Kinky?

I don't care what you do in the bedroom. I really don't. Just so long as it's consensual and doesn't involve animals, children, or dead people.
The still leaves plenty of scope doesn't it? Far as I can tell the only limits are those you impose on each other, or yourself if you're going solo. I think we're in a society now that's covertly relaxing into a more realistic view of human sexual choices, which kind of flies in the face of how the tabloids report sexual scandal or indiscretion. There's a kind of double standard at play, I think? You can be sure that when the paparazzi get home they're as partial to a bit of bondage or a spot of dressing up as the average Tory MP. And why shouldn't they? What's not to like about spending a couple of hours tied to a bed? Or a a bit of role play? Or whatever it is that hits the sweet spot. 
Should I have said G spot, or would that be too obvious? Frankly, I'm beyond caring what you think of me or my sexuality, or any of my views for that matter. To be comfortable in your own skin is the most important destination that you're ever going to reach, and for some people it takes longer to arrive than others. I managed it about four years ago, and all I had to do was stop living my life as an apology or allow myself to be dominated by the expectations of others. Not that I ever say no to a bit of domination, but I digress. OK, so I'm not exactly taking this post very seriously am I? Point is, I wonder how many hours we waste worrying about how we're perceived? Why do we do that to ourselves? We'd all do well to let ourselves off the hook. So you crack on, you bunch of lovely deviants. Set about the challenge of being inappropriate and outlandish, kinky and creative. Above all, just have a bit of a giggle. Goodness knows there's no shortage of pain and suffering in the world; don't hesitate to have fun when you can. 
Be safe. Be sordid. Be real.