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He said Kilt …and I went unf!

What is it about a man in a kilt? I mean honestly? I was reading this blog I follow this morning (I shan’t tag it unless he tells me it’s okay) the author was travelling down to a wedding and he happened to mention he was going to be wearing a kilt and my mind, which is uncontrollable at best went into spirals of hot desire and that word escaped my lips followed by a rather hard lip bite – “unf” lip bite – double whammy *melts*. Once I pulled myself together enough to focus my errant brain I sniggered rather a lot because firstly, I have no idea what this guy looks like so it is just the kilt that causes the reaction and secondly this always happens!  Which is fine if I’m sitting at home with the laptop but not so good when I’m out somewhere and some poor innocent chap is in his smart kilt and I start drooling.

I have to ask myself why? What is it about the kilt?


It’s the promise isn’t it…

The promise of a pair of muscular meaty thighs. I’m so true to type with my attraction to men, I like them tall with long strong legs and a good arse to hang onto. The current Mr. EM is 6ft 4″ with thighs to die for. I must admit I’m not so keen on the fancy dress-shoes that go with a formal kilt preferring the infinitely more masculine working boots but that’s just me…

The promise of an accent. I bloody love a man with an accent, not any old tosh though, amongst my favourites are Scottish and Southern Irish, if a chaps wearing a kilt and doesn’t sound right I’m always really put out!

The promise of a strong personality. I’m English, I live in England and although I have spent a fair amount of time in Scotland in the past it’s been a while. So seeing a man in a kilt down here (I’m fairly far south) is rare, usually it’s at a function.  How easy would it be to wear trousers just to fit in? Any man who is patriotic enough to stand up for his country and his national dress in that situation already has my attention before I even get a glimpse of what he might have underneath…

…because, lets face it the biggest promise is that chances are he’s not wearing anything under that kilt. *swoon*

 

 

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A new thing…

I’ve found a new thing and I’m sharing in the interest of “because I can” rather than “because you will be interested” so ner.

Childish delight over 😉 I’m amazed how much such a simple thing can bring me so much pleasure! I guess I should just get on and tell you about it eh?

I’m a curvy woman, I have been curvier but at the moment I’m finding a middle ground on the curves that I’m happy with, there are one or two that need a little action (but I really hate sit ups!) and a couple of areas I’d prefer to be ‘what they once were’ but gravity is a right bitch 😦 In general, it’s taken me a while but I have come around to the idea that this body of mine is pretty alright actually.

So the new thing? It’s daft, standing up I put my hand on my back as high up as I can palm down and sweep it down the curve of my back and over the rise of my buttock until my fingertips part company just before my thigh, like a swish…. The pleasure derives from the feeling of the continuous curve, my hand encounters no bumps or love handles, my skin is as it always had been very soft and my bottom is not big! I like that part best, I think I have a nice arse, although I have been know to utter the phrase “does my bum look big in this?”

I’m finding I’m doing this swish at all sorts of moments, it makes me go ‘ahhhh’ inside and melt a little so doing it in public isn’t the best idea but it’s happening. In the supermarket yesterday when I was pondering the merits of added Omega 3 in fish fingers – swish – mmmmm… Realising what I had done I looked around carefully to check no one was watching, phew… safe.  Of course I wasn’t naked in Iceland it feels much better when I’m naked…

Good job I love being naked.

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To start at the beginning of my journey on this blog, click here then follow the arrows to the next post