Excitement

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From Best Erotica & Sexual Deviance Narratives Ever Written (2024)

  "We sat down on a soft-cushioned divan, in front of one of those ebony Arab tables all inlaid with coloured ivory and iridiscent mother-of-pearl. "'I cannot give you a banquet, although I expected you; still, there is enough to satisfy your hunger, I hope.' "There were some luscious Cancale oysters—few, but of an immense size; a dusty bottle of Sauterne, then a paté de foie gras highly scented with Périgord truffles; a partridge, with paprika or Hungarian curry, and a salad made out of a huge Piedmont truffle, as thinly sliced as shavings, and a bottle of exquisite dry sherry. "All these delicacies were served in dainty blue old Delft and Savona ware, for he had already heard of my hobby for old majolica. "Then came a dish of Seville oranges, bananas, and pineapples, flavoured with Maraschino and covered with sifted sugar. It was a savoury, tasty, tart and sweet medley, combining together the flavour and perfume of all these delicious fruits. "After having washed it down with a bottle of sparkling champagne, we then sipped some tiny cups of fragrant and scalding Mocha coffee; then he lighted a narghilè, or Turkish water pipe, and we puffed at intervals the odorous Latakiah, inhaling it with our ever-hungry kisses from each other's mouths. "The fumes of the smoke and those of the wine rose up to our heads, and in our re-awakened sensuality we soon had between our lips a far more fleshy mouth-piece.than the amber one of the Turkish pipe. "Our heads were again soon lost between each other's thighs. We had once more but one body between us, juggling with one another, ever seeking new caresses, new sensations, a sharper and more inebriating kind of lewdness, in our anxiety not only to enjoy ourselves but to make the other one feel. We were, therefore, very soon the prey of a blasting lust, and only some inarticulate sounds expressed the climax of our voluptuous state, until, more dead than alive, we fell upon each other—a mingled mass of shivering flesh. "After half an hour's rest and a bowl of arrak, curaçoa and whisky punch, flavoured with many hot, invigorating spices, our mouths were again pressed together.

• From Best Erotica & Sexual Deviance Narratives Ever Written (2024)

  On this she asked me if I knew Polly Phillips? “Undoubterly,” says I, “the fair girl which was so tender of me when I was sick, and has been, as you told me, but two months in the house.” “The same,” says Phœbe. “You must know then, she is kept by a young Genoes merchant, whom his uncle, who is immensely rich, and whose darling he is, on a pretex of settling some accounts, but in reality to humour his inclinations for travelling, and seeing the world. He met casually with this Polly once in company, and taking a likning to her, makes it worth her while to keep entirely to him. He comes to her here twice or thrice a week, and she receives him in the light closet up one pair of stairs, where he enjoys her in a taste, I suppose, peculiar to the heat, or perhaps the caprices of his own country, I say no more, but to-morrow being his day, you shall see what passes between them, from a place only known to your mistress and myself.” You may be sure, in the ply I was now taking, I had no objection to the proposal, and was rather a tip-toe for its accomplishments. At five in the evening next day, Phœbe, punctual to her promise, came to me as I sat alone in my own room, and beckoned me to follow her. We went down the back stairs very softly, and opening the door of a dark closet, where there was some old furniture kept, and some cases of liquor, she drew me in after her, and fastened the door upon us, we had no light but what came through a long crevice in the partition between ours and the light closet, where the scene of action lay; so that sitting on those low cases, we could, with the greatest ease, as well as clearness, see all objects (ourselves unseen), only by applying our eyes close to the crevice, where the moulding of a panel had warped, or started a little on the other side. The young gentleman was the first person I saw, with his back directly towards me, looking at a print. Polly was not yet come: in less than a minute though, the door opened, and she came in; and at the noise the door made he turned about, and come to meet her, with an air of the greatest tenderness and satisfaction.

• From The Principles of Psychology (Volume 1 of 2) (1890)

  About fear I shall have more to say presently. Meanwhile the principle of revival in weakened form of reactions useful in more violent dealings with the object inspiring the emotion, has found many applications. So slight a symptom as the snarl or sneer, the one-sided uncovering of the upper teeth, is accounted for by Darwin as a survival from the time when our ancestors had large canines, and unfleshed them (as dogs now do) for attack. Similarly the raising of the eyebrows in outward attention, the opening of the mouth in astonishment, come, according to the same author, from the utility of these movements in extreme cases. The raising of the eyebrows goes with the opening of the eye for better vision; the opening of the mouth with the intensest listening, and with the rapid catching of the breath which precedes muscular effort. The distention of the nostrils in anger is interpreted by Spencer as an echo of the way in which our ancestors had to breathe when, during combat, their "mouth was filled up by a part of an antagonist's body that had been seized (!)." The trembling of fear is supposed by Mantegazza to be for the sake of warming the blood (!). The reddening of the face and neck is called by Wundt a compensatory arrangement for relieving the brain of the blood-pressure which the simultaneous excitement of the heart brings with it. The effusion of tears is explained both by this author and by Darwin to be a blood-withdrawing agency of a similar sort. The contraction of the muscles around the eyes, of which the primitive use is to protect those organs from being too much gorged with blood during the screaming fits of infancy, survives in adult life in the shape of the frown, which instantly comes over the brow when anything difficult or displeasing presents itself either to thought or action. "As the habit of contracting the brows has been followed by infants during innumerable generations, at the commencement of every crying or screaming fit," says Darwin, "it has become firmly associated with the incipient sense of something distressing or disagreeable. Hence, under similar circumstances, it would be apt to be continued during maturity, although never then developed, into a crying fit. Screaming or weeping begins to be voluntarily restrained at an early period of life, whereas frowning is hardly ever restrained at any age."[440]

