Word for Wednesday – Hedonism

Hedonism

/ˈhiːdəˌnɪzəm; ˈhɛd-/
noun
  1. Ethics
    (a) the doctrine that moral value can be defined in terms of pleasure
    (b) the doctrine that the pursuit of pleasure is the highest good
  2. the pursuit of pleasure as a matter of principle
  3. indulgence in sensual pleasures

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.

Wicked WednesdaySound
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 beneath us, the sounds of two bodies moving together in a sexual collision. Then there’s the sounds of orgasm itself; mine and, more importantly, hers. It is the confirmation that I have taken her to that highest plane of pleasure.

Scent
I am anosmic. Not fully so, but my sense of smell is very weak. It is still an important sense. When I’m going down on a woman, her scent combines with her taste, making my enjoyment of this particular activity even stronger.

Touch
I am extremely tactile. I love touching and being touched. I love the feel of my partner’s skin against mine. But it’s also about how my partner responds to my touch. How she reacts as I touch her nipples, how wet she gets as I slide my fingers into her, the sensations as her lips slide along my cock. Then there is that wonderful feeling as her wet warmth surrounds my hardness; the insides of her thighs rubbing against the oustides of mine as our bodies move together.

Taste
From the taste of her perspiration on her skin, to the sweet richness of her juices as I lick her, taste is a deep sensual experience. When I’m face down between her thighs, I can gauge her arousal from her flavour.

Each sense provides its own sensations, it’s own element of the overall experience. For a sensualist like me, the more the senses are engaged, the higher the arousal, the deeper the pleasure and the fuller the enjoyment.

ZeN

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TMI Tuesday – Tell the Truth

TMI TuesdayTell the Truth

  1. A 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.
  2. 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 in Edinburgh, so I suspect that would be my first point of call.If this question really did apply to me, I would admit that it wasn’t my thing. I wouldn’t, however, forbid them from exploring it.
  3. Have you texted nude photos to someone and had it come back to bite you in the ass – as in someone taking revenge for your misjudgement?
    Fortunately no, but then I am very careful about who I send photos to, and the ones I post online are fairly anonymous.
  4. Have you or would you ever stop having a relationship with someone who had a weight problem, and their physique drastically changed?
    Seriously? What kind of shallow bastard would do this.  I think if I were actually that kind of person, ironically, the other person could do far better than me anyway, so I’d be doing them a favour.
  5. Would you rather find true love or win the lottery with winnings of £10,000?
    I suspect possibly true love (if it exists). I’m not especially material, and while I can’t deny £10k would be a nice windfall, it wouldn’t ultimately make me a happier person.

Bonus: Which topic of conversation do you avoid at all costs – politics or religion?
I think the current state of the world is such that they are both so tightly intertwined, you almost cannot discuss one without the other being part of it; so in that respect, I try equally hard to avoid both.

ZeN

It Started With A Dick Pic

Share Our ShitBefore 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 was reading. Those comments meant that other visitors to those blogs “discovered” my site and started visiting and commenting on my work. A certain momentum was inexorably building.

Enter (not in the biblical sense) two very, persuasive women, Cheryl Kaye and Charlie Powell (or @HornyGeekGirl or @sexblogofsorts to use their twitter names) and we get, eventually, to the point of this post.

Between them they waxed lyrical about the dearth of male sex bloggers and how much they wished for “more cock on #SinfulSunday“. Eventually I took the bait and, three years ago this weekend, I posted my very first #SinfulSunday submission.

I had actually guest posted on Cheryl’s blog a few weeks earlier and, thanks to the favourable reaction my photos were receiving, I would later re-post that article on my own blog as another of my #SinfulSunday entries.

So there you have it, the story of how this introverted occasional peddler of filth was unleashed on an unexpecting internet.

Cheryl/Charlie, if you are reading this, the credit/blame is all yours…

ZeN

The Ex Factor

Wicked WednesdayI 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 contact with. If anyone thinks long-distance is hard nowadays, imagine it in the pre-internet dark ages.

Another couple of relationships at university were short term and simply fizzled out after the initial novelty wore off.

And then, of course, there is “THE EX“, i.e. my ex-wife.

In total, we were together for 16 years and married for 12 of those. I was her “first” although, she had done pretty much everything else apart from intercourse with her previous boyfriend. I was slightly more experienced than she was by virtue of the partners mentioned above, but not by very much and the overwhelming majority of what I know about my sexual tastes, desires, preferences, attitudes and appetites were learned during those 16 years that I spent with her.

Our split, when it happened, was particularly hard. I still carry the scars of it some 12 years later. Oddly, however, even as the relationship itself fell apart, the one thing that remained absolutely great right up until almost the very end was, surprise surprise, the sex. We had drifted apart as people, to the point where we were two separate individuals living under the same roof as opposed to the unit we had been as a couple. We were, in fact, by this stage, also both having sex outside what remained of our relationship. All in all it was pretty toxic and was damaging my health, but when we fucked, for that brief interlude, everything clicked back into place.

