• #10528 (no title)
  • 15 September 2020
  • Gourmet, Down South
  • The Author
  • Walking
  • What Endures. What Passes.

Dispatches From Dystopia

~ "What man by worrying can add one cubit to his span of years?"

Dispatches From Dystopia

Category Archives: seduction

There Are Times

10 Saturday Nov 2018

Posted by David in Erotic Writing, seduction

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Tags

#Longing

There are times it doesn’t matter

Who you voted for

How much weight you need to lose

Whether you exercised or not.

What matters is the passion that

Smoulders,

Love unquenched, eager

Hands ready to caress

Lips keen to press on pliant skin

As tongues taste the secret places.

Free.

01 Wednesday Mar 2017

Posted by David in Gender Roles, Love and stuff, seduction, Sexual Identity

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nude

I walked four miles in warm, windy weather under a bright sun. The weather would change to blustery, with dark clouds and rain after I finished.

Inside, after my walk, I stripped off my sweaty clothes and savored the free feeling that only nudity offers. My imagination put aside the reality of differing libidos and values and inhibitions as I fancied myself deliberately making love with my wife. Tasting her body, caressing her, feeling her kisses on my skin. Taking her with certainty, authority, and power.

Water Conservation, Now More Important Than Ever

14 Tuesday Feb 2017

Posted by David in Hedonism, Love and stuff, Relationships, seduction

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Adult Fun

Slightly Naughty. Using Grownup Words. Use Caution.

Jimmy climbed into the roomy double headed shower stall, spray coming from both ends, so no showering buddy gets left out. He welcomed the hot water pounding his tense neck and shoulders. It was a pulsating needle spray that was having a most salubrious effect on his work-stressed body. Looking down at his fingernails, Jimmy noticed the corona of grime about his nails and fingertips. “Unsatisfactory”, thought he as he applied the nailbrush, filled with pumice to the nails, till they were as pristine as a surgeon’s, better yet, a gynecologist’s, for his purposes.

Looking up, he saw Felicia at the shower door, holding a tray with the iced hibiscus tea they both were fond of, its red so inviting in the acrylic tumblers, made even more so by the sprig of mint and lime wedge. He opened the door; she walked in, putting the tumblers on the back ledge, out of range of the shower spray. Her hands went to work on his shoulders and neck, a splendid accompaniment to the needle spray.

“Nice.”, he said.

“Shush” she said. “you just relax.” Taking the natural sponge, she squirted the fragrant lavender Castille soap into the sponge and watched the lather build. She went to work soaping his back and legs, Turning him she scrubbed his chest and arms. She reached for the bottle of peppermint soap and squirted a bit of it into his pubes. Working up the lather, she soaped his prick, looking into his eyes as the tingle of the peppermint gave that extra bit of stimulation to his member. When her fingers were nice, slick, tingly and soapy she set to washing his scrotum,  perineum, and anus. He smiled and she smiled too, as her finger worked its way into him.  She had freer range to fully explore his ass.  His body was hers to please and enjoy. She relished these shows of power, making him even harder, his cock pulsing in her soapy hand.  Then she stopped, just shy of his release.

“You just relax, Big Boy. No need to hurry.”  Squirting more soap into the sea sponge she scrubbed his back, his buttocks, stopping to give them an appreciative squeeze.

Fantasy At Tea Time

30 Monday Jan 2017

Posted by David in cooking, Fruit, Love and stuff, seduction, Tea

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Fantasy, Oranges, Patchouli, Tea

I hear the kettle begin its slow deliberate rumble as it approaches its boiling shriek. I consider my choices of tea in the multiple options: black, green, or herbal, bags or loose, hot or cold. The delicious, exotic names tempt the imagination before they please the palate. Lapsang Souchong, Gunpowder Green, Golden Assam, peppermint, Red Zinger.

Today Gunpowder Green wins. When the water boils, I fill the pot to warm it, swish the boiling water about, empty the pot and add the four teaspoons of the dried specks of Gunpowder Green Tea. I set the timer and let it steep. When  I return, the tiny specks have grown to large leaves, more reminiscent of spinach than of mundane old tea.  The bitterness I soften with two teaspoons of turbinado sugar, the tawny crystals, dissolving in the hot brew. I have a navel orange I have sectioned. I think of the line from the Leonard Cohen song  Suzanne.  “And she brings you tea and oranges that come all the way from China.”