• From Fields of Blood: Religion and the History of Violence (2014)

  [image file=image_rsrcDZB.jpg] Global JihadIn the early 1980s a steady stream of young men from the Arab world made their way to northwestern Pakistan, near the Afghan border, to join the jihad against the Soviet Union. The charismatic Jordanian-Palestinian scholar Abdullah Azzam had summoned Muslims to fight alongside their Afghan brothers.1 Like the “fighting scholars” who flocked to the frontiers during the classical period, Azzam was convinced that repelling the Soviet occupation was a duty for every able-bodied Muslim. “I believe that the Muslim ummah is responsible for the honor of every Muslim woman that is being violated in Afghanistan and is responsible for every drop of Muslim blood that is being shed unjustly,” he declared.2 Azzam’s sermons and lectures electrified a generation distressed by the suffering of their fellow Muslims, frustrated by an inability to help, and youthfully eager to do something about it. By 1984 recruits were arriving in ever-larger numbers from Saudi Arabia, the Gulf States, Yemen, Egypt, Algeria, Sudan, Indonesia, the Philippines, Malaysia, and Iraq.3 One of these volunteers was the scion of a great family fortune, Osama bin Laden, who became the main sponsor for the Services Bureau established in Peshawar to support his comrades, organize recruitment and funding, and provide health care, food, and shelter for Afghan orphans and refugees. President Ronald Reagan also spoke of the Afghan campaign as a holy war. In 1983, addressing the National Association of Evangelicals, he branded the Soviet Union an “evil empire.” “There is sin and evil in the world,” he told his highly receptive audience, “and we’re enjoined by Scripture and the Lord Jesus to oppose it with all our might.”4 It seemed entirely proper to Reagan and CIA director William Casey, a devout Catholic, to support Muslim mujahidin against atheistic Communists. The massive aid package of $600 million (annually renewed and matched each year by Saudi Arabia and the Gulf States) transformed the Afghan guerrilla forces into a military juggernaut that battled with the Russians as fiercely as their ancestors had fought the British in the nineteenth century. Some of the Afghan fighters had studied in Egypt and been influenced by Qutb and Maududi, but most were from rural societies, and their Sufi devotion to saints and shrines was wholly untouched by any hint of modern Islamic thought.

• From Fields of Blood: Religion and the History of Violence (2014)

  An entirely different polity, however, had emerged in the foothills of the Himalayas and on the edge of the Ganges plain: the gana-sanghas or “tribal republics” that rejected monarchy and were ruled by assemblies of clan chieftains. They may have been founded by independent-minded aristocrats, who were unhappy with the autocracy of the kingdoms and wanted to live in a more egalitarian community. The tribal republics rejected Vedic orthodoxy and had no interest in paying for expensive sacrifices; instead they invested in trade, agriculture, and warfare, and power was wielded not by a king but by a small ruling class.52 Because they had no priestly caste, there were only two classes: a Kshatriya aristocracy and the dasa-karmakaru, “slaves and laborers,” who had no rights or access to resources, although it was possible for enterprising merchants and artisans to achieve higher social status. With their large standing armies, the tribal republics were a significant challenge to the Aryan kingdoms and proved to be remarkably resilient, surviving well into the middle of the first millennium CE.53 Clearly their independence and at least nominal egalitarianism appealed to something fundamental in the Indian psyche. The kingdoms and sanghas were both still mainly reliant on agriculture, but the Ganges region was also experiencing a commercial revolution, which produced a merchant class and a money economy. Cities linked by new roads and canals—Savatthi, Saketa, Kosambi, Varanasi, Rajagaha, and Changa—were becoming centers of industry and business. This challenged the structural violence of the class system, since most of the nouveau riche merchants and bankers were vaishyas, and some were even shudras.54 A new class of “untouchables” (chandalas), who had been thrown off their land by the incoming Aryans, now took the place of these aspiring workers at the bottom of the social hierarchy.55 City life was exciting. The streets were crowded with brightly painted carriages and huge elephants carrying merchandise from distant lands. People of all classes and ethnicities mingled freely in the marketplace, and new ideas began to challenge the traditional Vedic system. The Brahmins, therefore, whose roots were in the countryside, began to seem irrelevant.56

• From Mud Vein (2014)

