Kilted Wookie's Naughty Hashtags

I’ve never been a great sleeper. Even when my mood is relatively “good”, sleep is not something that comes naturally easily to me. When, as is currently the case, my mood is at the lower end of its cycle, sleep becomes rare indeed. At the moment everything is out of kilter. During the working week, I can consider myself fortunate if I manage more than a couple of hours of unbroken sleep during the course of a night, and I seldom manage more than a total of four or five hours. The quality of the sleep I manage to get is generally pretty poor. By the time the weekend rolls round, I am pretty much running on empty. It’s not unheard of for me to spend an entire weekend curled up on the sofa. This, of course, is counter-productive. Most sleep discipline theories say that I should keep the same routine at the weekends as I do during the week; getting up at the same time, and going to bed at the same time. My mind knows this. All my body knows is that it is exhausted. It is a ment

Despondent /dɪˈspɒndənt/ adjective downcast or disheartened; lacking hope or courage; dejected It’s a feeling that those of us who live with mental health conditions know only too well. It comes from the inevitability of finding ourselves back at the at the lowest point of the cycle. Friends tell us that we are brave, or that we are stronger than we know, but really we are just sick in our souls. Such words of encouragement, no matter how well intentioned, are merely empty sounds; they have no power to penetrate the dark place at the centre of our being. We know, even during our better times, that the bad times will almost certainly return. This casts a constant shadow, colouring our thoughts and feelings. It’s always there. It is a shadow that needs no light to cast it. KW

Sexy Time Have you ever had sex in the changing room of a store? Yes. John Lewis in Edinburgh. It was 1990 and my girlfriend at the time worked there. It was her lunch break. Ever blindfolded your partner for sex or have you been blindfolded during sex? Both. There is a certain additional excitement from being in a position where you get no visual clues as to what your partner will do next. Who out there likes to be tied up for sex? I’ve allowed myself to be restrained on occasion, but I much prefer to be the one that is actually doing the tying than being then one who is tied. Shower sex…yea or nay? Why? Not fussed either way. Penetration can be a bit awkward when the woman is considerably shorter than me. Caressing and stroking and feeling the warm water on our bodies is nice though. Ever done a striptease for a lover? No, but a lover has done one for me. Add in some of the restraint I mentioned in #3 above and the whole “look but can’t touch, (although can be touched and

It’s probably not a surprise that this is not one of my cheerier posts. I have been down the proverbial hole for a while now, but for some reason, over the past couple of days, I’ve been in free fall. Fortunately, I’m quite lucky that my well meaning close circle know better than to do the whole “cheer up” or “it could be worse” thing. They even know to avoid the “oh, that’s awful” and “poor you” and “hope you get through it soon” thing. The one thing that I can’t quite get them over is the “do you know what’s caused it?” thing. I know they mean well, but that question really irks me. The thing is, nine times out of ten, I don’t know what the specific trigger that sets a given episode off is. Nor do I know why sometimes I am able to ride them out without too much pain, whereas, on other occasions (e.g. this time) I plummet deep, fast and hard. I know the underlying cause; i.e. I have a chemical deficiency/imbalance in my brain. I know that certain situations are more li

It’s almost 16 years to the day since I wrote my first erotic story way back in 2001. It wasn’t particularly good, but it was a start. I wrote it because, having read a fair bit of erotica on sites like Literotica ; while a lot of it was extremely well written, much of it was atrocious. There was, sadly, particularly among male “authors”, a tendency to write pieces that were less arousing and more mechanical descriptions of sex. The sex was simply a description of the positions they did it in, how many strokes of his cock until he came, how much he enjoyed it, and how quickly he got hard again so he could do it all again. The characters were, at best, one dimensional. The man was extremely proud of how large/hard his cock was, how hard he could fuck, how long he could last and how good his orgasm felt. The woman was, almost invariably a stunning blonde, with huge tits and existed solely as the possessor of orifices for the male character to fuck with absolutely no regard to her en

Dispirited /dɪˈspɪrɪtɪd/ adjective low in spirit or enthusiasm; downhearted or depressed; discouraged For me, I generally find that this almost my default setting. I wake in the morning feeling anything but refreshed. I have no enthusiasm for the coming day. I drag myself along through a mixture of instinct and routine. To the outside world, it makes me seem distant, impassive, cold, possibly uncaring. If I’m being honest, there are times when that is exactly what I wish I could be. If I didn’t care, it wouldn’t matter how I felt. If I could retreat from view, I wouldn’t need to wear my mask. It’s not a sense of defeat. Defeat by its very nature implies a commitment of effort that was insufficient to overcome the challenge. It is more a sense of despondency, a shoulder shrug to the world, a sort of indifference, divorced from the the outside world. Of course, we are never completely detached, no matter how much we would wish to be in our darkest phases; and we d

Yes, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, ‘Hold on a minute here, Mr Wooks, you’re a guy, you don’t have a vagina, why are you commenting on this?’ If you aren’t thinking that, then you would have been forgiven if you had been. Yes, I am a guy and, no, I do not possess one of these wonderful objects of my own. I have, however, got to know quite a few of them intimately over the past 20+ years or so, so I think I have a certain perspective. Pussies (I hate that word, even though I love that part of your body; I'm much more of a "cunt" man) like penises, come in all shapes, sizes and configurations and they are all amazing. Without exception, of the pussies I have known, I love the feel of them around my cock, I love the taste of them on my tongue . I love how warm and inviting they are. I love how wet they become. Basically, I just love them. In the same way that we men can get hung up about our cocks, I know that women can have issues with their puss

