State of Origin. Round Two, 2022

Please don't expect a literary masterpiece. This is just a simple fictionalised recap of our most recent erm... 'event'. On the Eastern coast of Australia, the two major NRL states, Queensland and New South Wales have a yearly, three game battle called the State of Origin. In this series, players have to play for the state in which they were first selected to play NRL. It is a glorious excuse to drink excessively, scream obscenities at the television and wear blue for NSW or maroon for QLD.

My story includes gloryhole sex, some elements of incest and drug use. If those are not your things, then I apologies for any time you've wasted. Our couple's therapist encourages me to write these accounts. She doesn't read them, but insists the act of ordering my thoughts into a story helps sort emotions and identify areas where she may be able to help. So, enjoy. Hubby and I sure did.

The day before, I'm a mess of nerves. It's the same every time and hubby thinks it's very funny.

"You'll love it. You do this every time and then it's all I hear about for days. Besides, no pressure. Totally up to you."

He's a sweety but he's not going to get in a little room and suck all those cocks.

I am.

He took me to collect firewood thinking it might engage me and stop me overthinking. It was a great idea. We have a bar under the house these days and there is a little pot belly stove down there to warm the place up so the wood is kind of necessary and the active afternoon enjoyable.

"How many coming?" I asked as I throw another piece of fallen ironbark in the ute.

He waggled his eyebrows at me in reply. "As many as you like, my queen."

"Haha. How many, dickhead?"

"Seven or eight. Stu doesn't know if he can make it. Oh, not including your folk."

"Mum was keen."

"That she was."

"What time will they get here?"

"Dad said they'd leave around lunch time so maybe four o'clock. Your mum can help with prep and take a bit of the weight off you."

"Hardly anything left to do. All the meat and salads are ready. I just need you to put the little camp fridge in the playroom so I can put a few fizzy things in it for Mum and I."

The playroom... (Insert naughty giggle.) My friend Trish and her husband Doug introduced the concept to us years ago. Since then, we have made the tree-change to a small property three and a half hours inland from Brisbane. We still keep in contact with them but don't see them very often.

So, when we bought this old Queenslander house, one of the first projects Paul took on was building in a playroom for us. It's kind of an extension off the side of the downstairs bathroom. For whatever reason, the house has a fully appointed upstairs bathroom and s a smaller shower and toilet in a room downstairs where Paul built his bar. Our neighbour said one afternoon when visiting that this place used to be an old piggery and it was commonplace to have somewhere away from the house proper to clean up before going upstairs.

The reason Paul put the playroom next to the toilet was simple.

A gloryhole.

Just for me.

The playroom is accessed from outside the built-in downstairs and the toilet has a door opening into the bar area. We've since furnished the little room with some creature comforts like a little sink to wash hands etc and a small pantry to store toys, lubes, condoms and that sort of thing. The major feature of the room is a six-inch diameter hole in the sturdy chipboard panel that separates the toilet and the playroom.

It has a sliding panel that can be removed on the playroom side and a family photograph proudly hung, albeit at a strange height, that hides the hole from neighbours and visitors. This Sunday night will be our first opportunity to break in the new extension. This Sunday night Paul has invited his colleagues at the mill over for a boy's only State of Origin party, purportedly to christen his new bar.

I've met most of his mates from the mill over the last three months but not all of them. For the most part, they are ordinary, hard-working labourer types ranging in age from eighteen with a couple of men who are probably Dad's age. They are cheeky sods who are quick with a naughty but friendly flirt whenever I drop in to visit Paul.

Our kids are in their teens now and rolled their eyes at the thought of a work party. Jaden eighteen, has taken the opportunity to spend the weekend at his girlfriend's place and his younger sister Ebony sixteen, is staying with neighbours. The closest neighbours have a daughter in her class at high school and horses, so it was a natural solution for her. She loves horses. The promise that we'd consider getting one for her was the only way to sweeten her towards the move to the country.

We stacked the firewood in the box near the little potbelly and I watched as Paul dragged the camping fridge out the door and around the side to the playroom door. I've found some nice little bar fridges in town that we'll eventually install in there but there are no power points in there yet. Some led twelve-volt lights and the little fridge will run off the deep cycle battery we take camping. The little portaloo sits at one end of the space as well so fizzy drinks can be recycled if needed.

