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Showing posts from January, 2018

Word for Wednesday - Chemistry

Chemistry /ˈkɛmɪstrɪ/ noun thebranchofphysicalscienceconcernedwiththecomposition,properties,andreactionsofsubstancesthecomposition,properties,andreactionsofaparticularsubstancethenatureandeffectsofanycomplexphenomenon:thechemistryofhumour(informal) areaction,takentobeinstinctual,betweentwopersons Attraction… Seduction… Desire… Passion… Lust…

Who can define it?

I could go all “science” and talk about the chemical reactions, the release of substances such as dopamine and serotonin when we see someone we “want to get to know better”, but it’s so much more than that.

It’s that mutual spark, the knowing that there is a potential for “something”. That recognition that you both share something that, if circumstances allow, would have you ripping each other’s clothes off with wanton abandon.
It’s not words, it’s not looks. It can involve these but it is so much more; a deeper inexplicable connection. You know you want each other; it’s a hunger that needs satiating.

It is, chemistry…

KW

Dominant Language & The BDSM Test

So, the other night, I was chatting to a friend about the language I use in my stories. More specifically, I was discussing the language used in my stories by which the Dominant addresses his submissive. In some stories, the Dominant will use harsh terms like  “slut” or “whore”; whereas in others, the Dominant will address his submissive in softer, endearing  terms, e.g. “little one”.
Now, in real life, I favour the latter approach myself. I’m not averse to using “derogatory” terms if the situation merits it. Certainly, in my writing, I try to match the language to dynamic of the scene that is unfolding.
In real life, however, I am a bit of a big softie. For me, the role of the Dominant is to cherish, guide and support his submissive, helping him or her to grow and fulfil themselves. Yes, that can involve discipline, but where it does, such discipline should be proportionate and never just for discipline’s sake. It needs to be part of a lesson, part of the instruction, the direction th…

Cunnilingus

I can’t actually remember what prompted me to go down on girl for the first time. I just remember that, at some point, I found myself face down between the legs of the girl in question and my tongue was lapping her cunt. I wouldn’t describe myself as having an addictive disposition, but with that first taste, I was hooked.
I loved the rich flavour of her juices; but more than that, I loved her reaction. I’d made her cum before using my fingers, but this was something different. I suspect it was the novelty of the experience more than my technique.  Let’s be honest, I hadn’t a clue what I was supposed to do; but whatever I was doing, she was enjoying it. Her hand was in my hair, pulling me towards her and, after the initial shock had worn off, she started letting me know which combination of speed, pressure and location worked for her. When I added a finger or two into the mix, she came so hard and so violently, I ended up (I discovered later) with bruises in the small of my back where…

Self Edging

Orgasms are great; I am a big fan of orgasms. It’s that final, exquisite agony of release as you let go, and the pressure and tension, quite literally, comes surging out.
Fantastic as orgasms are, however, they aren’t actually the best bit. For me, it’s the bit just before orgasm that is part I enjoy most. Whether I am with a partner or taking myself in hand, I will almost invariably attempt to draw those last wonderfully agonising moments out for as long as possible.
I know that the longer I can hold on, the longer I can deny myself, the more explosive, the more intense the sensations of my final release will be.
As the tension inside me grows, I vary the pace, slowing down slightly. When I’m on my own, I will loosen my grip as my cock begins to throb in my hand. I’ll lift my fingers from the shat and concentrate on the head with just my thumb and forefinger; stopping to squeeze occasionally if the need threatens to overwhelm me.
As the pressure builds, I can feel the insides of my t…

Word for Wednesday - Hedonism

Hedonism /ˈhiːdəˌnɪzəm; ˈhɛd-/ noun ethics(a) thedoctrinethatmoralvaluecanbedefinedintermsofpleasure(b) thedoctrinethatthepursuitofpleasureisthehighestgoodthepursuitofpleasureasamatterofprincipleindulgenceinsensualpleasures I am a sensualist. When it comes to sex, I am all about the senses; the more the senses are involved, the more intense the experience.
Sight Men are, apparently, visual creatures. I am no exception. I’m not just talking about the enjoyment of seeing my partner naked; although that is part of it. It’s about seeing their reactions. How a certain touch makes them respond. The involuntary twitches/flinched, the changes in their expression; it’s a form of visual feedback that is, in itself, a rewarding experience.
Sound Sound is such a strong sensual element of sex. There are the sounds your partner makes; the moans, the gasps, the sighs, the verbal tics that demonstrate their pleasure. There are the sounds of leather striking skin, the sounds of the bed protesting beneat…

TMI Tuesday - Tell the Truth

Tell theTruthA friend gave you a pie touting it as a favourite family recipe, and you ate this pie and got sick–or had an allergic reaction. The friend calls a few days later to ask, “How did you like the pie?” What would you say?
I would have to be honest and say I got sick (as it may have had some off ingredients) or an allergy (so that they know not to give me the same thing again). I would also let them know that, despite the unfortunate consequences, whether or not I liked it.
Your significant other really wants to try the “swingers’ lifestyle” but you really do not want to do this. Do you:
a. Tell him/her no, you are not interested
b. Do it, and go along to make her/him happy
c. Say yes, because you’ll try anything once
d. Say no, with no explanation and forbid your significant other from venturing into swinging.
Well, as I personally would have no problem with this whatsoever, I suspect my first reaction would be to look into how we could make it happen. There is a swingers club i…

