India!

What I find particularly lovely, and particularly Indian, about this work of art, one of hundreds on the walls on the temples at Khajuraho, is the expression of happiness and pleasure on the elephant’s face. He just happened to find these two people, a woman and a priest of Shiva, I think, taking pleasure with each other. Their happiness made him happy too. 

Dante talked of the love that moved the stars and the worlds in their orbit. But I always found that thin and inadequate because he meant “divine” love, or humans wasting love on an imaginary and rather nasty entity. 

In this Indian world-view, love is between living things, where it belongs, and it unites all species and all people and all the world. 

Dawn breaks over the Ganges.

(I got up at 5.30AM to get this photo, which is not my favourite time of day, but I’m so very, very glad I did it. It was magical.)

It got even more magical a few seconds later, when the dawn was greeted with bells and chanting from this side of the river. It was other-worldly, an utterly different world. 

I can’t pretend I didn’t notice that Indian women are beautiful. I didn’t take many pictures because of consent issues, but I asked these girls if I could, since they were sharing my Ganges boat with me. 

They’re just women, I know. Not supermodels. But they affected me enough that when I took this photo I paid them a gauche compliment (“this is the most beautiful photo I’ve taken in India”) and then felt stupid immediately after. So they were good-looking enough enough to make me feel like an idiot of about 18, all over again. 

India! Yes, I’m going back.

Wicked Wednesday: Stay the night

Maddie is in Will’s office, seeking permissions for things like orgasms. But she invites herself to Will’s house to stay the night. She leaves her knickers on his office floor, in case he forgets certain important things about the two of them.

It’s a hot scene but it’s had to leave my blog because it’s published now, and publishers don’t like their stuff to be available for free. I’ll put up a link to where you can buy this very hot text, shortly.

Masturbation Monday: Slow and fat-cocked, taking his time

Philip said, “Good girls, both of you. Jayavardhini, I want you to roll over, onto your back, please. And Chetana, I think she’d like to be kissed a lot, by you, while I fuck her.”

Jayavardhini turned, making sure she was still partly lying on Chetana, her head resting between her breasts, and her thighs held by Chetana’s.

She said, “This is true. I don’t seem to have any limit, for being kissed.”

Philip rolled out from under Chetana’s legs. He supported himself on hands and knees about Jayavardhini, cock pointing at her cunt. Jayavardhini reached down and squeezed it in her hand. “That’s a very sincere cock.”

Philip gasped when she touched him, then smiled at her. “Sincere and single minded. You need fucking, by me. Right now. Chetana, while I fuck her, I think she’d like you to stroke her tits, and sometimes to pinch her nipples. A lot harder than you usually do.”

Jayavardhini leaned forward and kissed his cock, taking it inturned her head to kiss the inner slope of Chetana’s left breast. “This is true, too.”

Philip placed his knees between Jayavardhini’s thighs. She felt his cock pressing at her cunt, though he didn’t push forward.

His arms, holding him above her and Chetana, shook slightly as he held himself back. His face was utterly serious, utterly focussed. He lowered his head and kissed her, and when she responded hungrily he pressed forward just a little. She was ready for him. She had been since she started to pleasure Chetana and, since he’d held her over his lap, he was in a position to know that.

Chetana leaned forward and joined their kiss. Their eyes met, each of them amused by the other two and delighted to be together.

Chetana said, “Jayavardhini, you be nice to my man. Philip, you be nice to my girlfriend. Starting, oh, now, I think.”

Philip said nothing. But he pressed forward, entering slowly, sensually, while Jayavardhini’s cunt welcomed him.

She gasped, and put her hands on his shoulders. She savoured his entry, slow and fat-cocked, taking his time. Taking her time. She kissed his neck. 

 

Sinful Sunday: A benign Indian universe

This is a very famous image, and I’m not the first to photograph it. But this is ˆmy ˆphoto. 

It’s from the walls of a temple in Khajuraho in Madhya Pradesh, India. It was not, at the time, inappropriate to have such joyous, benign, sexual images as part of a temple. 

(The official version of Hinduism now prevalent is more sexually conservative. This is a trace of a nearly vanished past.)

Three things strike me about these. The first is the artistry. There are hundreds and hundreds of these sexual images on these temple walls, showing different positions, and each gives attention to the sinuous eroticism of the flesh, and to make sure the humanity and the affection of the various sexual groupings are apparent to the viewer. 

Second, this is a very benign, pro-love, humane universe, as depicted on these temple walls. We’re not used to finding that in religion.

The third is related to that benign worldview: a kind of human humour. The man on the left and the woman at the right of the lovers are not lovers themselves, it seems. But they are inspired by the sexuality of the scene they’re witnessing. Both the man and the woman are masturbating. Everybody is taking pleasure, as they can.

E(lust) 116: Hot times and true

Elus6 116 Hyacynth Header

Photo courtesy of A Dissolute Life Means

Welcome to Elust 116

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #117? Start with the rules, come back April 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

The Space Between Us

Language Matters

Extraordinary Hands

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Chips

I believe I can fly.

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

photographie érotique ~ a perspective

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*

Body Talk and Sexual Health

Love Hurts
Lustless
Parity
Relearning How to Masturbate.
My Cunt is Art
Hormones, Anxiety and Menopause

Erotic Non-Fiction

Watching Their Mouth

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

The night I went to a BDSM club
A higher age of consent for bdsm?
Fear

Erotic Fiction

hands up
Do you Dare? After Party Party
The Waiting Game
Vicki’s Dream
The Fear Factor
Bloomed Bright
My legs are longer than my patience.

Erotic Non-Fiction

A couple of couples

Blogging

Amazing Love

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Do you really want to hurt me?

Writing About Writing

The Problem with Perfectionism

 

 

 

Elust

Wicked Wednesday: Does it matter what you want?

