Showing posts with label lust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lust. Show all posts

The Dentist Who Doesn't Lust

>> Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Last week on a bus to the amazing metropolitan city of Chennai, I met a dentist. I know he was a dentist because he asked me why I hadn't sought out orthodontic treatment (I have unusually sharp and slightly out-of-place canines), and then gave me professional advice on how to correct my unseemliness ("Of course though, if it doesn't bother you aesthetically then I suppose it's alright"). I could hear him speak in italics. Added to this his constant greasy grinning and what he told me next, I don't think I liked him very much.

He said he didn't lust any more. We were discussing various Art of Living programmes (I haven't been to any but I would like to) and he told me how, through controlled breathing and willpower, he did not experience the negative emotion of lust any more.
What is negative about the emotion of lust? I don't always act on it, but the occassional surge of wanting (or frisson, as a writer of 'romantica' might put it) feels pretty nice.
If I could host erections, I'd want to be able to revel in them.

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Wild thing, I think I love you

>> Monday, April 20, 2009

Introduction

Title courtesy Jimi. This line from the song 'Wild Thing' stuck in my head, and I wanted to write something which would adequately capture it's spirit. I don't know how well I've managed, but well...here it is.

Chapter I

"I don't think we should", he grumbles as she pulls him along. She turns around to stare at him, her hands on her hips. "It's my tenth birthday. On your birthday, you decide what we do", she says and turns back with a toss of her long, curly hair, continuing to drag him by the hand.
The boy with the unruly mop of black hair and the deep green eyes glowers at her back. He is after all, still nine-and-three-quarters. And a whole inch shorter than her.
There is a mango orchard on the other side of the fence. They race to the nearest tree, panting. She starts to climb. "Get down", he whispers loudly, "You'll hurt yourself".
"Don't be silly", she yells back, throwing him a ripe mango. "I'm stronger than you are".
He grins at her, biting into the mango, the juice running down his shirt.
As she sits on a branch not very high up, the sun shines down on her. He looks up from his mango to see her slim legs dangling from the branch, her large brown eyes sparkling in the sunlight.
There is suddenly a lump in his throat. He swallows. And then coughs.
"Are you allright?"
"I'm fine", he says, frowning up at her.

Chapter II

Her brain clouded in a drug-induced haze, she sways lazily to the Pink Floyd playing somewhere in the distance as she fiddles with the buttons on her shirt.
She slips it off. Now in jeans and a bra, she walks across the room to sit astride his lap. She kisses him. Feeling lightheaded, he watches as she stands up to slowly remove her jeans, and then her bra. The black lace of her panties is in sharp, beautiful contrast to the cream of her skin. She turns to sit on the edge of the bed, her legs spread, and smiles at him.
He stands up and unbuttons his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. He walks to where she is sitting and she drags him closer by the waistband of his trousers, pushing him onto the bed. She crawls to him, her knees on either side of his. Spreading her hands over his chest, her brown eyes look deep into his unfathomable green ones and she grins. As she kisses him along the hard line of his jaw, her eyelashes brush his lower lip.

He breathes in, sharp.
She purrs, catlike.

Epilogue

Sitting hand in hand on the edge of the pier, their toes skim the cool waters of the lake. Her hair is loosely tied with a cloth. His is beginning to turn grey around the temples.
They are quiet as they watch the sun go down. As the evening chill starts to set in, she snuggles in closer to him. The boy with the green eyes kisses her forehead, and smiles down at his brown-eyed girl.

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