All I wanted was to drop to my knees
Put her body on the altar and revere her.
Trace those veins I see on her neck
See which terrains they lead my fingers to.
I still remembered the pink camisole and blue jeans she was wearing that day, and how skinny she used to be. God, we used to be so dorky.
I kiss along her collarbone. She moans when I reach the curve of her neck and gently suck. I cup her breasts and stroke her nipples with my thumbs. I nuzzle her shoulder, breathing in the salty citrus scent of her skin.
Narendra searched for the clothes that had just left Akbar. He smelt each one. But every attempt remained a try. Their flesh had felt cool. But he could not smell if evaporation was producing a cooling effect on their tired body or if their skin had recently showered.
Smiling, I turn to face her and interlace our fingers. I sweep my gaze over her; a deep blue bikini highlights her exquisite athletic body. When my eyes meet her striking blue ones, I lean closer and whisper softly, “I am now.”
Min hums again, gentler, sweeter, happier. She pulls the hold on her waist to fit tightly, like a restraint. It grows into an embrace. Tae's arm coils around and up her skin, cold fingers holding her throat, quiet sighs holding her ear, bony hips holding her dear.
The kiss is returned tentatively, but Gee returns it just the same. She finds the ball of boldness in her to do it.
Arya and Isla are making the most of an unnaturally chilly February 14. This is their first Valentine’s Day together, and they don’t want to dull the heat, both between and around them.
You come in less than a minute after I do
But always after me
And I wish you'd stay for a while and talk about the day- your day with me
But the line goes dead soon after
Inspired by official prompts from #Inktober, which included suggestive words like #Sling, #Wild, #Ride, #Catch, #Ripe, etc. – Ghosh decided to give his illustrations a kinky twist.
Erotic art based in queer lives often blurs the line between pleasure and heterosexual fetishization and objectification.
The curtains shut, and the door locked; he and I would spend hours kissing, holding, bending and folding into each other making up for the time at college where we only got to exchange glances in class
Honestly, he’d have preferred to read a book, or perhaps sketch. The male form was his specialty.
I’m ready, but now she’s asking me to share this in a voiced answer, in a way that is so complete, it terrifies me.
For a moment, I felt numbed by these thoughts. But my heart was adamant. I had to try, life is too small to not express what lies in our heart.
I remember how I used to incorporate my creativity to my exhibitionism, a different scene every time, from coming out in balcony in towel to hang my underwear for drying in sun and dropping my towel by mistake to playing in torn underwear from front and back, I tried all.
Didn’t know you were watching me. I thought you were busy taking your clothes off!
Every kiss of yours was touching my soul,
and the butterflies were giggling at our tryst.
These photographs reveal pain, eroticism and passion intersecting with our desires in our private thoughts.
One year and many sessions down the line, today if you ask me do I ‘enjoy’ pain, I’ll say I don’t know. The word enjoy somehow does not fit. But if you ask me, am I turned on by pain… I would not hesitate for a second…hell, yes, I am.