Eroticism

Context.
Bear with me…
…was it when you first shared that song because it just felt ‘right’? Or does it evoke memories of someone that continues to smoulder and linger? Perhaps it can be the only soundtrack that it is played on long Sunday afternoons spent arm in arm.

For me, this has ‘context’ in spades

 
Context.
Bear with me…
…was it when you first shared that song because it just felt ‘right’? Or does it evoke memories of someone that continues to smoulder and linger? Perhaps it can be the only soundtrack that it is played on long Sunday afternoons spent arm in arm.

For me, this has ‘context’ in spades

Yes.. lots of suggestive hues here.. I’ll be listening to this as I slip into sleep.. goodnight, boys 💋
 
I’m not very knowledgeable about classical music, especially operatic pieces. But this came up on my feed today and…. erotic whimsy? Definitely, for me. I think it’s the rapport, the endearment and the coupling that is happening. Also… i’ve always found musical women so attractive. And so even though I’ve never seen her before, I do really fancy Elizabeth Boudreault!

 
I’m not very knowledgeable about classical music, especially operatic pieces. But this came up on my feed today and…. erotic whimsy? Definitely, for me. I think it’s the rapport, the endearment and the coupling that is happening. Also… i’ve always found musical women so attractive. And so even though I’ve never seen her before, I do really fancy Elizabeth Boudreault!

Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! oh.my.godddd!! I think I've had a kind of orgasm...a kind...I know not what...but there it is..the way she moves...the way she moves...oh! the way she moooooves....
 
Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! oh.my.godddd!! I think I've had a kind of orgasm...a kind...I know not what...but there it is..the way she moves...the way she moves...oh! the way she moooooves....
….and I feel so did she…almost. I believe to deliver such a performance she needed to immerse herself.

Music stirs so much emotion in us.
 
I’m not very knowledgeable about classical music, especially operatic pieces. But this came up on my feed today and…. erotic whimsy? Definitely, for me. I think it’s the rapport, the endearment and the coupling that is happening. Also… i’ve always found musical women so attractive. And so even though I’ve never seen her before, I do really fancy Elizabeth Boudreault!

I have been watching this on repeat
 
I fall in love, each and every time, when the fabric kisses me, holds true to the truth of me. Each time, the thread clings, kisses, suckles my breasts, and I feel its ardour with each movement, each pause, I am in throes of some dans macabre, a dance that borders in both death and resurrection.

And oh! When the eyes, the eyes, that beast, multifoliate rose, throws its many spears my way, I rose like smoke, smouldering, effervescent.

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I’m not very knowledgeable about classical music, especially operatic pieces. But this came up on my feed today and…. erotic whimsy? Definitely, for me. I think it’s the rapport, the endearment and the coupling that is happening. Also… i’ve always found musical women so attractive. And so even though I’ve never seen her before, I do really fancy Elizabeth Boudreault!

So gorgeous!
 
I fall in love, each and every time, when the fabric kisses me, holds true to the truth of me. Each time, the thread clings, kisses, suckles my breasts, and I feel its ardour with each movement, each pause, I am in throes of some dans macabre, a dance that borders in both death and resurrection.

And oh! When the eyes, the eyes, that beast, multifoliate rose, throws its many spears my way, I rose like smoke, smouldering, effervescent.

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Oh my goodness! This was breathtaking!
 
I fall in love, each and every time, when the fabric kisses me, holds true to the truth of me. Each time, the thread clings, kisses, suckles my breasts, and I feel its ardour with each movement, each pause, I am in throes of some dans macabre, a dance that borders in both death and resurrection.

And oh! When the eyes, the eyes, that beast, multifoliate rose, throws its many spears my way, I rose like smoke, smouldering, effervescent.

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I think the way you choose the images, the way you choose the words, these things are the eroticism in this thread. I think there is another erotic thread as well, but I feel that one tends to border on the explicitly sexual. Perhaps, there are varying kinds of eroticism. But this...this! @softbird you maybe the catchphrase for eriticism itself. "I love the 'softbirdic' way you..." ...or "did you see how she moved? It was so 'softbird' Are there hashtags in Lit? #softbird
 
I fall in love, each and every time, when the fabric kisses me, holds true to the truth of me. Each time, the thread clings, kisses, suckles my breasts, and I feel its ardour with each movement, each pause, I am in throes of some dans macabre, a dance that borders in both death and resurrection.

And oh! When the eyes, the eyes, that beast, multifoliate rose, throws its many spears my way, I rose like smoke, smouldering, effervescent.

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Speechless 😍😍😍😍😍♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️🔥🔥🔥🔥
 
There are stories that fall between the cracks of the world, little tales that never get heard, yet, in some strange, ephemeral way, they remain in our consciousness. And days or weeks go by and suddenly you realise why is it that you felt this way about a book, or a film or a person - it was the way the words were written, the way the colour palette was used, the light maybe, or the way she stepped out onto the pavement, her ankle, soft but certain, self-affirming, the pivot upon which such things as legs seem to thrive upon.

I look at ankles all the time. And I always wish to kiss them, press them against my cheeks, or between my thighs, forging heat with heat.

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Somewhere in the silences of my nights, I must look away from the world, crawl, like a miner, into the cave of my very centre. In this turning away, I think I’m trying to find purity, to hold on to a part of myself that is constantly been threatened by those who want it, who want to possess it. This silence of erotic to me. Self-discovery always is.
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Somewhere in the silences of my nights, I must look away from the world, crawl, like a miner, into the cave of my very centre. In this turning away, I think I’m trying to find purity, to hold on to a part of myself that is constantly been threatened by those who want it, who want to possess it. This silence of erotic to me. Self-discovery always is.
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An interesting take on eroticism.. 🙏
 
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