  I wish I could see his face. I want to see if he’s offended that I asked him to do something he hated giving up. Or maybe if he’s relieved to be asked. I just want to see his face. I do the strangest thing, then. I reach out and touch his face with my fingertips. His eyes close when I trace my way from his forehead, down over his eyes and around his lips. He’s serious. Always so serious. Dr. Isaac Asterholder. I want to meet the drummer, Isaac. He disappears for an hour. When he comes back his arms are stacked with things I can’t make out in the dark. I sit up straighter in bed and my mind hums with excitement. He works in front of the fire so that he won’t have to use the flashlight. I watch him unload what he’s brought up with him: two buckets, one smaller than the other, a metal skillet and a metal pot, duct tape, rubber bands, a pencil and two sticks. The sticks look smooth—like real drumsticks. I wonder if he’s been carving them secretly while he disappears downstairs every day. I wouldn’t blame him. I’ve been wanting to carve my skin for days. He is making things. I can’t tell what they are, but I hear the rip of the duct tape every few minutes. He swears a couple times. It’s a soundtrack: rriiiip … swear … bang … rriiiip … swear … bang. Finally, after what seems like hours, he stands up to examine his work. “Help me up,” I beg him. “Just this once so I can see.” He puts another log on the fire, and reluctantly comes over to my bed. I mouth, please, please, please, please. He picks me up before I can protest the help and carries me to what he made. I stare in wonder at his creation, my leg jutting in front of me awkwardly. He’s taped the larger bucket to a makeshift stand he’s made out of some logs. The smaller bucket sits upside down next to it. On the opposite side are the two pots—both faced down. “What’s that?” I ask, pointing to a mess of a thing on the floor. “That’s my pedal. I wrapped rubber around a pencil. I cut out the sole of one of my shoes for the actual pedal.” “Where did you get the rubber?” “From the fridge.” I nod. Genius. “That’s my snare.” He points to the smaller bucket. “And bass…” The larger one, turned on its side. “Can you stand me against the wall? I promise I won’t put weight on my cast.” He props me against the wall near to where his drum set sits. I lean back, thrilled to be out of bed and on my … foot. Isaac sits on the edge of the window seat. He leans down to test his pedal, then he plays.

• From Best Erotica & Sexual Deviance Narratives Ever Written (2024)

  My fingers too had now got within reach of the true, the genuine sensitive plant, which, instead of shrinking from the touch, joys to meet it, and swells and vegetates under it: mine pleasingly informed me that matters were so ripe for the discovery we meditated, that they were too mighty for the confinement they were ready to break. A waistband that I unskewered, and a rag of a shirt that I removed, and which could not have covered a quarter of it, revealed the whole of the idiot’s standard of distinction, erect, in full pride and display: but such a one! it was positively of so tremendous a size, that prepared as we were to see something extraordinary, it still, out of measure, surpassed our expectation, and astonished even me, who had not been used to trade in trifles. In fine, it might have answered very well the making a skew of; its enormous head seemed, in hue and size, not unlike a common sheep’s heart; then you might have trolled dice securely along the broad back of the body of it; the length of it too was prodigious; then the rich appendage of the treasure-bag beneath, large in proportion, gathered and crisped up round in shallow furrows, helped to fill the eye, and complete the proof of his being a natural, not quite in vain; since it was full manifest that he inherited, and largely too, the prerogative of majesty which distinguishes that otherwise most unfortunate condition, and gave rise to the vulgar saying “That a fool’s bauble is a lady’s playfellow.” Not wholly without reason: for, generally speaking, it is in love as it is in war, where the longest weapon carries it.

• From Going Clear (2013)

  Campbell characterized these instructions as “unshakeable post-hypnotic commands of tremendous force,” which governed much of his subsequent behavior. “The neighbor bratlings could tease me unmercifully—and did—because I couldn’t fight,” he told Heinlein; his mother would often attempt to console him by telling him that he would forget the painful experiences of his childhood soon enough, with the result that many of the most important moments of his life were lost to him. “Ron’s technique consists of bringing these old memories into view, and then erasing the memory,” Campbell explained. He writes that although he now doesn’t remember his actual birth, he does remember retrieving it and relating it to Hubbard, who then erased the real memory, with its painful associations, leaving Campbell with the experience of knowing what happened to him without actually having the memory continue its sinister influence. Obviously, the line between a real memory and an implanted one, or a confabulation, was very difficult to draw. This was the most potent medicine ever discovered, Campbell continued, but also the most dangerous weapon imaginable if not properly handled. “With the knowledge I now have, I could turn most ordinary people into homicidal maniacs within one hour.” And yet, as an editor, Campbell recognized the commercial possibilities: “This is the greatest story in the world—far bigger than the atomic bomb.” He added in a postscript that he had also lost twenty pounds in twenty-five days— another commercial bonanza. Campbell was beside himself because Hubbard had yet to actually start writing the book. “The key to world sanity is in Ron Hubbard’s head, and there isn’t even an adequate written record!” In December, Ron and Sara moved into what Hubbard termed “a little old shack” in Bayhead, New Jersey, with eight bedrooms, near the beach. In March 1950, he sent the Heinleins a handmade miniature book catalogue from “Hubbard House” publishers, proclaiming the spring collection: Announcing A New Hubbard Edition Completely New Material Not a revision Co-Authors—Ron & Sara Hubbard Release Date March 8, ’50—11:50 A.M. Weight—9 lbs. 2 oz . — Height—21 in. Alexis Valerie Has received rave notices from all reviewers! Alexis was the image of her father, who delighted in her pre- cociousness. “Ron is going at a little less than the speed of light all day and every day,” Sara wrote to the Heinleins, “then, in the middle of the night he goes in and tells Alexis all about it.” Ron promised to send Heinlein a galley of Dianetics as soon as it was available. He reported that it was 180,000 words, “begun Jan. 12, ’50, finished Feb.