And now I am not the one who brewed the tea or sectioned the orange.  It is my lover. I smell the patchouli, from the incense or is it her perfume?  I watch as she pours the tea from the classic Japanese pot into my handleless cup. She offers a section of orange. I savor its sweetness as I gaze into her eyes and move to her lips to kiss them 

Our tongues twist and explore these places, these mouths, they know so well.  I now kiss the back of her neck , the top vertebra exposed, unbutton her shirt to show the splendid, naked flesh and now place a decade of kisses down her bony, beautiful spine.  

And if more should come and if tea time flows to night and the bed becomes our sanctuary and our shrine, then it is a day well spent.

Naked In Our Queen-sized Bed

26 Saturday Nov 2016

Posted by David in Love and stuff, seduction

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Life Itself, passion, Sex

I tell you now that naked is good, that all bodies are meant to be that way.

Naked and cuddled. Grasped and groped, sweaty , redolent with sex , slippery with lube and spittle

I tell you that your body was meant to be kissed at every secret place, with thrust and probe, each secret escapes in a moan, a cry, a lurid exclamation not taught at Sunday School, but in its way as sacred a prayer as can be ever be uttered.

October Lust

20 Thursday Oct 2016

Posted by David in Love and stuff, seduction

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

love, lovers

This is one of those Virginia tricks, when the leaves have almost turned,  but it is down right hot outside. 

Again?  Yes. And the sweat collects in our hair and when I kiss the back of your neck, I taste the salt and smell the sweat and I wonder why we still have our clothes on.

Here?  Here.  And my hands slide up your skirt to pull your panties down. And place them on the rail, a simple rag to the untrained eye.  I feel your naked buttocks, then stroking your cunny with my middle finger til the little dew drops betray your lust. 

I rub against you, but frottage is not my game as the dusk gives enough concealment to unbutton my jeans, then slide my hard wetness in. I pull your hips to me and  thrust, while you frig your clit and grind back harder.

And after I come, I pull out while you grip the rail, your legs too weak, just yet, to walk, as the semen drips out on the deck.

Musical Prompt: Ella Fitzgerald Sings The Rogers & Hart Songbook

12 Wednesday Oct 2016

Posted by David in Love and stuff, seduction

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

coming out, Ella Fitzgerald, love, Politics, Rogers & Hart

I read where this is National Coming Out Day. I’m an LGBT-friendly heterosexual male, who also happens to be, more or less, conservative politically. I moved beyond being conflicted by the Trump candidacy weeks ago to down right repulsed and ashamed. Good luck Hillary. Remember that people are going to vote for you who don’t like you or your politics one  iota but simply want the country led by an adult.

Back to the music and coming out. Lorenz Hart was a gay man, also an alcoholic. Being a drunk, I therefore meet a goodly number of lesbians and gays in the rooms of recovery. Bottom line, they are damn good people. 

Rogers & Hart.  These are wonderful songs. I listen to them and I want to slow dance, cheek to cheek (that’s an Irving Berlin song reference) with my wife, the woman who loves me and whom I love.  Alas she doesn’t dance. Nor do I. These songs are just too romantic to go to waste. If no dancing, just maybe some necking on the couch before we adjourn to bed. Is that asking too much?

Flashback To 1979, Formerly Titled Saint-Saens Flashback

21 Thursday Jul 2016

Posted by David in Classical Music, food, memoir, seduction

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Olds F-85, Saint-Saens

The Compact Disc set arrived yesterday. I have always been a fan of the Saint-Saens Piano Concerti from the time I first heard them back in 1979.  However, until I put the first of the discs in the player yesterday afternoon, and heard the french horns open the Concerto #1 with the orchestral response, I didn’t realize how deeply this music had affected me.

