Kilted Wookie's Naughty Hashtags

It starts, as it so often does, with an early morning text message. It’s not even a particularly naughty one; often no more than a “Good morning” or “Did you sleep well?” The scene, however, is already set.
As the morning progresses, the level of suggestion in the exchanged messages deepen.  Selected pins from Pinterest are used to convey desire, to express what is being felt, to emphasis what we would do if we weren’t miles apart, if the hours instantly passed and we were together.
The ante is upped as the quotes make way for the images from Tumblr; each one that little bit more explicit, more graphic than the last, each one a statement of intent.

As the day progresses we tease and arouse and seduce each other with words and images. She knows I long to taste her, to lick her and feast on her until she cums hard on the tip of my tongue. I know she wants to take me in her mouth, to lick and suck that part of me that she has made so hard.
We both know what we want and need, and that is …

Sensualism /ˈsɛnsjʊəˌlɪzəm/ noun the quality or state of being sensual When it comes to sex, I am all about the senses; the sounds, the feelings, the scents, the scenes and the tastes. Great sex combines each of these; taking those essential building blocks and building them into a whole that is so much more than their sum.

Humans are a visual species, and it is fair to say that what we see is what initially attracts us to another person. We each have our own measure of the qualities that we find visually appealing in a potential partner.

Vision, however goes much deeper than that. They is the voyeuristic pleasure of watching your partner arouse and pleasure themselves. There is the joy that comes from watching their response to your attentions; the involuntary twitches and shakes, the changes of expression, the sinuous arching of their backs as the pleasure builds within them.

I am, by my own admission, an extremely tactile person. I love touch and I loved to be touched. I love th…

Every now and then it becomes a necessity; there is a need to step away.  The blogging/twitter community is a wonderfully supportive group, but sometimes space is needed.
It’s not that unusual for me to shut myself off from the world periodically. My mood, and indeed my general personality, tend to mean that I prefer/require a degree of solitude.
Depression itself can be a very solitary condition. It has a tendency to focus thoughts, feelings and emotions in on sufferer’s sense of self. It leads us to withdraw, to shut ourselves off, to distance ourselves from those who care for us because we feel we are a burden, that our own pain brings those around us down.
When the black cloud descends, it is difficult to see beyond it. It seems impossible that anyone would want to have anything to do with us, let alone love/care for us; especially as we feel incapable of doing these things for ourselves. It can, and does, put a strain on friendships and relationships. So once again, I find myself…

Dispassionate /dɪsˈpæʃənɪt/ noun devoid of or uninfluenced by emotion or prejudice; objective; impartial My daily job is one that requires me to be objective and impartial. I go to great lengths not to prejudge and to weigh up the evidence in front of me before I make a decision. On Saturdays, on the rugby field, I have to make those decisions instantly and without hesitation, applying the laws of the game fairly and consistently.
It is also true that I am not particularly given to, or indeed comfortable with, public displays of emotion. I have a tendency to have a very fixed demeanour in the company of others.

However, for this post, I am concentrating on the “devoid of or uninfluenced by emotion” part.

As is the case with so many of us who struggle with mental illness, I tend to wear a mask in my day-to-day dealing with my fellow humans. It is a mask that I tend to keep very firmly fixed in place.

To the outside world, it does perhaps seem that I am without emotion, cold, reserved, …

TRIGGER WARNING: This post will probably make me sound like a massive bellend/pious twat. Filthy…Dirty…Illicit…Sinful…Wicked…Bad… All words that are frequently used to describe aspects of sex. Also words that are used in the names of some of my favourite blogs and blogging memes; blogs and memes that promote body/image/sex positivity.
Yet, despite all the good things about these, I have one niggling problem them; the names.
Now, I must emphasise that I am not having a go at the bloggers and writers involved. The problem isn’t with their blogs, or what they write, or the photos they post. After all, I participate in these memes, posting both my writing and photos. My problem is with the language. Not the language used by my fellow bloggers/writers you understand, just the language that has grown up around sex itself.
Now, when it comes to writing about sex, I am as “guilty” as everyone else; I describe it as dirty/filthy/naughty/etc. The problem is, the negative connotations of these wo…

I came across this recently. Apparently it’s a fairly common meme with numerous variations on the same theme.  Thing is, bollocks like this really pisses me off; not least of all because it is precisely that: utter bollocks.
Let me explain…
I’ve given flowers. They are a gesture. Sometimes they are a “thank you”, sometimes they are a “sorry”; mostly they mark a specific occasion like a birthday, a wedding, a funeral, that sort of thing.  I have never given flowers in the expectation of, or in thanks for sex.
Now, some of you who give blow-jobs may, on occasion, give them as a “thank you” or a “sorry”; if that’s your thing, that’s cool. Whatever works is fine.
To me, however, flowers are flowers and blow-jobs are blow-jobs. If you want to give me flowers, fine; if you want to give me a blow-job, even better. Actually, given that I have an insufferably low pollen tolerance threshold, if you were inclined to give me flowers, I’d rather you saved your money or gave me a card/bought me a d…

Is it possible to have a long-term “no-strings” sexual relationship?
At a first glance, the question above seems like a fairly straightforward one.
Looking at it more closely, it is a bit less so. To start with, what is actually meant by “no-strings”?
The chances are, if you are reading this, you have engaged in some sort of casual sexual activity at some point in your life; by which I mean sex that didn’t really mean much, but that was probably enjoyable enough because it was sex. Now, in my opinion, casual sex can absolutely be, “no-strings” attached. You see someone, you fancy them, they fancy you, you fuck them, you both walk away – no questions asked, no expectation of commitment; simply, if you are fortunate, a mutually sexually gratifying experience. If the experience was particularly enjoyable/satisfying, you might even choose to repeat it, but ultimately that’s as far as it goes.
The contradiction at the heart of the above question is “no-strings” and “relationship”; can this…