• From Mud Vein (2014)

  I wish I could see his face. I want to see if he’s offended that I asked him to do something he hated giving up. Or maybe if he’s relieved to be asked. I just want to see his face. I do the strangest thing, then. I reach out and touch his face with my fingertips. His eyes close when I trace my way from his forehead, down over his eyes and around his lips. He’s serious. Always so serious. Dr. Isaac Asterholder. I want to meet the drummer, Isaac. He disappears for an hour. When he comes back his arms are stacked with things I can’t make out in the dark. I sit up straighter in bed and my mind hums with excitement. He works in front of the fire so that he won’t have to use the flashlight. I watch him unload what he’s brought up with him: two buckets, one smaller than the other, a metal skillet and a metal pot, duct tape, rubber bands, a pencil and two sticks. The sticks look smooth—like real drumsticks. I wonder if he’s been carving them secretly while he disappears downstairs every day. I wouldn’t blame him. I’ve been wanting to carve my skin for days. He is making things. I can’t tell what they are, but I hear the rip of the duct tape every few minutes. He swears a couple times. It’s a soundtrack: rriiiip … swear … bang … rriiiip … swear … bang. Finally, after what seems like hours, he stands up to examine his work. “Help me up,” I beg him. “Just this once so I can see.” He puts another log on the fire, and reluctantly comes over to my bed. I mouth, please, please, please, please. He picks me up before I can protest the help and carries me to what he made. I stare in wonder at his creation, my leg jutting in front of me awkwardly. He’s taped the larger bucket to a makeshift stand he’s made out of some logs. The smaller bucket sits upside down next to it. On the opposite side are the two pots—both faced down. “What’s that?” I ask, pointing to a mess of a thing on the floor. “That’s my pedal. I wrapped rubber around a pencil. I cut out the sole of one of my shoes for the actual pedal.” “Where did you get the rubber?” “From the fridge.” I nod. Genius. “That’s my snare.” He points to the smaller bucket. “And bass…” The larger one, turned on its side. “Can you stand me against the wall? I promise I won’t put weight on my cast.” He props me against the wall near to where his drum set sits. I lean back, thrilled to be out of bed and on my … foot. Isaac sits on the edge of the window seat. He leans down to test his pedal, then he plays.

• From Best Erotica & Sexual Deviance Narratives Ever Written (2024)

  "As he did so, our cheeks slightly grazed each other; and that touch—perhaps because it was so imperceptible—vibrated through all my body, giving all the nerves around the reins a not unpleasant twinge. Our mouths were now in close contact, and still he did not kiss me; his lips were simply tantalizing mine, as if to make me more keenly conscious of our nature's affinity. "The nervous state in which I had been these last days rendered me ever so much the more excitable. I therefore longed to feel that pleasure which cools the blood and calms the brain, but he seemed disposed to prolong my eagerness, and to make me reach that pitch of inebriating sensuality that verges upon madness. "At last, when neither of us could bear our excitement any longer, we tore off our clothes, and then naked we rolled, the one on the other, like two snakes, trying to feel as much of each other as we could. To me it seemed that all the pores of my skin were tiny mouths that pouted out to kiss him. "'Clasp me—grip me—hug me!—tighter—tighter still!—that I may enjoy your body!' "My rod, as tough as a piece of iron, slipped between his legs; and, feeling itself tweaked, began to water, and a few tiny, viscid drops oozed out. "Seeing the way in which I was tortured, he at last took pity upon me. He bent down his head upon my phallus, and began to kiss it. "I, however, did not wish to taste this delightful pleasure by halves, or to enjoy this thrilling rapture alone. We therefore shifted our position, and in a twinkling I had in my mouth the thing at which he was tweaking so delightfully. "Soon that acrid milk, like the sap of the fig tree or the euphorbia, which seems to flow from the brain and the marrow, spouted out, and in its stead a jet of caustic fire was coursing through every vein and artery, and all my nerves were vibrating as if set in motion by some strong electric current. "Finally, when the very last drop of spermatic fluid had been sucked out, then the paroxysm of pleasure which is the delirium of sensuality began to abate, and I was left crushed and annihilated; then a pleasant state of torpor followed, and my eyes closed for a few seconds in happy oblivion. "Having recovered my senses, my eyes again fell on the repulsive, anonymous note; and I shuddered and nestled myself against Teleny as if for protection, so loathsome was truth, even then, to me. "'But you have not told me yet who wrote those horrible words.' "'Who? Why, the general's son, of course.' "'What! Briancourt?'