I suspect it was the long and easy familiarity we had for each other’s bodies and the things that turned us on. There was also a very definite element of anger and resentment towards each other in the way we fucked that, perversely, just made the fucking even better while, at the same time, hastened the relationship’s final ending.

I’ve had a couple of relationships since we split, and she married the guy she was fucking behind my back.  All things considered, we are on reasonably good terms, although we only actually speak to each other when we absolutely have to.

Knowing how good the sex between us was, could I ever go back?

Simple answer, no. In the infinitesimally unlikely event that the possibility ever arose, I really don’t think that would be a good idea for either of us.

ZeN

Intellectual Curiosity

#MasturbationMondayWhile 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 stopping me from, if I were so inclined, sucking another guy’s cock, or taking a cock in my arse but (and it’s a big but), I am not so inclined. There are some sacrifices I will not make for my art.

So, when trying to write about sex from a female perspective, I have attempted to glean what it feels like from my various partners over the years.

I know what it feels like to be inside a woman and, conversely, I can sort of imagine how it must feel in reverse, but I will never know.

So, if I could spend a day a woman, how would I spend that day?

Well, it stands to reason that I would spend a fair bit of time exploring and getting to know my new bits, for the purposes of research, obviously, you understand. Experiencing both orgasm, and the frustration of its denial as a woman would give me a fantastic insight for some of my D/s stories.

And then there’s sex…

Now, this is where it gets interesting. As I’ve already pointed out, as a straight male, I have absolutely no interest, sexually, in my own gender. This poses a bit of a problem. Were my personality to be transplanted, as is, into the body of a woman, with no other changes, then presumably my sexual preferences would remain as they are; i.e. attracted to women, no interest in men.  Surely then, this would make me a lesbian?

I don’t have a real problem with this. Given my passion for cunnilingus, I guess that would still be an option, and I would get to experience it from the woman’s perspective, so it’s all good.

However, given that I’ve already said, any such switch would be for the purposes of research, and so to fully achieve this, being a woman would also mean sex with a guy, otherwise what is the point of the experiment? Could I do it? Would I be able to enjoy it is I did? How would the experience affect me when I reverted back to my own body?

Of course,  another way of looking at it would be that since I am heterosexual, the female “me” would be as well, and I would be able to fully experience and (hopefully) enjoy the feelings and sensations of what it is to be a woman being taken by a man; to experience as a “receiver” all the things I do with my partner in my natural state as the “giver”

In an ideal world, the female “me would like both men and women, but I suspect I’m possibly being greedy.

Now, if you have read any of my stories, it may be that you think that my descriptions of sex and the feelings experienced by both partners are fairly accurate, albeit that everyone’s senses and sensations are unique to them. That being the case, the exercise become somewhat academic because, ultimately, the only person whose experiences and feelings I can truly accurately describe are my own.

On the whole, I think I’ll just stick to using my imagination. It seems to work well enough. I can’t deny, however, that I do have a certain intellectual curiosity. As I mentioned at the start however, I am very happy being a man and, in particular, this man.

ZeN

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 anal 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 a case of “lady’s choice”. When the woman I’ve been with has wanted it, I’ve done it and enjoyed it. Similarly, when the woman hasn’t wanted it, I haven’t missed it. Also, in terms of what I do, I have only ever been a “giver”, “receiving” isn’t my thing.

What it comes down to, for me, is that it is simply one more weapon in my arsenal, one more string in my bow.  There are plenty of other activities that couples can enjoy that the presence or absence of this particular one makes little difference.  I don’t enjoy sex more when I get to fuck her arse, I don’t enjoy it less when I don’t.

Wicked WednesdayAs with everything, communication and respect is key. If the woman says its a “no”, then it’s a “no”; stop there, don’t try to coerce her into something she doesn’t want to do. In the case of my “uncertain”, it was something she was curious about but it was something where, ultimately, I let her set the pace; I didn’t force it, but from expressing an interest, we experimented and built up from fingering until she was ready for me to fuck her.  All the time the understanding was that if she didn’t like it or wanted me to stop at any point, I would.

As it happened, I stopped quite a few times. She wanted to persevere and after a few false starts along the way, we finally got there.  As I mentioned above, it turned out it was something she enjoyed and it is something we did fairly regularly after that.  Had I tried to force my way in on that first attempt, there is every chance I might have put her off it and, more importantly from my fragile male ego’s perspective, me.

All this is, I guess, is a rather rambling and long-winded way of saying that for me, its presence or absence is not a deal-breaker. I’ve always believed and strongly maintain that, first and foremost, sex should be enjoyable for the participants. If something you do enhances that, great; if it doesn’t, then concentrate on the things that do.

Ultimately though, if someone offers you their arse, don’t be one.

ZeN

Word for Wednesday – Reflection

Reflection

/rɪˈflɛkʃən/
noun
  1. the act of reflecting or the state of being reflected
  2. careful 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 my last post of 2017, I looked back at the highs I had in terms of my return to blogging. In this, my first post of 2018, my thoughts turn, as they often do, to the topic of mental health.