Dissociation /dɪˌsəʊsɪˈeɪʃən; -ʃɪ-/ adjective the act of dissociating or the state of being dissociated It’s one of those strange feelings that, I suspect, many of us who suffer from depression and other forms of mental illness experience. It is an odd feeling of being separated from one’s self. It’s as though there is an actual gap between our spirit and our physical selves; a feeling that we don’t fully fill our physical bodies.
It’s an oddly disconnected feeling; that somewhere between my skin and my soul there is a black void of nothingness. It’s as if I am lost within a hollowed out shell of my own being.
It is a form of detachment. Not of detachment from the outside world, which is all too common an experience, but a detachment of spirit and body, where the former retreats into the darkest recesses of the latter to hide away and lick its wounds.
KW

To me, the question as to which is the most important sexual organ is, if you’ll pardon the mixed oxymoron, a no-brainer.  It is the mind that interprets the stimuli received by our senses, it is the mind that generates desire. It is our mind that creates the eroticism of words and images, and it is our mind that dictates our responses. Different parts of my body are assigned different tasks; my lips are assigned the task of kissing you, my tongue gets then task of licking you, my fingers get the job of caressing you and my cock gets given responsibility for fucking you. It is, however, my mind that is control of each action; orchestrating and coordinating the sensual whole.
I will admit that I used to use contact/hook-up sites (Twitter isn’t really one of those, now, is it?). The biggest and most common complaint from women using these sites was about the lack of originality/imagination shown by the male users. All too often, it seems, “communication” from us men was a picture of our…

Beauty, they say, is only skin deep. Sexy, on the other hand, goes right to the core. So what do we mean by sexy? Is it appearance, is it an attitude, or is it just some unfathomable quality that you see in someone?
Humans are a visual species, so it is impossible, I think, to completely divorce sexiness with physical attractiveness, but in my opinion, the two are not inextricably linked. While everyone has their own “standards” of what they find attractive in another person, simply finding them attractive does not necessarily mean that you also find them sexy.
Sexy is something more than just the physical. It may be an attitude, but what attitude?
Many people say they find confidence sexy; I’m one of them. At the same time, however, I would also say that I find a sexiness in vulnerability too.
I think much depends on the person; it also depends on the circumstances, and the situation.
In a club, the way someone moves when the dance may make them sexier than the other members of their …

Insular /ˈɪnsjʊlə/ adjective of, relating to, or resembling an islandremote, detached, or aloofisolated or separated The English poet, John Donne, famously wrote in 1624: No man is an iland The modern version of this is, of course: “no man is an island”.
Now, this may be true, but for those of us who battle mental illness, the feelings of being remote, detached, isolated or separated from the rest of the world are all too frequent. All to often it is easier to simply draw ourselves away, shut ourselves off from the world rather than to explain why we are the way we are and feel the way we do. Even the most well intentioned enquiries as to our well-being can cause a rush of anxiousness that makes us retreat.
Sometimes we do it because we cannot cope with the outside world. Sometimes we do it because we believe it’s better not to inflict ourselves upon others, especially those we love and care for the most.
We become reclusive, shunning contact from friends, family and loved ones just as…

I am completely open about my illness. It is a part of me and, much as I would rather it were otherwise, it has played a major part in making me the person I am. It is such an ingrained part of me that I cannot even begin to imagine what life without it would be like. It never lets me forget. Even in those periods where I have the illusion of having it under some sort of control, when I am free from the worst symptoms, it is always there, lurking in the background, reminding me that it can return, without any warning at a time of its choosing.
Life is a daily battle. It’s a battle where the only “victory” to be had is to stave off total surrender and defeat. I know it’s a battle I can never win; the very best I can hope for is some soul-sapping rear-guard action – retreat, regroup, then retreat again.
It is tiring. Not just a physical tiredness, but an emotional tiredness, a spiritual tiredness; a tiredness that burrows its way into your very core.
There is no escape, nowhere to hide.…

It’s not just about the pain that it inflicts on the receiver; although that can be a big part of it sometimes, it is about so many other things.
Firstly, it’s about trust. It’s the trust that the receiver has in you, knowing that you are going to cause pain, but trusting you to keep it to what is acceptable.
It’s about exploring boundaries. Linked in with the trust mentioned above, there is the exploration of limits, of taking things that little bit further, of pushing the person on the receiving end to take that little bit more and, for them, trying to determine their own levels of endurance.
It’s about the senses. There is something animal, something primal about the sound of skin striking skin. There is something about that particular sound of hand coming into contact with buttock that has an electric feel about it; it echoes and reverberates in a way that is uniquely alone. There are the moans and cries of the receiver as the pain and the heat grow with each contact, the sheer an…

RelationshipsWhy would you go to a therapist?
a. You need support
b. You want to take responsibility for your life’s outcomes?
c. You need guidance and to be told what to do
I have been to a therapist/counsellor because of my depression. I went because I need some extra support. I needed to discuss what was in my head with someone on the outside, who wasn’t directly involved or affected by my moods. Seeking help was a way of taking back some element of control when my depression had dragged me down to the very bottom.
Thinking of the main lover in your life, what is sex for her:
a. stress relief, tension reliever
b. a way to show love
c. something exciting she likes to do
I would think that it is a combination of all three to some extent, but primarily it would be something that she enjoys doing and wants to do. The fact that it is me that she wants to do it with is something I never take for granted.
Do you feel a partner is being invasive for wanting to know your plans and inner tho…