Category Archives: Erotica

sleepless thoughts

insomnia… when you’re alone, you feel more alone. when you’re not, embracing a little mischief goes a long way. some thoughts of mine just now:

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3:59am. insomnia. and i’m thinking of you.

a distraction. that’s what you’d be. plain and simple. a way for me to take my mind of what i’m really wanting, sleep.

if i can’t have that, maybe i could have you. you’d do. but you’re sleeping.

still. you could just lie there. i entertain myself well, a body at my disposal.

where to start? i have notions, but i’m open to suggestion.

Confessions of a Serial Kisser

Nice, full lips: I can’t get enough of them. I bite, nibble, and suck them with little regard for consequences. I acquiesce to an invading tongue like a defenseless village against raiders. Enter at will, I silently command, unwilling to put up a fight, but ready to engage regardless.

I nibble, bite, lick, and suck my way down his torso, enjoying it as much or more than he does. It’s my land, my territory, and intimate knowledge is my only goal. There’s no part of the body safe from my probing, and I’m an explorer with abandon, navigating first with my hands, then staking my claim with my lips. A nibble, a bite, a suck… all aphrodisiacs for yet another.

Like an addict, one is never, ever enough.

A Game For New (And Old) Lovers

Part of the fun of a new relationship is that of getting to know each other. We get to make a mental checklist. You learn their mannerisms, routine comments, favourite phrases, what their contemplative expressions are, how they look in that moment where they’re truly relaxed, and so forth. In the bedroom, it’s no different.

(But let’s be honest. The beauty of a great relationship is that you continue learning about your lover over the long term. Hell, we never stop learning about ourselves, so how could we ever stop learning about them?)

We forget, sometimes, how truly expansive the land of lovemaking is. It covers vast territory, and the amount of activities at our disposal is legion. Sometimes, it might be nice to have a map at our disposal.

Enter this little game I’ve thought of. Let’s call it “School Me, Baby.” It’s a lusty little literary exercise, the kinda thing that turns a geek like me on.

You and your lover go to the bookstore and you each pick out a book on sexuality that best appeals to you. Now, it’s not rocket science, this book-selecting thing. Most of them will cover all the basics, but the question is whether or not it covers the best for you. I mean, self-help books are like underwear; almost any will technically do the job, but which best fits you is a highly subjective matter. In this matter, you want to ensure that the book covers everything from foreplay to positioning. If you’ve got kinks, you may have to buy a second book to reflect that, too, so go right ahead.* Take the time to scan through books. If you’re not really pro at deciding what books work for you, simply pick one subject to look up in each; say, oral. Read. Whichever passage evokes the experience best for you, that’s the book that best fits you.

So, you pick a lazy Sunday morning, head into the bookstore together, and spend an hour or two just browsing through sex books in the corner together. Decide which one each of you wants to take home, buy them, and head back to the pad.

Now you get to either head home to read in different parts of the house, or you can separate for the day and read in different areas. The only thing is, you’re going to decide how much you’ll be reading, and if you want to, what sections you’ll be covering. (Foreplay? Oral? Anal? Kinky? Old-fashioned lovemaking? Something rougher? Waterplay?)

You’ll make arrangements to meet again soon – that night, the next – for dinner.

Between now and then, your assignment, should you choose to accept it, is to read the required readings with a highlighter in hand. Anything that turns you on, gets you revving, or has you touching yourself, you highlight.

You can make an evening of reading the passages together, if you like, or you can trade books and get together again the next night, after you’ve done your homework. I think it’d be kind of sexy and hot to get a bunch of candles going, toss a blanket on the floor, scatter pillows about, and open up to, say, the highlighted section on oral. Naked, sprawled on the floor, the receiver reads the passage out to the soon-to-be-giver, and when the giver’s suitably inspired, they get down to work – possibly even while still being read to.

