Archive for April, 2010


Photo courtesy of Emmy

Welcome to e[lust] – Your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #13? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site’s sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

FleshHer mind awash with the thought of fucking. The smell of his scent stirring her cunt, her skin alive and encased by lust.

Putting energy inPlay is energising, at its best; so when both of you are tired, sex or spanking can be a way to get away from it all, rejuvenate your emotional connection and stimulate body and brain with a flood of hormones and endorphines.

A Rude AwakeningIn the depths of the night, I half wake to the feel of her cool skin wrapping itself around my back. Soft breasts pushing against my ribs and her groin moulding itself to my buttocks.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Shouldn’tIt always starts off so inconspicuously. Innocent, like the sort of teasing that might occur now and then between any other pair of friends who share a hint of attraction to each other.

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

ComfortShe’s so strong and yet, when we lie down together, she makes herself small and vulnerable for me. ”Hold me” she says in a tiny voice

See also: Pleasurists #73 and #74 for all your sex toy review needs.

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Erotic Writing

Back Story
bodystocking blowjob
Bella Durmiente
Began my day
Current events
Fiction: Growth
First Meetings…
Game On
“I want your cock in my mouth”
“Make Me”
Mauled at Noon
Monday Morning Flash – “Bathtime”
musing/not asking
Oh, What a Night
One Last Surprise
Park ‘N Ride Me
Slut with Wine Bottle
Satin Met a Laddie
Wednesday meeting with V

Kink & Fetish

BDSM Advice Series: Gags
Domme for a day
FetInRealLife #12 – DIY Flogger
First Memories
Last Night
New friends and intense, sweaty, loud orgasms
Out with the Old, in with the New
Sluts, Squirts and Swing Clubs
Submissive Skills: Hunt Slut
taking her as My girl, discovering the Dom within
“Welcome to SpankingCast, our spanking podcast”

Sex News, Interviews, Politics and Humor

Building Community for Sex-Positive Sexuality Professionals
Soaking — Marinating in the Cunt of Christ

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Gay Pride
Going Bareback
I Can’t
Ladies, what do your genitals say about you?
My Identity is Erased
More Bad Advice
My Rape Story
Read and you may learn…V-massage
Psychology of Rape Fantasy- An Overview
Support Survivors
Top 10 Good Things About A LDR
You Shur Got a Pretty Mouth

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For the past week, there’s been an overcrowding issue at my place. Leading to lotsa people sleeping in one room, and not in a good way. In turn not allowing me any “ME” time. Which leads to this: I’m sharing a cab to the station and a girl/woman/female sitting beside me goes “Yadda yadda yadda…whole..yadda yadda”. On hearing that particular word, my mind goes into word association overdrive and I feel a familiar, and in this case, unwelcome rush of blood. #FML, anyone?

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Everything was a mess. Chaos had descended so thoroughly that it was impossible to turn around without bumping into someone carrying an important prop, who would promptly drop it, break it and rush away cursing. And that is exactly what happened. Turn, Bump, Drop, Smash and Curse. And Leave. He left, of course. As Grand Organizer Dominator Supreme, I had spent the past week pissing on everyone so thoroughly that they were probably as sick of seeing me as I was being in the same pin code with them. And to think, we had all been best friends the week before this fest started.

And that’s when she appeared. I didn’t see her at first, you know. Not really; I smelt her. I saw a pair of jeans walking towards me, and a whoosh of air as she knelt down to help. And that’s when it hit me. Not the tepid wisp of a jasmine/fruit/lily/rose deodorant, but the pungent saltiness of a woman. Hot, and musky.  She’d been working.

I’d not moved for 10 seconds and counting. That’s when she looked up. And I fell in Lust.

She was dressed casually, wearing a collared blue t-shirt tucked into her jeans. Hell, she’d even rolled up her sleeves. Long hair, single ponytail, white ribbon. Eyes the color of blackest night. Lips untouched, untrained, wild and free. And Red. Oh, so Red. Ample curve of the breasts, daring her clothing to hide it. Not that she’d tried especially hard to.

She was just about to say something when she caught the look in my eye. She smiled; she understood. And we knelt there, in the chaos that swirled around us, drifting into harmony. Not a word was exchanged. Looks were. She blushed crimson. I palpitated blue.

She stood up and leaned against the railing, looking out nonchalantly. I stayed; hypnotized by the bend of her buttocks. I knew why she had chosen that particular pose. She knew I was looking at her. And I knew she knew. And she knew that I knew that she knew.

She walked away to backstage, the most crowded area in the entire ground. I followed her, mesmerized by our secret. She stopped behind a curtain, peering out from it to watch the performance on stage. I walked up and stood right behind, looking over her shoulder at a group of monkeys. For all the world, we were innocently enjoying the show, strangers forced together by happenstance.

I knew not whether I was right. I knew not whether this was just my imagination. I knew not whether I could move forward and take the fist step. I didn’t need to know. She bent, ever so slightly, rubbing her back against my front. And all my doubts, all hesitation, and all my fears vanished. I imitated her, just moving ahead a little to bump into her beautiful butt and then pulled back. We continued this dance, did we, she moving back and me moving forward till touches became squeezes and gasps became moans.

The applause got us out of our reverie. She moved quickly, decisively. I followed. She led me straight to a room on the upper floors of the institute; empty, dark and cold. We didn’t even bother closing the door. She leaned against the wall, waiting. I bent my head, touching her lips with mine, just brushing at first, feinting before I could feint no more. She pulled me in, closer. I could feel her breasts on my chest, crushed, squeezed and pulpy. We kissed. I felt her leg moving upwards, demanding I carry her so she can wrap herself around me. I oblige; what other choice do I have? We kiss again. And we kiss for eternity.

She breaks it first. She tilts her head back, and we look at each other as we’ve never looked earlier. She plants her feet firmly on the ground and releases her arms from my neck. I realize what she has in mind and let her leave. As she walks out that door, she turns around to look at me and for one whole fleeting second, licks her lips.

And just like that, she’s gone. I know I will never see her again. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. A magical evening, sprinkled with stardust.

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There wasn’t anything special about the Ad.

Just another mushy one-liner supposed to get us all gooey.

The girl in her push-up bra looked cute, even earnest in her “I’m-cold-and-wet-but-don’t-look-at-me-like-that look.” Or was it the “Holy-Hell-How-do-I-get-myself-into-such-messes?” look?

But what really elevated this ad for me was this particular shot. Where you can see her tummy. And the fact that she had love handles.

I don’t know whether it was just a side effect of the skirt being too tight, but look at her, she IS the girl standing at our bus stops, the girls we have a chance with. The ones who smile if we offer our umbrellas and don’t look at us with crinkled noses as if we smell like spoilt cheese.

And she’s got the handles. If I dived face-first into her tummy, I’d softly sink into the warmth of her skin. Not bang my nose on her pelvis.

I can only imagine the ride downwards getting fleshier, messier and oh-so-warmer.

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Preity Zinta is a perky, zesty female. Who looks killer in the KXIP T-shirt.

The only reason I still watch those matches is because they show her jumping up and down a few times. I pray for them to do well so that she jumps more and more.

I told you I’m a pervert. Not my bad if you didn’t believe me.

But what really struck me is, how absolutely perky her breasts are. The stand perpendicular to her body no matter what the situation, no matter how much she jumps. They stand erect in a manner a man’s erection would be put to shame. And her bras are classy as well. Never a hint of a bra line. Just the smooth red material flowing over a gorgeous pink breast.

A man can only dream, can’t he?

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