As a last-minute addition, I get my work laptop and take it downstairs to set up. Eventually we'll install security cameras to record things like Trish and Doug do, but for now I try and position the little lappy so that it can record the action.

"Oh! Great idea, babe. See..." He grabs me around the waist and squeezes a giggle out of me. "This is why I love you. Stress less lady. Come on, come and have a couple of beers while I get the barby set up."

His kiss is all heat and tongue and the sort of kiss that promises a lot more a little later on.

I watch him as he assembles the new barbecue. He's a good-looking man still. He's kept fit, actually got fitter since leaving the office and starting work out here in the mill. His arms are my favourite feature. He's not huge but they are big and strong and a constant promise of protection and warmth to me. There's a little fleck or two of grey above his ears these days but at least he still has all his hair. I love him.

The hardest thing to organise for tonight was the decoy. In Brisbane we just rang one of the hundreds of stripper agencies but out here those didn't exist. Thankfully, Mum was able to find one from Brisbane who was prepared to travel so long as accommodation was supplied in a nearby town for the evening. She cost us a cool thousand dollars, but when Paul told the fellas about her, they all chipped in a hundred.

So, it was boys only tomorrow night.

By sunset, the butterflies in my tummy were starting to turn into emus and my sweet man could tell.

"You go find a stool at the bar. I'll whip up something quick after I've had a shower and we'll have a couple of games of pool, hey?"

I just nod. A few games of pool and some beers sounds like just what I need. I listen to other women whinge about their partners all the time and wonder why they even bother. Really, if your relationship is that much hard work, why do it? Mostly it just reminds me to be very grateful for the wonderful dickhead that loves me.

He just makes it easy. We still sit and talk for hours without it feeling forced. We love fishing together and camping. He always makes time for us. He's really perceptive of my needs. It's easy to love him. He even shares this weird fetish that's consumed us. Sometimes I think he even gets off on it more than I do.

Trish and Doug share the same thing. They introduced us to the gloryhole thing by inviting us along to a 'poker' night. I'll write about that another time. But the basics were that Doug and his mates played poker and whoever won the hand, sat the next hand out and enjoyed the use of their gloryhole.

Behind which, Trish and I who had pretended to drive off for a girl's night out, sat and sucked dicks all night. They had a strict rule that 'eating aint cheating', that is sucking cocks only, no fucking allowed. One night as we lay in a sweaty cum smeared mess, Paul asked why I never fucked one of the cocks.

That led to a long, honest conversation about cheating and our relationship and ultimately Paul's admission that he found the idea of seeing me fuck another man aroused him beyond words but could only ever happen if it was with the anonymous safety of a gloryhole. He had been cheated on by an ex and the worst part of it was other people knowing and his feeling like they thought less of him. He was most certainly not interested in being belittled but most certainly interested in me enjoying myself with another mans cock anonymously.

He said that if I could, without hurting my self-esteem, fuck a stranger at the gloryhole for him to watch, that it would satisfy that craving to know what it looked like without it feeling like a betrayal. It took a long while to feel comfortable with that idea myself. I'll write about that later too. These days though, I am allowed to suck or fuck which ever dick comes through the hole that I want on two conditions.

He wears a rubber.

I record it for Paul.

Jesus, some of the hottest sex I've had over the course of our marriage has been lying in bed with my handsome hubby after a session and watching it all over again with him. He makes me tell him how each cock felt when it fucked me. He especially likes the bigger ones filling me up. There's nothing wrong his seven-inch cock, but it's a bit of a size kink he gets off on.

He has me tell him how many loads I swallowed or wore and how many condoms I filled and he pounds me over and over in reclamation.

I've spoken to a marriage counsellor about it. We went together. We weren't having problems in our marriage but in a conversation one night we wondered if we should be worried about possible pitfalls as a result of our naughty hobby.

We worked through it over several sessions and I personally gained a lot from them. For instance, I felt quite reassured that Paul sharing me anonymously did not mean he loved me any less. Neither did it mean that he saw me as a cheap slut to meanly share because he didn't value me. To the contrary, it seemed the act made him trust me more and brought us closer. Oh... And he has a voyeurism streak a mile wide.

