Kilted Wookie's Naughty Hashtags

Every day,  the #StoryIn12 flash fiction meme on twitter challenges writers to write a “complete” story in exactly 12 words, that includes the prompt word for that day. #StoryIn12 is the creation of Molly (aka @mollysdailykiss ) and  Wriggly Kitty (aka @Wriggly_Kitty ). Here are mine for this month: New  – The new year began like any other; it was just another day. Fire  – Fire coursed through her veins, searing her nerves as her climax approached. Talking  – They let their bodies do the talking; actions expressing more than words. Moon – The full moon shone like a cold sun in the winter sky. Afternoon  – An afternoon spent on the sofa; sadly not in a good way. Black  – Black is not a colour, it is an existential state of being. Vicious  – A new year, but no relief from the vicious circle of moods. Distant  – Depression often makes people appear distant and withdrawn. Appearances can be deceiving. Curve  – He lightly traced her breast’s curve with the tip of his tong

A person’s sex life is very much a journey and not a destination. It is, in a very real sense, a journey of exploration and discovery that can last a lifetime (or as near as makes no difference). For me, as I suspect is the case for many, my first “sexual discovery” was very much a solo mission. I can’t remember my first wank, lost so far back in the murky depths of what was probably the early 1980s, but it was obviously sufficiently enjoyable that I decided I would do it again. It would, ultimately become one of a number of addictions and “bad habits” that I would develop during the course of that particular decade and, all old wives tales to the contrary, it was one of the ones that wasn’t actually detrimental to my health. (I digress…) During that decade, I would discover a lot about myself, about sex, about my sexuality, my sexual personality, my likes and dislikes. I would discover in those geeky, spotty, somewhat greasy haired days that, when it came to girls, I had

Sex and Lovers Who has the tendency to hold a grudge–you or your significant other? I’ve never been one to hold grudges and neither, as far as I can recall, have my “significant others” (when I’ve had one) either. I guess I’ve either been lucky, or I just seem to attract partners who have a similar mindset/outlook on life that I do. The last time you had sex, was it meaningful (making love) or trivial (getting a much needed fuck)? It was, without any question whatsoever, a much needed fuck. There is, however, nothing trivial about sex; even addressing a need is meaningful. It may not mean the same thing to the different people involved, but it always has meaning and there is nothing trivial about fucking out of need.  The fact that it is needed makes it non-trivial. Do you have sex with your eyes open or closed? Generally, I’m an eyes open kind of guy. I love to watch the changes in a partner’s facial expression and see how their body reacts to what I’m doing to it. That said,

There is a proper time and place for sex. The time is now and the place is here with me… Any takers? No? No change there then… It’s probably fair to say that I don’t really have a favourite time of day for having sex. Full disclosure, it happens so rarely that any time it actually does happen is great regardless of where the big and little hands are pointing. Having said that, the various scenarios outlined in this week’s question all have their good points so, on the grounds that beggars can’t really afford to be choosers, I though I’d share my thoughts on each of the options. First Thing There is something particularly enjoyable about wake-up sex. It’s that combination of factors; you’re warm, comfortable, relaxed and (for the purposes of this post anyway) there is someone else there with you who is probably feeling similarly disposed. There’s a languidness about proceedings that doesn’t really have corresponding sensation at any other time of day. You’re awake, bu

So, last night, after a few days of being in a not particularly great place, I had a bit of a “wobble” and contemplated the possibility of just deleting everything and fading into the background. The fact that I am writing this particular post means, obviously, I didn’t (well, not so far, anyway…). Had I done so, however, it wouldn’t have been the first time that I’ve simply decided to pack it all in. Long-term followers will be aware that this blog has been around in a number of previous versions that have, at some point, been unceremoniously deleted. In fact, given that in its current guise, this site has been around since February 2017, this is, in fact, the longest continuous incarnation that it has ever had. Anyway, back to last night, when I posted the following tweet: Having one of my “I should just delete everything and disappear” wobbles. — 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 Kilted Wookie 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 (@Kilted_Wookie) January 8, 2019 As is case when I have one of these “moments”, t

Uninspired /uhn-in-spahyuh rd/ adjective not inspired; not creative or spirited; dull or ordinary; unimaginative. The time of year doesn’t help. I’ve never been particularly good with the holiday/festive period with its enforced joviality; but for me the start of the year is almost worse. For all its many faults, the holiday period is at least a time of light. Yes, it is (for those of us in the northern hemisphere) the time when the days are shortest and the nights are long and dark (and often bloody cold to boot), but our towns and villages, our homes are lit up; there is a brightness and light that banishes some of the worst of the darkness. January, once the lights have been packed away, is just dark. I don’t suffer from Seasonally Affected Disorder. For that I am eternally grateful. I am, however, a miserable git all year round instead. There is, however, something about this time of year that I do find particularly uninspiring. I know that by the time the mon

My last couple of posts looked back on 2018. This week’s Food For Thought Friday prompt focuses on the future. I’ve never really been one for making long term plans as such. My mental health is such that I tend to live very much in the here and now; usually day-to-day, but sometimes it can be hour-to-hour or even, it seems, moment-to-moment. I try not to dwell on the past because there is some fairly major-league shit in there which, having survived, I’d rather not disturb again if I can avoid. Another side-effect is that I don’t tend to think too far into the future. That isn’t meant to sound melodramatic; I’m not for one moment suggesting that I might do something that would result in my no longer being here, but more that I simply don’t know how my mood is going to be at any given point. It is very difficult to plan for a future event knowing that, by the time the day in question rolls around, you may well be incapable of even leaving the house (or possibly even getting out o

Watching As Punishment by Kilted Wookie “Can you come over?” Rob’s voice at the end of the line sounded more like a command than a request. “I need to teach Hannah a lesson.” When Clara arrived at their house, Rob was smartly dressed. Hannah, however, was naked, gagged, and tied very firmly to an uncomfortable looking wooden chair in the living room. Her ankles were bound to the legs of the chair, and her wrists were tied behind her back. “She has been getting above herself recently,” Rob explained. “She needs to be taught how a proper slut behaves towards her Master.” Rob sat down, a glass of whisky in hand as he he made a show of eyeing Clara suggestively up and down. Hannah watched, eyes downcast. “Strip!” he commanded. Clara did as she was told and stood before him. “Get yourself a cushion,” Rob said pleasantly, “a good, obedient slut doesn’t deserve to get sore knees,” he explained. His words were as much for Hannah as they were for Clara. She knelt before h