Erotic songs

The list of songs that i have fantasies of playing in the background whilst whetting my arousal into a frenzy is long…. most have a slow, sensual undertone to them and an almost hynotising rythym.   Think of some of the hottest cinematic moments and the soundtrack is given a lot of thought to enhance the lovers, as much as the lighting, mood and setting.

One of my favourite 80’s erotica has to be the use of this song in 9 and a half weeks – ironically, i chose this clip because it has both Annie Lennox and a montage of a freaking hot scene of Tom Cruise and Rebecca DeMornay fondling and fucking on a train….rrrrowwwr.  Ms Lennox has always intrigued me, as a child i thought she was a hermaphrodite and beautiful all at once!  And the plethora of sexy songs is enticing, from the classic electro Sweet Dreams, to the very dark but beautiful soundtrack of 1984 and this gem ‘This City never sleeps’.  Not that the lyrics pertain to sex as much as lonliness pervading our sense of self but damn the slow crescendo always there teasing.

Share your thoughts, or other songs you love for their erotic value, maybe you can unearth some new gems for me.

Intimacy – what defines it to you?

You would think this is easy to define especially in the sexual arena, it’s connecting with someone – fucking them, being fucked – having another person inside you, sheathed – mouths meeting in passion overwrought and overcome.  Yet, it’s not about the enmeshment of body parts per se but the mentality behind it, how you feel whilst conducting a private battle zone.

I’ve often been accused of being an intense lover, indeed i’ve had dates that were so put off by what they divulged to me, those secret yearnings and longings that they couldn’t handle the thought of me invading their head.  Never mind they didn’t get to bed me, just the fact that some intrinsic layer was pulled away for my scrutiny became too hard to continue whatever liaison may have ensued.   Is it because i’m a reincarnation of Kinsey or Jung, hardly.  I think it’s because there are the people that don’t look beneath particularly within erotic moments and then there are those that want to get you naked emotionally.  Let me tell you, emotionally is a far more vulnerable place to be.

Think about bdsm, blindfolds and being tied up, it’s the trust and intimacy there between the (hopefully) willing subject and the person doing the tying that makes it hot.  You can hand over every longing to another person and be completely bare boned in your desire.  There is so much at play behind the scenes, the knowledge that you allow another person to touch you, to release inhibition and to be this close that your mercy is at the core. 

It’s also as much about eye contact, one of the sexiest and in some ways intimate things you can do is to meet someone’s gaze or to sit on your lover’s lap and look into them, not in the polite way the ‘i wanna see who you really are’ kind way.  Don’t get me started on how good it is to have a man inside of you, with his mouth inches from yours and his eyes connected with yours.  There becomes no place to hide, desire is mirrored and hands become entwined.  Hence why mirrors are great for positions where the woman in particular is able to see her lover’s face whilst being pistoned…..   we are visual creatures also.

I’ve also pondered that half of man’s collective sexual problems is the inability to say our innate desires, to have the intimacy with someone else to say what they truly want.  For some it’s risky enough to say they are bi-curious or long to do something considered deviant like water sports or dressing up in women’s clothing.  It takes a lot of courage to just ‘be’ especially if you’re culture or background does not have liberal leanings.  We spend half our lives figuring ourselves out to just hide or shun it, this will always puzzle me.

If there’s one major criticism of porn it’s the lack of intimacy or connection, particularly for women.  Raunch is one thing, but the subtext behind it, to sense that the people involved have respect and longing for the other person(s) involved makes it far, far sexier.  It’s why when i do watch porn and head straight for the male/male aisle i fucking love the men that kiss, yes i love seeing them suck cock, i love the pounding – the passion and the stamina but give me a touch of intimacy along with that and i’m wrought beyond belief.

As for ultimate intimacy to me, funnily enough i have two, one is being able to cry with joy during sex and the other; allowing someone to sleep cuddled up  next to me.  To share my body whilst i sleep is beyond rare, i tend to unknowingly kick anyone away lest they make me feel claustrophobic or weighted down.  Cuddles are awesome, but i like to be unfettered during sleep.

What makes intimate sex to you readers?  do you prefer intimacy and raunch be separate bed partners or is the mingling a good thing??

