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Showing posts from January, 2016

Baring All

It will probably be no surprise to anyone reading this that I am quite comfortable being in a state of undress.
I have written before on the subject of self-image, and I am, I guess, quite fortunate. I have always been pretty comfortable in my own skin and always been fairly relaxed about letting it all hang out. That’s not to say that I like all bits of my body equally. There are bits that I am not particularly fond of; my lopsided ears for example and my double chins.  The latter I can partially excuse on my hypothyroidism, the ears, however, I was born with.  There are other bits that I think are actually pretty good. Thirty odd years of running up and down rugby pitches has meant my legs (especially thighs and calves) are in pretty good shape, and the upper body strength required for the game means that my shoulders and chest are pretty well developed (although this causes issues finding shirts/jumpers/etc. that fit me in the sleeve).
There are other bits that I’m fairly ambivalen…

Cheating

It’s one of those perennial “truth or dare” type questions that comes around now and again. Have you ever cheated? If so, what were the reasons behind it, and how did you feel afterwards? The honest answer to this question is: “Yes“. I’m not proud of the fact, despite the fact that some may say I had justification for doing so; but yes, I have cheated.
The circumstances, and I am not attempting to justify my actions, were difficult. My (then) wife had had at least three affairs that I was aware of. While not exactly turning a blind eye to such things, for the sake of my marriage and the fact that, despite this, I did love her, I was prepared to live with it. We were together for 16 years.
It was only in the last few, painful, months that I finally strayed myself.
Some might think it was a form of retaliation; it wasn’t. I didn’t actually go looking for someone else to have sex with, it just happened. The fact that the woman involved was, herself, married, only added to the generally f…

Her Taste

Her Taste
by Kilted Wookie

He looked down on her as she lay, naked, on the bed before him; her legs open, inviting. He feasted on her with his eyes; drinking in her dark hair and pale skin. Her emerald eyes flashed as she smiled up at him.
She flinched as he ran his fingertips up and down the inside of her thighs; dragging his nails lightly over her skin. Again and again, the fingers approached, and each time she wondered if this time would be the time that he touched her soft, lower lips. Each time, to her increasing torment, just when it felt that he had to touch her, his fingers drew away.
Time passed, and his lips replaced his fingers. The sensations changed, but the torment remained. Approach, retreat… Approach, retreat… Each time, the warmth of his breath, the closeness of his mouth to her most sensitive of skin caused her to shiver.
He could see the tension in her build. He could feel it in the tightness of her thighs as he kissed them. Her lips glistened with her moisture. Her…

The Tube

The Tube
by Kilted Wookie

The carriage was packed with the rush hour hordes. Bodies crammed together uncomfortably; commuters sharing their discomfort with a stoic lack of eye contact.
Once again, the train shuddered to a halt.
She staggered against him; mumbled an apology. He smiled down at her in unspoken reassurance that no apology was required. Their eyes met, breaking the unwritten contract between those that travelled below London’s streets. She returned the smile, a twinkle of mischief in her emerald green eyes acknowledging the unintended intimacy.
A garbled announcement; something about a breakdown on the line ahead, an apology for the inconvenience. They smiled at each other again; a shrug of resignation, a symbol of their silent companionship.
Minutes ticked by; long, drawn out, minutes that slowly sapped the resolve of the crowded commuters.
He heard her sigh and felt her lean slightly against him. She looked up, fatigue clear in her face. Smiling, he shook his head, indic…

Private Dancer

Private Dancer
by Kilted Wookie

The lights are dimmed, the music plays, he sits on a seat in the middle of the floor. Sometimes his hands are tied behind the back of the seat, sometimes not, it depends on how much she wants to tease him.
She steps into the room wearing one of her sluttiest outfits; the kind of outfit that leaves little to the imagination. His eyes are immediately glued to her.
She walks up and runs her hand over his head, across his shoulders. She walks around and runs her fingers down his chest; unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. Her hand dips lower; her fingers trace the outline of the growing bulge in the front of his jeans.
The first song is spent simply teasing him; rubbing herself against him, sitting on his lap and ruffling his hair as she pulls his face towards her cleavage. She squirms on his lap, feeling his cock stiffen.
As the second song starts, she undoes his belt, opens up his jeans. Now it’s the turn of her mouth. She gently kisses his coc…