
"The 'clip' of the clasp closing on the pretty barrette as I walked by
all shy in my black jacket, drab navy blue trousers and bland shoes.
Chasing butterflies in the park whilst I kicked a ball by myself."
I said all this, really it came out like a flood and Rachel just sat
there and listened, eventually, hugging me and telling me all would be
ok as she gently patted my hair and let me snuggle close to her.
Meekly I looked up and continued:
"I just wanted to be like the others that's all Rachel to be accepted,
is that so wrong. To be allowed to adore little flowers, sit quietly
and have my hair brushed and put in bunches and this is really
personal, even to sit as a girl when I needed to go."
That night had brought well an embarrassing intensity we had been
missing for years but as I awoke, tired and dreamy, the bed was empty
and already things felt different as I looked round the bed, naked
under the duvet and wondering where my pyjama shorts could be.
Well they said sometimes decades happened in weeks and weeks in decades
and I wryly smiled as I headed downstairs. My thoughts were jolted
walking in the kitchen, her handwriting on the schedule for Sunday
reminding me of "Jemma's ballet" in case I could forget. The feeling of
the little leotard yesterday was still fresh in mind, it had felt so
soft and right but to dance in front of others, well.
I quickly made her morning cup of tea but then I always had before
lockdown. It was a little ritual since we had married. Last thing
before heading for the commuter train had always been a gentle kiss on
her forehead in our bedroom and tea by her bedside table, her eyes
sleepy and soft. I reassuringly still brought the tea, but this time I
knocked before entering her room. Tea on a tray was gracefully placed
on the bedside table reassuringly our wedding photo still there to
remind me I was her husband, welI?
I looked around ....of course, this was really my bed as well,wasn't it
dear reader, our lovely king size bed ? And yes, looking around there
was the familiar large white closet surely still filled with my
pristine designer Boss shirts and dark navy Italian suits. My brogues
and loafers.
A comforting thought that lockdown would soon be over and we would all
go back to our normal lives. Rachel to her accountancy firm and me to
the City, the whirlwind of lunches and banter and male self importance.
The trappings of success and girls in their tight clingy skirts always
vying for my attention as they sauntered round the office. How I used
to smirk as I caught sight of their panty line clinging to their
bottoms and dancing past me, their yearning to be noticed or so I
thought.
"Your hair is growing so prettily Jemma it really suits you," she said
and I turned and smiled back. I relished every compliment, these days.
Smiling sweetly I headed to the door, gently lifting the hem of the
nightie in my finger tips so not to trip and headed for the door. It
didn't feel like my bedroom now as I headed across the landing to my
little bedroom a little pink sign on the door "Jemma's room" case I
need a gentle reminder.
'Jemma please keep the music down a little' as I sat on my bed,
listening to Niall Horan. It was true, the barbers would soon be open
but did I really want my haircut again? Even the word 'barbers' didn't
sound right anymore. And would those suits just be too big now on me,
hanging off my shoulders and the trousers coarse and itching against my
skin?
I twiddled with my curls wondering what the future held, would lockdown
ever finish but remembering tomorrow was Sunday and my first zoom
ballet class.
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