I have this image of the guy going down, hearing about, oh, say clitoral sucking techniques, and after he gives it a valiant try, looking up, and saying “Like that?” This is one of those times you can have a dialogue while you’re doing it. Have fun, exchange feedback, make it a game where you try slight variations of each technique, and see what one provokes the best reaction. Call it the “compare and contrast” segment of the evening.

Any which way, the point is that you learn from your lover’s perspective, in clear and certain terms, what it is that they find works for them, or what it is they’d like to experience.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, no two bodies are the same. There is no one surefire just-add-water instant-orgasm trick. Everyone has different needs, and for many people, it’s really hard to express exactly what it is we’re desiring. This is one of those little tricks designed to take care of those differences between us all.

VARIATIONS:
Not only can you highlight what turns you on as far as having done to you, but you can also highlight, in another colour, the things you’d love to do to your partner.

You can buy the book for your lover, highlight all the things you’d like to have done to you, and put Post-It notes opposite those sections with little suggestive notes, such as, “And in return, I would pin you down, and then perform – turn to page 94.” On page 94, you’d highlight raunchier parts the passage of what it is you’d do. Use page tabs to mark sections.

When reading your lovers’ book’s highlighted passage, if anything smacks of something you’d like to experience that wasn’t covered in your own book, underline it and mark the page for your lover.

As mentioned above, there are kinks in the world. Kinks are made, not born, and if you’re entering a new phase with your lover where kinks are something you’re wanting to explore together, starting that phase with an exercise like this, except using books focusing on BDSM and other alternative lifestyles, might ensure you’re both on the same page when you’re starting out, or give you an overview of the possibilities the new lifestyle you’re considering might offer to you as a couple.

Guest Posting: EA’s Account of His First Self-Gratification

One of my favourite male erotic bloggers is Easily Aroused. I like him for his lyrical prose that often, for me, evokes the intimacy of the encounter. The reason why you go over for one blogger, one author, over another is pretty simple, really. It comes down to style. Some have it, and some wish they did. He does, and I’m feeling quite privileged to have him along for the self-love ride.

With his ode to discovering how good he could make himself feel through exploring his body as a teen, here’s Easily Aroused. (Thanks, EA.) For obvious reasons, the photo is clearly not of a teen.

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My love affair with my cock started in earnest after my twelfth birthday. However, my desire for women (a desire that I anticipate prevailing until my final breath slips from between my lips) began to crystallise a little earlier than that.

It’s quite possible that its origins lie in the moment that I saw Sean Connery using a dermatome to cut the straps on Anna Dor’s evening dress in ‘You Only Live Twice’. As I watched him ease her zip down the line of her spine, the camera teasingly fading out just before her waiting buttocks were exposed, I was captivated.

I’ve been bewitched ever since.

It was at middle school that I first sought to emulate the brawny Scots spy. From somewhere deep in my genetic makeup came the nascent desire to explore and enjoy women with the same philandering style that Bond did. The problem was: how to do justice to such grandiose designs when you’re only ten years old? Beyond kissing – and by ‘kissing’, I don’t mean something Valentino would have nodded approvingly at – I had little idea what I was meant to be doing with the girls I dallied with; no concept of the true effect they were meant to elicit in me.

In senior school, the real differences between men and women started to become apparent to me. For one thing, girls matured faster when it came to sex. Much faster. It wasn’t long before the fairer sex was turning its collective attention towards older boys. By the time I’d reached my teens, the more sexually assertive girls in my class were dating school leavers, surly youths who sported Don Johnson stubble and driving licences. How the hell could my peers and I possibly compete?

And that was a problem. The girls I stood the best chance with were shy, demure creatures. They didn’t share the adventurous appetites of their more desirous sisters. They wanted to hold hands and giggle, to kiss with tightly pursed lips and their tongues safely out of reach. They swiftly moved your hand away if it got within a foot of their bosoms, slapped it sharply away if it dared stray towards their thighs. The sad truth was that they couldn’t hold a candle to the bad girls. Not at that point. So the mere fact that the bad girls had less than zero interest in me didn’t deter me from being drawn to them like a moth to the scorching dangers of a naked flame.