• From Between Us

  121 ​“enthusiastic,” “interested,” “determined,” “excited,” and “inspired”: These are the highest loading “positive” items on the PANAS, one of the most commonly used scales (David Watson, Lee Anna Clark, and Auke Tellegen, “Development and Validation of Brief Measures of Positive and Negative Affect: The PANAS Scale,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 54, no. 6 [1988]: 1063–70). 121 ​make things go your way: Tsai et al., “Influence and Adjustment Goals: Sources of Cultural Differences in Ideal Affect.” See also mastery values, S. H. Schwartz and M. Ros, “Values in the West: A Theoretical and Empirical Challenge to the Individualism-Collectivism Cultural Dimension,” World Psychology 1, no. 2 (1995): 91–122. 122 ​“influencers” from very different cultures: Tsai et al., “Influence and Adjustment Goals: Sources of Cultural Differences in Ideal Affect,” 2007. After having been assigned to the role of influencer (or adjuster), participants asked to select either a calm or excited CD to help them with the task. Participants assigned to the role of influencer tended to chose the excited CD. Participants were white and Asian American college students and college students from Hong Kong; students from all groups were more likely to select the excited CD when in the role of influencer. 122 ​American mothers stimulate their babies: Tsai, “Ideal Affect: Cultural Causes and Behavioral Consequences,” 245. Characterization of children’s life in the U.S. is taken from Tsai, “Ideal Affect: Cultural Causes and Behavioral Consequences,” as well. 122 ​“explore and do exciting things”: All examples come from Tsai, “Ideal Affect: Cultural Causes and Behavioral Consequences.” Tsai’s research shows main cultural tendencies and their emotional correlates, but does not dictate that these tendencies are stable or all encompassing (e.g., calming herbal teas are widely available now). 122 ​Happiness . . . informs choice: Hazel Rose Markus and Barry Schwartz, “Does Choice Mean Freedom and Well-Being?,” Journal of Consumer Research 37, no. 2 (2010): 344–55. 122 ​happiness to describe an individual: Shigehiro Oishi et al., “Concepts of Happiness across Time and Cultures,” Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin 39, no. 5 (2013): 559–77. 123 ​more likely to choose to play basketball: Shigehiro Oishi and Ed Diener, “Culture and Well-Being: The Cycle of Action, Evaluation, and Decision,” Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin 29, no. 8 (2003): 939–49. For a similar finding with different tasks, see S. J. Heine et al., “Divergent Consequences of Success and Failure in Japan and North America: An Investigation of Self-Improving Motivations and Malleable Selves,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 81, no. 4 (2001): 599–615. 124 ​“For misery, happiness is leaning against it; for happiness, misery is hiding in it”: B. Wei, “Gu Wen Can Tong Qi Ji Jie (Y. Jiang, ed.). Changsha, China: Shang Wu Yin Shu Guan,” 1939, chap. 58., as cited in Ji, Nisbett, and Su, “Culture, Change, and Prediction.” 124 ​“perfect happiness . . . is not attainable in this life”: Oishi et al., “Concepts of Happiness across Time and Cultures,” 569.

• From Mud Vein (2014)

  Short stories, mostly depressing.” “Sounds like my kind of pleasure reading.” “Oh shut up. You’ll love them. He’s my favorite author.” “That’s a pretty bold statement coming from someone who has read so many different books.” “I can be a fairly bold person.” “I can see that,” I said, wondering why certain things she said gave me goose bumps—the good kind. “So you promise you’ll read it?” she asked as we neared the lunchroom. The sound of the students waiting in line was almost as offensive as the smell of fried food wafting through the halls. “I do. I’ll just have to hit up my local public library and find it. It’s probably covered in dust.” She jabbed me with her elbow. “I have two copies at the house. Come by after work sometime tonight and I’ll let you borrow one.” “Are you sure your husband won’t mind if I stopped by?” “He won’t be home.” And with that, she smiled and walked into the lunchroom.

• From The Erotic Mind (1995)

  After the sun went down the atmosphere became more sexual. Some people went inside, apparently to have sex in one of the many bedrooms. Rob and I joined the group in the hot tub. As we loosened up, people began massaging each other. One woman was sitting on the edge when another woman went down on her. I was so spellbound by that sight that I didn’t even realize that Rob was getting a hand job—until I heard his familiar groans. When I turned around his face told me he was about to come. He did and several people cheered. I was a little jealous but incredibly turned on. Over the next few hours, we put the lounge cushions on the deck around the tub so we had a choice of comfortable positions. I especially enjoyed being touched by Rob and a beautiful young woman at the same time. It was all so friendly and warm and fun—not at all like my idea of an orgy. Although he denies it, I think Rob was more jealous than I because he never mentions trying it again. Matthew and Ginny are among the relatively few members of The Group who describe group sex encounters as their most memorable. These encounters are fraught with potential problems and are much more difficult to arrange than the more common one-on-one variety. Typically one partner is more interested in a multiple-partner adventure, which can result in arguments. Once partners do agree on a three-way or group sex scene, somebody often feels left out or jealous. And what are the odds of three or more people having compatible sexual desires? All of these complications vanish, however, in the realm of the erotic imagination. FANTASY PARTNERSOne of the most striking differences between The Group’s favorite fantasies and their actual encounters is their partners. Fantasies involving multiple partners are the most popular of all among The Group as a whole. Just as they are the most likely to have multiple partners in real life, bisexuals are the most drawn to fantasies of multiple partners (60 percent of bisexual men and 75 percent of bisexual women). But more than a quarter of all women—even a third of the lesbians—say their favorite fantasies involve two or more partners. The same thing is true for 43 percent of the men. One finding may surprise you as it did me. Whereas almost one-fifth of gay men enjoy multiple sex in their memorable encounters, they are the least likely subgroup to include multiple partners in their favorite fantasies (only 11 percent). The best explanation I can offer is that virtually any gay man who wants to try group sex or a three-way can find opportunities to do so, particularly in urban areas. These activities were especially widespread in the freewheeling days before the AIDS epidemic. It appears that real-life experiences with multiple partners reduce their allure in fantasy.