Helpful Numbers #MentalHealthLike 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 suffer from Seasonally Affected Disorder, but perhaps it would be more accurate to say that there is a very specific “season” that I find particularly hard to bear.

Every year, somewhere between Christmas Day and New Year’s Day, I make a conscious decision whether or not I carry on. In doing so, I make a positive affirmation that, having made it through the year just gone by, I will give it my best endeavours to make it to the end of the year that is to come. It isn’t a promise; it is simply a statement of what I intend to achieve. If I manage to achieve anything else between now and the end of 2018 then that is a bonus. The only resolution I ever set myself is that I try not to spend every day of the forthcoming year regretting the decision I have made.

This has not been a very positive post; mainly because I am not in a very positive place. For me it is the time of my darkest reflections.

ZeN

Winter

I must admit, I hadn’t actually thought about the kinky connections of winter. Having said that, as we hurtle towards one of my least favourite times of the year, I’m not really thinking about the kinky connections of anything.

First off, I am fortunate that I don’t suffer from Seasonally Affected Disorder (SAD). On account of my depression, I’m a miserable fucker all year round, the only difference between winter and summer being that it’s colder, so I generally wear more clothes.

There is something nice about snuggling up with someone in the comfortable warmth of indoors when the weather outside is cold and bleak and daylight is an increasingly rare commodity.

Whether its under a blanket on the sofa, in bed and a heavy tog duvet, or lying together in front of a log fire, there is very little that beats the intimacy and closeness of a good, long lazy snuggle (except, perhaps, when the “snuggle” is somewhat less lazy).

And that, possibly, is one advantage of this time of year; when it’s cold outside, we turn the heating up inside. There’s something about being warm and cozy that lends itself to activities of an amorous nature.  As the temperature rises, the layers of clothing can fall away. What started with a cuddle, can progress to sharing body heat in an altogether more vigorous fashion.

It’s kind of the ultimate “Netflix & Chill” where the “chilling” most certainly involves keeping warm. And as we approach the Winter Solstice and almost 16 hours of darkness, there is only so much Netflix you can watch, and there are much nicer things two people can be doing to while away the longest winter nights.

ZeN

TMI Tuesday – Roll With It!

TMI TuesdayRoll With It!

  1. With whom would you like to take a bath?
  2. You are driving motorcycle hard down a country road, wind in your hair. Who is the hottie on the bike with you that you will be riding later?
  3. Baking naked–who is kneading your dough? 😉
  4. Come sail away, come sail away, come and sail away with me! Who is joining you for a sexy sea adventure?
  5. “I got your back.” Hands down who do you fully support, stick by no matter what, Who are you willing to help at all costs?
     
    I am kind of cheating this week but only for the simple reason that the answer to all five of the above questions is the same person. Yes, I know, it’s all a bit boring, but when you have that one special friend that you share many a wonderful sexual adventure with, they have to be first choice.

Bonus: Belly button– “inny” or “outty”? Are you going to show us? 😀
It is an “inny” and you can see plenty of evidence here.

ZeN

Schrödinger’s Wanker

#MasturbationMondaySome of you will, no doubt, be at least passingly familiar with the concept of Schrödinger’s cat; the idea postulated to explain the strange nature of quantum superpositions, in which a quantum system such as an atom or photon can exist as a combination of multiple states corresponding to different possible outcomes. The prevailing theory at the time said that a quantum system remained in this superposition until it interacted with, or was observed by, the external world, at which time the superposition collapses into one or another of the possible definite states.

Still with me?

To illustrate this. Schrödinger  proposed a scenario with a cat in a locked steel chamber, wherein the cat’s life or death depended on the state of a radioactive atom, whether it had decayed and emitted radiation or not.

One of the obvious problems with this, aside from its inherent cruelty to the cat is that, depending on how long the radioactive material actually took to decay, the cat could die for a number of totally unrelated reasons, i.e. starvation or, more likely due to need for the steel box in question to be sealed to prevent stray radiation entering from outside, asphyxiation. Another possibility is that the cat could die out of sheer boredom. All of these deaths could occur without radioactive decay and would, therefore, render the experiment invalid (and pointless).

This did get me thinking, in an oddly roundabout way, about the internet and the way we interact with each other over it.

In this scenario, the “internet” is the closed box and I am the cat/wanker in question. Now, at the time of writing this particular piece of nonsense, I am most definitely not having a wank. For one thing, I’m male and multi-tasking is not my thing, and for another, my general lack of typing ability means that I primarily use my dominant hand for both activities; so if I’m doing one, I cannot be doing the other. QED.

But what about from the readers’ frame of reference?

Assuming anyone reads this, they will be reading it at a different point of time from when I wrote it. I am, therefore, unobservable because I am inside that box that is the internet. I could therefore, be wanking and or not-wanking when you read these words. As such, I would simultaneously be performing an act of masturbation, while also not masturbating at the same time. You, my dear reader, would never know unless you were able to somehow peek inside “the box” (presumably using a web cam or similar) while reading these words.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the audience; I present to you…

Schrödinger’s Wanker…

ZeN