I don’t recall how it started, but I began writing fantasies about the girls who piqued my interest the most. My scribblings were confined to a hard-bound book which I secreted at the back of my wardrobe. There were no real favourites as such: my lustful attentions tended to flit between the most pronounced objects of my adolescent desire. I don’t remember the scenarios as being especially explicit, either; they were mostly concerned with undressing the girls to their underwear (and beyond) and indulging in some foreplay. Either I lacked the knowledge – or the confidence – to take things further, even when my desires were confined to the literary world.

Yet despite the naivety of my written fumblings (who knew what was to come, eh?), I found myself aroused by the words dancing across the pages, by the images that accompanied them in my mind. They provided my first self-delivered, earnest erections. I’d be lying on my bed, or sometimes the floor, my ears ever alert for sound of feet ascending the staircase, writing feverishly away. Without realising it, I’d be pressing my pelvis into the mattress or the carpet, my cock hard against my belly, trapped, squirming and thrusting as my excitement built.

Inevitably, on a warm summer’s evening, my excitement reached an entirely new stratum. The sensations emanating from my loins went from being ‘good’ to being unbelievably good, utterly consuming in their deliciousness. I began to thrust harder and faster as I wrote, until I reached for the first time what is now an unmistakeable peak. I didn’t realise what had happened right away. I saw the semen squirting from my cockhead and wondered, “Have I broken something?” But how could something that had damaged feel *so* good? And finally, the light bulb flickered on. I’d done it, achieved that mythical goal I’d heard about in the locker room. I’d ejaculated. I’d *come*.

Of course, in doing so, I’d circumvented the more traditional route to masturbatory success. The next step in my private education was to learn how to produce the same effect by using my hand.

And that is a whole other story…

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BACK TO ME: I must say, EA, I’m always quite the fan of a good tease. Nicely done.

Lights, Camera, and… Action?

I don’t know about you, but January’s traditionally a month I stay home a lot in an effort to get my bankbook back in black after the excesses of the festive season. So, I was thinking, hmm, what little project can I propose for my readers?

In the last posting, I suggested doing performance report cards with each other, checking in with your partner to see how well each of you are doing in the pleasing department. This time, I want to suggest getting into visuals — taping your lovemaking — but with a twist.

We’ve all seen sex videos gone awry, whether it’s Paris Hilton’s tapes getting released to the world at large, or some couple down the street who accidentally turned their video into the rental store instead of the copy of Forrest Gump the family had been renting. Yes, these things can happen, and that’s why you need to be careful.

But you can get hit by a vehicle crossing a street, yet you do that daily. Take the chance, explore it. Be a star, in your own way.

Naturally, a lot of us don’t like seeing ourselves on tape, but it’s an important thing to get over. A sex video isn’t jalways smut, it can be an erotic record of how you feel about your lover, and evidence of how you display it. When incorporated back into the relationship as visual foreplay or a romantic night in, it can help spice your sex life like nothing else, provided you’re willing to embrace it.

Imagine you’re a woman with insecurities, and you’re sitting there, watching a DVD of some sexcapades with your lover, and he starts getting aroused just watching you. This time, it’s not some blonde bimbette with triple-D boobs getting him rigid, it’s you, in all your simple, real, attainable beauty. For once, you’ll feel like the bombshell you deserve to be. Take the chance.

If you have insecurities, then there are some approaches to lessen ‘em. Spend a quiet night planning the activities with your partner. Script it, as it were. Decide some of the things you’d like to do to each other, but don’t worry about order, just go with the flow. If planning it to the T will help you lessen even more of your inhibitions, then go for it, but don’t feel restrained by it.