You see, it was the background music of an affair, of a romance that morphed into a marriage.    I don’t know the precisely first time I heard them. The pianist on that first recording , on vinyl, of course, was Aldo Ciccolini,  a great interpreter of Saint-Saens.  What I remember was a dinner at her house. There were grilled chicken breasts, and a salad with slivered almonds and mandarin oranges on romaine, tossed with olive oil, lemon juice and parmesan cheese. Rice? Perhaps. Memory goes in and out. But there was wine, dry white wine, that generic “Chablis” that came in a three liter jug. She was very genteel and tastefully decanted that dreadful swill into a lovely decanter with a lovely stopper, etched glass at the base with a solid glass sphere atop it. The dinner and the music were pleasant and cordial. We talked of our pasts. I came with the baggage of a broken marriage, she with a live-in relationship that did not end well. We drank more wine. We were not yet lovers.

To reciprocate her invitation, I invited her to dinner at my apartment. I fixed the quiche Lorraine  I learned to make from The Joy of Cooking.  We had a pleasant dinner, although the news that day featured a plane crash and an execution. We talked some more. Then we made love for the first time. I remember the skirt she wore, a pale blue skirt with flowers on it, in a very light material and it draped beautifully from her full hips. She proudly told me later that she had a “black lady’s ass”. She did.

We went on trips together in her blue 1970 Olds F-85. with a cassette player. The pirated cassettes of the Concerti  went with us. We drove to Highlands, North Carolina to see a friend of hers. A great trip. Sex. Wine. Pot. Music, Saint-Saens.  A few weeks later we drove to Utica, New York where she interviewed for a college teaching position. By then we were deeply in love. I was ready to quit my job and follow her to Utica if she were hired. And again we listened to Saint-Saens in the blue Olds as we explored the countryside of upstate New York, towns like New Hartford  that featured a green town common reminiscent of Norman Rockwell.  We went to Cooperstown to the Baseball Hall of Fame, where we both concurred that one old baseball glove from the 1930’s looks like any other old baseball glove from the 1930’s. We went to the Oneida Community, where John Humphrey Noyes, in 1848, founded the commune that would spawn the flatware manufacturer and Noyes would experiment with a group marriage, what we would consider polyamory today. Plus ca Change… eh?  More Concerti and the  Septet in E Flat, Op. 85, filler on the album, but a perfect gem in its own right.

The music played on  that summer. We discovered we both loved sailing.  One Sunday night, after a day on the water, we made love on her green printed sheets that featured sailboats and wooded islands, evocative of Maine, I guess. That night, I proposed. She accepted. We smoked more marijuana, listened to Paul McCartney sing  Maybe I’m Amazed, made love some more.

Maybe it should have stopped there. Maybe I would have grown up sooner, quit drinking sooner, stopped using sex as if it were another drug sooner,  faced my demons sooner. Maybe there would not have been the penultimate nightmare of divorce, the ultimate nightmare of her untimely and secretive death. Mixed in with all that pain and all that folly was all that love and hedonism and passion. That’s right, our deepest yearnings.

Laundry Day, Circa 1958

28 Tuesday Jun 2016

Posted by David in Love and stuff, memoir, seduction

≈ 2 Comments

On the vinyl-covered flossy line,

Stretched between two iron T’s

Painted with silvery aluminum paint,

Are their secrets, of a sort.

Her slips, brassieres and panties, pristine white as a wedding gown.

His button-front cotton drawers,  archaic as a shaving brush,

Hang pegged to the line with wooden pins, by spring-loaded tension.

The wind blows on this sunny day,

Evaporation is magic as shirts and chinos change to cotton boards,

As another metamorphosis, by shiny electric iron, awaits.

Night finds the bed  clothed anew, sheets infused with outdoor smell,

The fragrant aphrodisiac invites repose, compels arousal.

He removes the propriety of pyjamas, as she sheds opacity of nightgown.

And, confident of sleeping children and plaster walls,

With caress and kiss,  pant and cry,

They create, at the very least,

…..another load of laundry

Seducer and Seduced

04 Wednesday May 2016

Posted by David in seduction

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

passion

Apostrophe

Poem, be compliant to my caress

Surrender words,  diaphanous letters yielding to my touch,

Reveal  naked subtlety in virginal skin.

Have me fall in love with what I cast into the cosmos.

Tell my lover she is Beloved, Poem

That she and you are one.

Have her feel  gnawing longing absence,  rapturous consummation,

passionate sweat and awkward drip unleashed.

Poem, you are risk itself,

the entreaty sent my Lover, risks anechoic void.

 

[ Oh my God! I published this!]

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