• From The Erotic Mind (1995)

  Those who enjoy the naughtiness factor want and need the very rules and limits they get such a kick out of challenging—one more erotic paradox. Without boundaries to push against, there is no joy in naughtiness. If hookers roaming the streets were as meaningless to Judy as newspaper boys, they could no longer serve her as symbols of wanton lust. During the sexual revolution of the 1960s and 1970s, when many restrictions from the past were cast aside, it became increasingly difficult to feel naughty. Some of my clients during that period complained about having too much freedom. I’m convinced that the attempts of many individuals and groups to shore up traditional values during the 1980s and 1990s haven’t come simply from antisexual, moral, or political motivations. How many, do you suppose, want tighter restrictions on sex because they miss having strong prohibitions to push against? Could a desire for forbidden pleasure be an unconscious source for “antisexual” attitudes? Consider the following evidence. CATHOLICISM, SEXUAL ORIENTATION, AND THE NAUGHTINESS FACTORThe thrill of violating prohibitions is clearly evident in all segments of The Group, regardless of gender, sexual orientation, or religious affiliations. But whereas The Group as a whole mentions the naughtiness factor in 37 percent of their peak encounters, three subgroups are especially likely to do so: (1) 69 percent of those raised as Catholics, (2) 64 percent of lesbians, and (3) 41 percent of gay men. I believe the primary reason is their shared experience of growing up in sexually repressive environments. Those raised Catholic, even those who no longer think of themselves as members of the church, still exhibit a passionate involvement with the naughtiness factor—evidence that adult erotic patterns are launched early in our lives. It’s just as the erotic equation predicts: the more consistently disapproving messages surround us when we’re growing up, the greater our affinity for the forbidden will be when we’re adults. Most Catholic children are strongly discouraged from pursuing their natural sexual curiosity as kids. Nevertheless, most get the message that sexual expression will become at least acceptable in the eyes of God once they grow up and marry. In contrast, children who will become gay learn that the most fundamental feature of their eroticism—whom they’re attracted to—is and always will be totally unacceptable. To make matters worse, homophobic attitudes take root long before people know anything about their own sexual orientation. Once attitudes are internalized in this way, a conscious effort is required to change them. Coming out is so important to gays and lesbians because it begins the necessary shift in self-perception.

• From The Erotic Mind (1995)

  I saw two male lovers at a nude beach and enjoyed attracting their attention by getting a hard-on and letting them see it. Eventually one of them walked toward me at water’s edge. He had a thick, beautifully proportioned cock. Even when soft it swayed heavily and slapped from thigh to thigh as he walked. Soon after we greeted he invited me to hang out with them. All afternoon we joked and flirted. They were both extremely handsome. I was thrilled when they invited me to dinner. At their place we all took turns showering. When one of them was in the shower, the other would play with and suck my cock. They had been together five years and claimed this was their first three-way. Both turned out to be incredibly sexy. I could see into their bedroom from the kitchen as each dried off and stroked their hard dicks. After dinner one of them got down on his knees in front of me and said to his lover, “Look what I’ve got for you,” as he pulled down my shorts and began to suck me. By now the other one was feverishly jerking off. When we made it to the bedroom I was thrilled to watch them perform sixty-nine on each other—very hot. I ended up fucking one lover as I was fucked by the other. Both men were warm, gentle, with great senses of humor. One also sang beautifully. They obviously loved each other. Our three-way never became competitive or tense—not even for a moment. Both were eager to please me, and I them. I can’t imagine how it could have been better. Bisexual women are the most likely of all to report peak encounters with multiple partners (25 percent), and bisexual men run a close second (20 percent). Such encounters offer obvious advantages for bisexuals, as is apparent in this steamy tale of group sex at a hot tub party told by Ginny, a college instructor in her early forties: My boyfriend, Rob, had been coaxing me for a long time to attend one of those “swinging” parties where it’s considered okay to sample sex with different people. At first I was reluctant because I feared the scene would be much too sleazy for my tastes. Being a great salesman, Rob emphasized the fact that my previous lover was a woman and that I might enjoy watching both sexes getting it on. Eventually I agreed and much to my surprise it wasn’t seedy at all. The party was at a beautiful home with a large pool and hot tub. The people were intelligent and friendly. Other than the nude sunbathing it was no different than any other party. Rob was right, I certainly did enjoy gazing at the wonderful collection of bodies.