When you’re getting down to the nitty-gritty, you need to keep a couple things in mind. Technology’s important. What is your camera capable of doing? What kind of lighting will it need? You want to ensure you’ve got a camera that can perform in low-light situations, especially if insecurities are present. The control of the lighting is what differentiates the romantic from the pornographic. Camera angles are important. If it gets you hot, explore your lover’s body with a handicam. If your lover’s going down on you, you can hold the camera and capture it from your perspective. If you like, get your lover masturbating on film. Whatever occurs to you, you can do.

Nowadays, the home sex video can be done better than ever. Home editing technology is more sophisticated, yet more user-friendly than it has ever been. My Mac, for instance, comes with iMovie and iDVD. The first allows you to take different tracks from different digital videos and edit them together for a digital film. Then, you can mosey over to iDVD and lay in an audio track. You can speed things up, slow them down, stretch ‘em, lay in colour filters, whatever turns you on, whatever makes the mood better. I don’t know what Windows programs exist, but I’m sure they’re every bit as simple.

So, here’s the twist, which comes after you’ve done the playing around on camera.

You get together with your lover, put all your different sexy video tracks on your computer, crack a bottle of wine, and as a couple, watch the clips and make decisions about what segments are the hottest, and then you create your own DVD with montages of your lovemaking sessions. Find music that sets the pace for your visuals — if it’s down’n’dirty, something like INXS or Nine Inch Nails might hit the spot. For something romantic, pick any cheesy diva you like. It really doesn’t matter. (Personally, I’d be wanting to find a little classic bassy porn soundtracks from the ‘70s, just for the fun/humour factor.) You can even intellectually elevate the moment by recording poetry or erotic writing and dub that over the tracks, too.

The great thing about doing something like this together is that the creation of it (via the editing) becomes as much a part of the experience as the action performance is. And if you’ve taken the time to talk and “script” what sort of activities you’d like done, then the entire thing, from start to finish, becomes an experience that you’ll always be able to enjoy.

There’s another bonus, too. Like I suggested last time, the performance reviews, they become so much more tangible if you’re sitting there and analyzing your clips and cutting/pasting them together. You can talk about why that move got you so hot, what you’re feeling when your face is screwed up in agonizing pleasure, and how it could have felt just a little better if done slightly different.

As a society, we’ve so many hang-ups about seeing ourselves on video, sexually, as if it’s pornographic and crass. It’s not. It’s a record of how two people express their love for each other. And while it’s easier for something like that to escape out into the world than ever before, it’s also easier to turn it into a beautiful work of art that you can enjoy time and time again as the years pass — just be careful with it, that’s all, and make sure you trust your lover on every level.

Speaking of years passing, every relationship has its phases where the sex might dwindle. If that’s the case, something like this can serve as a tangible reminder for just how good it was, and provide inspiration for getting back to that kind of feeling once again.

wishing otherwise

wistful jazz wails in the background. the drive bustles with beatniks and bohemians, baddies and babes. stale cigarette smoke wafts towards me. i see the source. you.

i only glance at you for the briefest second, but you catch my eye. that smoldering look you got’s really something else, i think, returning to my book. while i reread the same passage, i sense you watching me. this time, looking up, i slowly take you in.

you’ve got crumpled olive green cargo pants on, but they’re just tight enough around your round bubble ass. you’re wearing two tanktops, layered, one white and one black, and a leather jacket’s slung over your forearm, obscuring some of your tattoos. surprised at myself, i openly admire your breasts as i continue up you and meet your glance.

“glance” is too light a word for that look of yours. your eyes are locked on me like a fighter plane acquiring a target. so brazen, so bold. so intimidating.

i find myself wishing i had that in me, but today i don’t. i smile weakly, then break the gaze, dropping down to my book, back to my safety zone.

out of the corner of my eye, i see you shoot me a final glance as you join up with your approaching friend. sad to see you leave, i at least watch you go.

now, days later, i revel in my regret for the courage that came too late, and for the chance squandered so quickly.