Will uses their tool kit to demonstrate to Maddie that life is best when what she wants doesn’t count. Which, paradoxically, is what she wants. But that still leads to a fuck that’s all the hotter for being physically uncomfortable, until she has to beg to be allowed to come.

It’s a hot scene but it’s had to leave my blog because it’s published now, and publishers don’t like their stuff to be available for free. I’ll put up a link to where you can buy this very hot text, shortly.

Masturbation Monday: The orgasmic arch

Philip laughed. He wasn’t mocking her, as she was mocking him. He was just happy. He pulled her a little higher in the bed, so her face was in kissing range of Chetana’s cunt. He shuffled with her, so he still had his thighs under, positioning her bottom up and posed. Chetana put her hand on the back of Jayavardhini’s head, then took her ears. “Come on, little one.”

Jayavardhini wriggled her arms out of Philip’s grip and brought them forward to slide under Chetana’s ass. She lowered her head and touched her tongue to Chetana’s cunt, just touching her lips. Then she took her tongue away, so that Chetana opened her mouth and let her head fall back, and then pressed forward, tongue touching her lover again. 

Jayavardhini smiled when Chetana gasped, and Philip’s hand landed on her bottom, again. This was a good game: she was pleasing Chetana, her lover, and Philip, who she expected to call her lover soon. And in her apparent submission she was the centre of attention in that bed, and she held more than her share of the power.

Chetana sighed, pleasured, and Jayavardhini rewarded her, licking along the outside of her cunt, from bottom to top. Then she pressed her tongue a little harder, opening her lover and tasting her. She could taste Philip too, it seemed. She supposed she’d have to get used to thinking of Chetana as one of her lovers. Plural.

Philip had his hand on her ass, squeezing firmly where he’d smacked. He smacked her twice, left side then right, his hand hard. And good. She lost her rhythm with Chetana, but gained in passion. He set up his own rhythm now, spanking her slow and long, the impacts but not getting harder, nor faster. She was being taken on a ride.

Chetana, under her mouth, was wet and soft, a surrender of a different kind. She kissed Chetana’s cunt, wanting her to feel her love as well as her desire to please her, then licked her sweet, opened flesh, moving a little faster.

She felt Philip’s hand on her ass, hurting her in the knowledge that that she would turn any pain he gave her into sex. Chetana gasped again, under her tongue. Philip smacked Jayavardhini’s ass a little harder, and then again. She surrendered her body and part of her soul to him, letting him do what he wanted, trusting that she would love it whatever it might be.

Chetana leaned back, caressing Jayavardhini’s face with her thighs, as she worked. Philip increased the speed, though not the severity of her spanking. He must be watching the two of them; she could feel his erection pushing into her hip.

She knew that if she were not so aroused, his spanking would be hurting by now. He was spanking her smartly, the way he might if he ever intended to punish her, and she let him. But the blows brought her no pain. Only a long, continuous wave of lust.

Her fingers tightened on Chetana’s muscular buttocks, digging into her flesh, intending to hurt her. Chetana gasped in response, then stayed vocal, cooing her pleasure. She was going to come soon.

Jayavardhini focussed her tonguing on her lover’s clitoris, pulling her right hand from under Chetana’s ass to insert two fingers into her cunt. They entered easily; Chetana was so soft, so wet. Jayavardhini pushed those fingers upwards, and pressed and lapped her harder with her tongue.

Philip was landing his hand on her ass hard and fast now, and the rhythm was right for Jayavardhini to stay with it as she face-fucked Chetana. She increased the pressure on Chetana’s clitoris, and felt her tense suddenly. Chetana’s back arched, so Jayavardhini had to follow as her bottom lifted from the bed. Chetana screamed, her pleasure sounding like the darkest grief, as if she were being tortured.

Jayavardhini kissed her cunt and said, “Ooh, my love.”

But Philip’s hand landed again on her ass, much harder than before, and she yelped. The sound of his slap echoed in the cabin, and he growled, “Don’t you dare stop.” Jayavardhini returned to her task, tonguing Chetana, and slipped two fingers into her ass. Chetana screamed again, then her head fell back and her body slipped forward, relaxed. Jayavardhini kissed her navel, then the ribs between her breasts.

Chetana opened her eyes at last and stretched, then wrapped her legs round Jayavardhini and held her hair in her hands. “Thank you. Thank you, both of you. I love you. Both of you.”

Sinful Sunday: The Choice (in honour of the Khajuraho artists)

The slavegirl is ready. I’m ready too.

But when you’ve turned a bad girl back into a good girl, and you both want to celebrate that alchemical transformation, the master faces a choice. Both options are wonderful. Still, it’s worth a moment’s pause, for consideration. (Then some more pause, while he reaches for the lube.)

This, by the way, is the first appearance of my penis, or part thereof, in this blog.

India!

I’m in India. Up there is a tiny fragment of the erotic art at Khajuraho.

I was up at 5 this morning to watch the sunrise on the Ganges. I have a six in the morning start tomorrow, too. 

I have a good many things to say, and many good things to say. But I also got exhaustion, flu and an angry case of diarrhoea. This is not going to be the time I say those good things. 

Despite the exhaustion and the rest of it, I’m having a wonderful time, and I love India. But I’m looking forward to slowing down. 

You’ll hear from me properly soon.

Here’s the pic I took, of which the top image is just one one fragment.

 

 

 

Wicked Wednesday: With a breadknife?

Jennifer is happy across her Headmaster’s lap. She tries to tell him how he could make her – and him, she’s sure – happier still. She is detailed, determined and explicit.

It’s a hot scene but it’s had to leave my blog because it’s published now, and publishers don’t like their stuff to be available for free. I’ll put up a link to where you can buy this very hot text, shortly.