• From The Erotic Mind (1995)

  I often perform at bachelor parties and am excited all evening, like constant foreplay. I am very sensual and love it, although I understand the difference between sexual tit-illation and love and sex with my boyfriend. One evening I was uncontrollably turned on by a guy at a party (instead of my usual “tease” which has a certain distance to it). He was gorgeous, an arrogant, sexy, cold model—exactly the type I dislike, so egotistical and smug in his sexiness. But it was pure animal attraction and I felt a surge of energy. All night I came back to him and when I kissed him it was real and everyone in the place could see it. Later I loved it when he grabbed my hand and dragged me (no words spoken) into a storage room and watched—detached—as I went down on him. I was drawn to his icy ways, to his restrained aggression, and to his incredible physical beauty. After the party, he brought me home to his bed and denied me his cock, although I knew he wanted me. I felt extreme passion in the denial. He treated me coldly like the whore I wanted to be. He held my head down and spoke to me in the language of hot, hot lust. “I want your juicy cunt you nasty bitch,” he said with disdain. It was egotistical sex, two people flattering and demeaning each other. I was slave and master. When I got home very late and told my boyfriend I had “slipped,” he was so angry and completely disgusted he turned cold. It hurt to be treated that way but I was also incredibly excited when he ordered me to get down on my knees and said, “Did he like how you suck cock, too?” It was emotional S-M and much more exciting than actual physical bondage ever could be. I liked the freedom to experience the dark side of myself. To be a whore, just a body, fulfilling each other’s nastiest fantasies. I wanted to be hurt, denied, insulted and he wanted control. Judging by the intensity of her response, we can reasonably assume that Margo’s CET energizes these encounters. But what unseen needs make Margo enjoy a double dose of humiliation and mistreatment? Is this the price she must pay for being a sex-crazed erotic dancer? If so, she shows barely a trace of suffering. Instead the hostility of her cold and arrogant customer, and later the retaliatory anger of her boyfriend, both open the door to her shadow, apparently the home of her raw, animal lust.

• From How to Be a Great Lover (1999)

  AmbienceDon’t despair, you don’t have to be Michelangelo to come up with creative ideas to add sparks to your lovemaking. There is nothing more exhilarating than being creative about how to love. You and your partner must decide, based on your individual personal styles, what whets your appetites. The secret to your success is not to do what he would expect, but to step outside the box and go to a place you’ve never been before. Secret from Lou’s Archives TV is the biggest robber of intimacy because it draws your attention out of the room and away from the person you’re with. If you want to keep your partner’s attention available, try quieter activities, like reading or listening to music. A sensual environment is not limited to the bedroom and can be any environment where the two of you are inspired to engage in sexual activity. Candlelight, a roaring fire, fine champagne, and soft music are lovely touches, of course. But if that’s the only type of scene that inspires your libido, you may find yourself waiting an awfully long time between sexual encounters. Remember, unlike our male counterparts, the longer we women go without an orgasm, the longer we usually can go without one. And the more often we have them, the more often it seems we want them. While I haven’t seen this phenomenon documented scientifically, it’s no secret that the longer men go without a release, the more intense their need to have one becomes. Power of LightsMen are visual creatures and they will respond to visual cues. So ladies, don’t think you’re alone in believing that soft lighting is synonymous with romance. In the movies, rare is the love scene that doesn’t take place in front of the fire, surrounded by candlelight, in the glow of a sunset, under twinkling stars, or during the innocence of daybreak. Thanks to modern technology, the association between dim lights and love is deeply ingrained in the human psyche. But let’s be honest, the sensuous effects of firelight date as far back as the Stone Age. Hollywood simply knew a good thing when they heard about it and embellished on a concept that already worked. The most obvious benefit of soft lighting is the change in mood it automatically elicits. Our voices become lower, enticing us to move nearer to each other and requiring us to listen more carefully. These small details—gentle conversation, closer physical contact, and the willingness to hear what someone else is saying—are very important steps on the path to romance.

• From How to Be a Great Lover (1999)

  You must realize, assuming you’re both healthy and that you genuinely care for one another, sexual intensity (or lack thereof) is a personal choice. It’s not a condition. It can be created or recreated very quickly. The only prerequisites for a truly sensuous and fulfilling sex life for both of you are desire and a little inspiration. The following ideas were conceived and pulled off successfully by women in the seminar in order to stimulate the sexual flow of their relationships. I’m sharing them with you, hoping they might inspire your own creative juices. Remember, your sensual environment belongs to you and your partner. What works for another couple will not necessarily work for the two of you, nor should it. Yet sometimes, stepping outside those boundaries of the sexual box you’re accustomed to is exactly what it takes to reignite the flames of passion. For her husband’s thirty-fifth birthday, a housewife from a suburb outside of New York City decided to greet him with a little surprise when he’d returned home after being out of town on business for several days. When he entered the front door, he found a note waiting for him on the foyer table. It read, “Happy Birthday Darling, Follow Directions Explicitly: turn up the heat to 85; totally disrobe; put on the David Sanborn CD; and sit in the Eames chair [which was covered with a towel]; blindfold yourself, and don’t say a word. When you are ready, clap your hands.” At which point, the woman came into the room and proceeded to massage him with warm oil and feed him olives, grapes, and apricots. Then she did a hot/cold shift with her mouth (see Chapter 7) while performing oral sex. “My husband told me it was the most amazing sensation experience he’d ever experienced. And it totally revved up our sex life.” Another woman, in her mid-forties and from Los Angeles, recounted this story: “I had been taking a class in signing for the deaf, so my husband had been used to me being gone every Tuesday and Thursday evening. So the night of The Sexuality Seminar I told him a white lie and said I had a special study class for signing. The next morning, I called him and confessed that I really hadn’t been at my regular class the night before, but I’d gone to The Sexuality Seminar instead. At first he didn’t believe me. Then I said ‘Meet me at home, be nude, and I’ll prove it to you.’ ” He did and she told me that it was one of the best afternoons of lovemaking they’d had since they’d gotten married.