The Psychology of Sex For you, can sex be separated from love? Yes. Absolutely. Sex within the context of a loving relationship can add an extra layer of intimacy and feeling to it, but at the end of the day, sex and desire are simply physical responses. Combining them can be fantastic, but it is not essential. I haven’t had sex with everyone I have loved and neither have I loved everyone I have had sex with Can sex be separated from caring? Again, yes it can. I’m fairly certain that people who commit sexual assault do not care about their victims. Does sex seem to be something that you can never get enough of and are constantly seeking or thinking about? No. Well, I’ll caveat that. Maybe not so much in my 40s as I did in my late teens and 20s. It’s not something I give much conscious thought to at all, and I’m happy with the amount I get.  That’s not to say I wouldn’t gladly have more, but it’s not something I lose sleep over (apart from when I’m actually “losing sleep” doing

It’s no secret that I have a “thing” for black and white photography. It would, I guess, have made sense if I tackled this week’s prompt by perhaps focusing it around one of my own photos. I was actually tempted, but then I thought I’d come at it, as it were, from a slightly different perspective. So, instead of focusing on imagery, I decided to look at “grey areas”. Relationships and, in particular, sexual relationships, all have their own dynamics; their own “rules” that make them work.  Each relationship is as unique as the individuals that make it up, and as such, there are no absolute “right” or “wrong” answers to the particular question I decided to ponder; there are only answers that are “right” or possibly “wrong” to the individuals in a relationship, within the context of that particular relationship. The particular question in question was, courtesy of an article in a popular free newspaper often found on public transport, this: In a monogamous relationship what const

Sex  on the Brain Is a weird “sex face/orgasm face” a total deal-breaker? Simple answer “No”. Nine times out of ten I’m probably face down between her thighs when she’s doing her “O” face, so it’s not something I see often anyway. That said, I love seeing that dreamily content “being fucked” look on her face. Do you enjoy having your balls played with? This is a trick question? I’m male, what do you think? Yes, yes and thrice YES!!! Have you ever hooked-up with somebody based on their proximity to your smartphone location (Tinder, GRINDR, etc)? Not based exactly on location, although, through Twitter, we did once discover that we would both be at a the same venue on a particular date and we did, of course, take advantage of this situation. You have some free-time in the workday–blow job or intercourse? (BJ can be giving or receiving). Depends how much free-time we’re talking about. but all variations on the theme, including me going down on her, have happened at some point. I

First times… Memories… The sexual journey has so many firsts. The first snog, the first feel of a boob, the first time you see someone/someone sees you naked, the first hand-job/fingerfuck, the first blow-job/licking a girl’s cunt, the first fuck. So many, many different firsts. All new, all exciting (hopefully), all more than just a little nerve-racking, and all of them discoveries of the things we like/dislike as we embark on a journey that, if we’re lucky, we will continue upon for the rest of our lives. But what counts as a sexual first? Is it the same thing for both partners? Where does teenage hormone-fuelled fumbling cross the line and become sexual activity? For me, the first “sexy” thing I did was playing with a girl’s boobs. First outside her clothes, then moving under her top, then under her bra; teasing her nipples with my fingers before moving on to my lips and tongue. I remember the noises she made as I touched them; how they changed with every new experience. I

Can a penis be too big? Apparently they can. I’m fairly certain mine is pretty average. Certainly, I’ve never had any complaints one way or the other. Can a vagina be too tight? I’ve never encountered one that was. That said, if in doubt, lube, lube and more lube. I am being slightly facetious here as I appreciate that vaginismus can be a serious and sexually debilitating condition that no amount of lube can ease in extreme cases. Does playing with fake tits give you the same satisfaction and response as fondling real breasts? I’ve never (knowingly) played with cosmetically enhanced boobs so I genuinely don’t know. I suspect the difference would be noticeable. Fill in the blank: I prefer ____ over having sex. When I’m having sex, there’s nothing I prefer. When I’m not having sex, I prefer the little things like, eating, drinking, breathing, you know, the daily essentials. If a stranger offered you $30 US to lick your boots or shoes, while you are wearing them, would you

It is often stated that porn, it seems, has decided that women should be hairless from the eyelids down. Now, whether or not porn is actually responsible (I have my doubts as people are capable of determining their own preferences, without having them rubbed in their faces, as it were) it is a look that many women chose, for whatever reason, subscribe to. Now, on the subject of rubbing my face in it,  as a man who has spend a lot of time with my head between women’s thighs, I will admit that there is something particularly appealing about going down on a lovely, smooth cunt; being able to explore every nook, every fold with my tongue as I take her (hopefully) on a journey to orgasm. I also know a few women who, having embraced the bare look, say that it increases the sensations for them, the friction on their clit is so much more intense because there is no barrier. Now all of this is fine and good, and I would never tell anyone how they should, or indeed shouldn’t style their inti

Incorrigible /ɪnˈkɒrɪdʒəbəl/ adjective beyond correction, reform, or alteration firmly rooted; ineradicable ( philosophy ) (of a belief) having the property that whoever honestly believes it cannot be mistaken I would never describe myself as being “beyond correction”. Indeed, I’d be very surprised if there weren’t a single day that passes when I am not corrected on some aspect of something I have said or done. I am, however, pretty much beyond reform or alteration, a lost cause, a hopeless case. These are not necessarily bad things, just a statement of who I am and the way I perceive myself to be. I am, however, comfortable in who I am. There are times when I don’t particularly like myself; my depression leads me often into periods of dark self-loathing. My depression is, however, for good or ill, a part of who I am. It’s a part of what makes me the person the people who like me like. They might wish I were generally happier in life, but they too recognise that my d