Whatever... It works for us and has been wonderful for our relationship.

So Saturday night before I suck and fuck a bunch of cocks, we eat meat pies and potato fries. We play pool and drink beer and laugh. We are that couple. The one that still enjoy each other's company and still make each other laugh a lot. We are mates as well as lovers as well as parents.

Then we test out his sixty-five-inch plasma. Told you he was a size queen! It's mounted on the wall behind the bar. We got it last week from the local shops just for Sunday night. We tested it by taking the opportunity of a child-free night to watch porn while we played pool and laughed and forgot to take ourselves seriously.

I knew it was coming. The moment porn goes on the telly, there is going to be a dick in me. I wasn't disappointed.

"Clack. Thud. Rolllll" The black ball hit the middle pocket with confident force and rolled down the return with an ominous kind of drum roll.

He didn't miss a beat. Those strong arms grabbed me around the waist and lifted me giggling up on the table as his rough stubble scratched my lips and his tongue invaded me as thoroughly as he was shortly going to.

My tits were free in no time and he mauled them like a hungry bear. His hands... My god they were everywhere. My breasts, my back, my butt, my crack... and suddenly I was full of him. He'd spat on his fingers, wet his cock, used his fingers to spread me open and speared into me with a time practiced efficiency that made it just a single motion.

Oh god, I love his dick. In just moments, I am shuddering as I teeter on the edge of the table. The pain of the awkward surface against my butt as he ploughs into me is forgotten with the rising orgasm. My own whore mouth drowned out the sounds of porn from the television as I rose to a glorious peak and damn...

There it was. Something about this angle and that cock and this moment just exploded through me. I felt myself squirt around him and I felt him squirt inside me as he slammed each spurt of cum into me. We don't get it timed so perfectly all the time but more often than not this kind of thing happens. I don't usually squirt either. We have to work hard for that, but I guess anticipation and location and fuck it...

I'm not thinking anymore as he lifts me back to my wobbly legs and kisses me gently. Cum farts out of me as I try to walk and we giggle together like maniacs at the sound.

I slept soon after, nestled in his big strong arms as he gently snored behind me. I fell asleep feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

8=============>

The boys have all arrived and are milling around the bar enjoying some pre-game beers. The barbecue was a raging success and Mum and I wash up and stack the dishwasher. Those nervous feelings from yesterday have been completely replaced with unfettered excitement.

Earlier as I walked around chatting with Paul's mates and playing the host, I felt that warm glow of lust rising in me. Each time I shook a hand or kissed a cheek, I knew that later I would have that man's cock in my hand or my mouth. Every time I saw them after tonight, I would have a secret reason to smile at them in conversation.

Mum was feeling it too. She kept throwing me these cheeky looks and winking.

She's not my real mum. The incubator, my sister Laura calls her; the incubator fucked around on Dad and he met Rainey later. They were married in less than six months and have lived some mad fairy-tale ever since. Rainey is your typical hippy-dippy looking free soul. Hers is a sad story with a happy ending that I'll write about another time. For now, you just need to know she does not shave a single red hair off any part of herself. She grew up on a commune. She knew about me and my father and welcomed that relationship with open arms. She has always been more Mum to me than the woman who gave birth to me.

Oh, and she really, I mean REALLY, loves sex.

When I told Dad about the gloryhole thing, his first words were, "Wait till I tell Rainey. She'll be right in on that. Oh... If that's alright with you, bub?"

So, this evening as the commentator does all the pre-game yabbering about players and recaps and so on, she is just as excited as I am. The little pixie sized dreadlocked redhead pulls the plug from the sink, dries her hands on a towel and turns to smile up at me.

"Let's get this party started, Maddy."

So, we wander downstairs in our 'going out' dresses with handbags and phones and announce that we're leaving to go and enjoy a girl's night in town. We kiss our husbands goodnight and Rainey laughs when Joe, the foreman invites us both to stay for the stripper.

"You know I just might, I have been known to play both teams."

We leave the laughter fade behind us and walk out into the darkened yard to my car. Which we promptly drive down to the nearby truckstop, park and secure, then walk back along the mowed fence line to my house in the moonlight.