• From How to Be a Great Lover (1999)

  The SwirlAlong with kissing, The Swirl is an outstanding way to rev up your man’s engine. The idea was a result of a man who said, “Most men are only aware of a thin column down their bodies—we think, eat, feel, have sex, etc., but we ignore the other areas of our bodies. Like the arms and our backs. Let women know we are dying to have them woken up—we just ignore them.” Your partner will typically touch you the way he likes to be touched. For most men that tends to be a firm, direct touch to action spots. Women tend to touch more lightly and more tentatively. This makes sense as men’s skin is thicker and denser than ours. To see how this feels try it on your own leg first—you’ll need your leg as you’ll be using both hands so your arm won’t work. Step A: On the bare skin of your thigh, lightly scratch, using your nails, from your knee to your pubic hair in a straight line. Adjust pressure to your preference. Step B: Now, scratching over the same area, use a large wavy motion—be sure they are generous waves. In step A, what you’ll likely feel (as will he) are the little nerves saying, “Oh, goodie, I’m next.” In step B, your nerves will be saying, “Oh, my God, I hope I’m next.” This can be done on any area of his body; legs, arms, head, neck—you choose. And, of course, lightly on his genitals. The best part is it can be done in public, obviously in a reserved form, with others being none the wiser. Secret from Lou’s Archives When French or soul kissing, be careful to avoid two things: I) sucking too hard on his tongue; 2) making your tongue too pointy. Apparently it feels like kissing Woody Woodpecker. Types of Kisses• THE FRENCH KISS (OR SOUL KISSING). Although tongue kissing is known in many cultures, the naming of this activity as a French Kiss is apparently from the British and Americans who attributed anything sexually liberated to the French. This is by far the most widely known kind of kiss. A good French kiss can last for hours. Indeed, I know of a contest in which a couple kissed for a straight twenty-four hours! Here, rhythm is everything. You need to alternate the rhythm, suck on his tongue, and move your tongue around. • THE ESKIMO KISS. This is really an olfactory kiss, preferable to other types of kisses in certain cultures. In an Eskimo kiss you rub cheek to cheek, or nose to nose, taking in each other's scent. • THE EYELASH KISS (BUTTERFLY KISS). This one's a very popular parent-to-child kiss. Your eyelashes are fluttered rapidly on the chosen body part—cheeks, lips, nipples. But one woman has remarked, “I love to catch my eyelashes on his chest hair.”

• From Best Erotica & Sexual Deviance Narratives Ever Written (2024)

  "As it did so, I could hardly keep quiet. I clasped within my hands his curly and scented head; a shiver ran through my whole body; all my nerves were on edge; the sensation was so keen that it almost maddened me. "Then the whole column was in his mouth, the tip was touching his palate; his tongue, flattened or thickened, tickling me everywhere. Now I was sucked greedily, then nibbled or bitten. I screamed, I called on him to stop. I could not bear such intensity any longer; it was killing me. If it had lasted but a trice longer I should have lost my senses. He was deaf and ruthless to my entreaties. Flashes of lightning seemed to be passing before my eyes; a torrent of fire was coursing through my body. "'Enough—stop, enough!' I groaned. "My nerves were extended; a thrill came over me; the soles of my feet seemed to have been drilled through. I writhed; I was convulsed. "One of his hands which had been caressing my testicles slipped under my bum—a finger was slipped in the hole. I seemed to be a man in front, a woman behind, for the pleasure I felt either way. "My trepidation had reached its climax. My brain reeled; my body melted; the burning milk of life was again mounting up, like a sap of fire; my bubbling blood mounted up to my brain, maddening me. I was exhausted; I fainted with pleasure: I fell upon him—a lifeless mass! "In a few minutes I was myself again—eager to take his place, and to return him the caresses I had just received. "I tore the clothes from his body, so that he was speedily as naked as I was. What a pleasure it was to feel his skin against mine from head to foot! Moreover, the delight I had just felt had only increased my eagerness, so that, after clasping each other and wrestling together for a few moments, we both rolled on the floor, twisting, and rubbing, and crawling, and writhing, like two heated cats exciting each other into a paroxysm of rage. "But my lips were eager to taste his phallus—an organ which might have served as a model for the huge idol in the temple of Priapus, or over the doors of the Pompeian brothels, only that at the sight of this wingless god most men would have—as many did—discarded women for the love of their fellow-men. It was big without having the proportion of an ass's; it was thick and rounded, though slightly tapering; the glans—a fruit of flesh and blood, like a small apricot—looked pulpy, round and appetizing.