 

Gillian has the best posts! I never thought hirsute porn had that much of a following, although i am of ye olde natural muff and honestly guys love it as it’s a novelty now as opposed to the hairless variety.

Alabaster statues and expressing erotica

As usual i’m awake fiendishly early pondering creative expression and how to behave or in my case misbehave in a poetic way.  Poetry and erotica is as much about the thoughts that dominate as it is about putting those feelings onto a canvas.

Canvasses come in many guises i am realising, during the arts festival iin my city on my daily walk i noticed a fantastic poem five metres high posted on the side wall of a court house, all splendourous in its creativity and i started thinking if i was inclined i would love to post my poems all over houses and buildings not to deface them but to make poetry more readable and big and bold.  Imagine poetry displayed proudly everywhere instead of contained in books…. novel thought isn’t it?

But i dont want to stop there, hell no.  My next goal is to become the canvas, think greek goddess posing as a life statue with white paint, white hair and the words written on my skin in black, perhaps standing in an art gallery, maybe somewhere warm and inviting.  The curves highlight the sensuality of what is written and it becomes art as well as poetry.  I’ve seen poetry becoming redefined in this era, i would like to take it further but i simply lack the confidence.

It’s often said the biggest barrier to success is oneself, and i admit to struggling with this, for something so cathartic as writing the ability to share is so very hard.  In many ways i would happily stand naked in front of you rather than read my work aloud or even watch your face as you read some of my work, it’s that intimate.  There seems to be a part of me that still thinks people are inherently cruel when it comes down to it so i keep private things very, very private.  Which is a shame as the ideas i have are wonderful and just need a guiding hand to be forced into life.

So i guess this is a little voice putting out the tendrils of expression, i’m going to start small in my endeavours and keep going boldly.  One paint stroke at a time…. until the canvas changes from paper to more intimate means.

Would love to know your views and art and poetry and how erotica can best be viewed or expressed?  What would you love to see in a museum, art gallery or living statue??

Peeps, borrowing this off the lovely Gillian, it epitomises what i think about BDSM, power struggles and the distinction between a good ‘man’ and a bad ‘boy’. Women are not as siimplistic as thought of, and there many things at play in the post modern era to define an Alpha, biology is just one and probably less important now we don’t have to hunt our own food. Feel free to comment or debate what defines a man (or woman) as an Alpha.

The sun on my skin…and memories of you

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I’m sitting outside half nude writing this, and in sublime heaven feeling the wind on my skin and the simple pleasure of the sun,  I probably should put on some sunscreen before i turn a crimson shade but for now it’s pleasant and still, there are not distractions apart from the feel of my finger tips on the keyboard.

You are always in my mind – never far away from the surface – embedded in my psyche.

I remember one morning of sneaking outside in the morning sun – a small rug on the grass and the feeling of being laid down on a small blanket, your body more of a shield than the fabric underneath.  You looked at me softly smiling, i would have asked if you enjoyed the visage of me naked and spread but you leant in and stroked me as a response before words escaped my lips.

I mewed in response as you kissed down my body, my fingers in your hair and resting on your shoulders.  The thought crossed my mind that we could be in the middle of forest floor and only the constant ebb and flow of touch was the only thing worth noting – that your  mouth on my wet, aching pussy was the centre of the universe.  I opened to you, and you worshipped me slowly. so very slowly.

Yours was a mouth made for me, insistent and sensual and supple – coupled with long fingers you had me dripping on your face, never stopping until i had to pull you up to my waiting lips your breath mingling with mine.  When we kissed long and hard i tasted my arousal on you and had to have you in me – to be infinitely closer. 

Strong  hands hoisted me onto your hips, i ran my nails along your chest and you never once moaned but your skin trembled beneath me.  Always an understanding between us that even if you couldn’t speak your words and breath and touch would tell me how aroused you were.  We often fucked quietly -or at least i tried to be quiet and always failed once you started moving within my sheathed walls.  Sometimes joy and desire cannot be contained, it’s exultant in expression.

I remember fucking that morning on top of you hard and sweet – the sheen of sweat on both of our bodies as we kept striving for more without being caught … and never wanting to see civilisation again if it meant remaining locked to you.

Every time i have a spare moment outside with soft sunlight i think of you, and i breathe in the distant memory and get wet all over again.