By the noise coming from under the house as we sneak in the side gate, the stripper must have arrived. Usually, I like to watch the girls myself, but as I mentioned, our tech set up isn't as advanced just yet as it was at our old place.

I let Mum in the outside door to the little room and she giggles at the crudity of it.

"I like what you've done with the place."

"Still a work in progress. Would you like a drink? I've got some of those vodka things, beer..."

I turn to find her pulling a big breath from a bubbling glass bong and laugh at her. "Vodka it is then."

"Ta bub." She says taking the drink and passing the bong.

"This isn't that mad hydro?" I ask.

"Nah. My own stuff. Mostly leaf. Little bit of tobacco in it to smooth it out."

The next forty minutes or so pass quickly as we laugh and chat and smoke and drink. Mum's naked. I swear the moment she gets inside closed doors, her first instinct is to shed her clothes. We talk freely. Paul insulated the little room really well. So well, that the cheering and leering sounds miles away. Eventually there's a quieter moment and I guess the stripper's leaving.

Then the night begins.

I can hear someone in the downstairs toilet beside us. They piss loudly into the bowl and then I hear rattles and bumps and light comes through the glory hole. A face lowers to the hole and my gorgeous hubby says, "Ready ladies?"

"Ready and waiting, big boy." Mum laughs beside me as I kiss my silly man through the hole.

"Have fun, babe. Don't forget the lappy."

"Oh shit, Mum." I say as I see Paul's cock come through the hole. He's half hard already. "Can you..." I nod at Pauls dick. "I have to set his up."

By the time I've got the laptop camera open and recording, when I move it to aim it correctly, the first thing I see on the screen is my Mum with my husband's cock all the way down her throat. She is frantically rubbing her clit as she bobs her throat on Paul's cock and I'm hurriedly shedding clothes and trying to get with the action.

Just in time, I kneel beside her in front of the hole and she pulls her mouth off his pulsing dick and I watch as a spurt of cum hits her face then I swallow my hubby's cock and take the next few pumps of cum. The rest I christen the playroom with. It's kind of fitting that it's Pauls cum to first splash against the floor and to paint his mother-in-law and me.

"Fucking insane, Rainey. Thanks ladies. Have a great night hey. I love you both." Paul moves from the hole and I can see him pulling his trousers up and doing up his belt.

We wash the cum from our mouths with a few sips of our drinks and smile knowingly at each other. It's on!

I was just listening to the sounds of our next, (our first guest really, I guess), open the toilet door and start peeing in the toilet when there was a gentle knock on the playroom door that made me jolt with alarm.

"Relax bub, just Dad. It's fucking freezing out here."

Mum opened the door and wrapped Dad in a big naked hug, then took the little fan heater and power-board from him, dragging the extension lead inside with it.

"Thanks Daddy." I hugged him and kissed his neck while he folded me in his arms. "Will you visit soon?"

He's usually last. Like he needs to claim us before it all finishes for the evening.

"Later bub." He kisses my forehead. "Rainey, I love you. You know that old girl, right?"

"Dickhead. Give me a kiss." She tells him and giggles over to wrap him in naked legs and arms and kiss him like something from a steamy movie. "Thanks for the heater. Fucking cold in here."

"Paul's idea. He didn't want Maddy's laptop going flat. And neither did I, sweet cheeks." He emphasises by slapping Mum playfully on the butt. "Better go... Games going alright. Don't want to miss-"

"You could stay and give your baby that load you were telling me about, lover." Mum teases him.

"I'll save that one for later. You know how I like to finish things off."

"Love you, wanker-head." Mum tugs his beard and makes him kiss her. "Now go on. Get back in there and bloke it up a bit."

"Love you too, Rainey. Have some fun darl."

"Already have. You know how much I love blowing your son in laws mind."

"He did look err... well blown." Dad chuckles and backs out the doorway. I'm plugging the lappy in and setting up the fan heater. The little potbelly just doesn't get through the insulation. In no time, I'm toasty warm and turning the heater down. There is also a fresh cock poking rudely through the hole and someone talking on their phone in the adjacent toilet.