Watching

Much as I enjoy being responsible for my partner’s orgasm, there is something intensely arousing and intimate when I watch her pleasure herself.
I love to watch as she slides her hands over her body; stroking, touching, pinching and flicking. I love listening to the sounds she makes as she turns her self on, her arousal slowly deepening. I love to watch the expressions on her face, the widening of her eyes, the trembling of her lip as she finds a particularly sensitive spot.
I know that she knows I am watching and getting turned on by what I see. It may have started out as a show for me, but as her arousal glows, it becomes less and less about me and, as it should, more and more about her.
She sighs as she tugs sharply on her nipples. She moans as she slowly works one, then two fingers inside herself.
I smile, as she raises her fingers, glistening with her juices to her lips and tastes herself, moaning as she enjoys her own flavour.
Her fingers slide more rapidly; in and out, twisting as s…

It Started With A Dick Pic Rant

Before I go any further, I should point out that I was coerced; honest m’lud…
I’ll get to the meat of this (as it were) in a bit, but first of all, I’ll back up a bit.
Under the guise of my hirsute alter ego, I had been tweeting and posting naughty stories since early 2011. I had, in fact, been posting stories online since about 2001, but it was during a period of illness in early 2011 that I discovered twitter, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Although I had a blog, of sorts, on which to post my stories, I wasn’t actually a blogger as such. I did the odd bit of writing as the mood and inspiration took me, and that was as far as it went.
My writing did, however, bring me into contact with other writers of erotica, and from there I discovered that there was a rich and vibrant online community of writers and bloggers with whom I identified with and was becoming increasingly a part of. I still wasn’t a blogger though.
Very much still a lurker, I began commenting on the blogs that I…

The Ex Factor

I will freely admit, without any reservation whatsoever that I have, in fact, had sex with every one of my exes.
Now, while this statement is absolutely 100% truthful, it doesn’t actually take into account the fact that, at the time I was having sex with them, I was actually still in a relationship with the woman in question, and so, at that particular point in time, she had yet to actually become an ex. OK, so I accept, that is a huge technicality, but it doesn’t negate the truth of my opening statement.
The fact is, however, that I have never had sex with someone after I have stopped being in a relationship with them so that they have become, in fact, an ex.
Generally, this has been for entirely logical reasons.  In the case of my very first “proper” girlfriend, we moved apart when we left school and went our separate ways to University and, ultimately, met other people.  This was in the late 1980’s so there were no mobile phones, social media, or email to keep in near constant cont…

Intellectual Curiosity

While this week’s prompt seemed to indicate that the topic under the magnifying glass (not literally, before any of us guys get an inferiority complex) was the penis, I’ve decided to go off on a bit of a tangent. I am male and, therefore, it kind of goes without saying that I have a penis. I have, in fact, written a number of posts on the subject of my penis. My penis and I have been life-long partners and have shared many wonderful experiences together.
So, as I said, I thought I’d go somewhere slightly different…
For the record, I have absolutely no desire to be a woman. PMT, periods, pregnancy, childbirth, menopause, having to put up with us guys, inherent sexism in society; no, not for me. My genetic role of the dice came up XY and for that I am eternally grateful.
However, as someone who writes about sex, and writes (hopefully fairly realistic) descriptions of sex, I am curious as to what it would feel like from the female perspective.
Now, even as a man, there is nothing stoppin…

Bottoms up! (Or making an arse of things)

In my experience, the women I have been with have fallen into two camps: those that took it up the arse, and those that didn’t. Those that did enjoyed it and those that didn’t were quite adamant that it wasn’t going to happen. In only one instance has it transpired that I stumbled upon an “uncertain” and that was simply because she had never tried it before. Once she had tried it, she was firmly in the “Yes” camp thereafter; so I can only assume I did something right.
Of the women I have done it with, there has been no general consensus as to how they preferred it done. Some liked it rough and hard, some preferred me to take it slowly and (as much as it can be) gently. All expressed a notion for it being somehow taboo, or illicit in a way that vaginal or oral sex were not. It was somehow darker, dirtier (if you’ll excuse the obvious double meaning) and that made it somehow more exciting.
Personally, when push comes to shove, it’s something I can take or leave. For me it has always been…

Word for Wednesday - Reflection

Reflection /rɪˈflɛkʃən/ noun the act of reflecting or the state of being reflectedcareful or long consideration or thought Reflection is almost inevitable at this time of year. We look back at the things that have happened and how they have affected us. We look forward to the coming year and what might be for both good and bad.
The start of the year, although completely arbitrary, is almost by default, a time of reflection.In this, my first post of 2018, my thoughts turn, as they often do, to the topic of mental health. Like many people, I find the festive period particularly difficult. I won’t bore you with my specific reasons, but suffice to say that by the time the end of the holiday period finally rolls around, I am more than happy to see the back of it. It is the one holiday that simply through the sheer effort of enduring it, leaves me more worn out and exhausted, mentally, physically and spiritually at its end than I was at its beginning.
I mentioned before, that I do not suff…