Blog Dis
Summer is for lust
2025-07-15
Lust is one of my all-time favourite subjects. I wrote six urban paranormal novels featuring a solitary vampire, which some readers call vampire erotica. So, it's almost a natural instinct for me to gravitate to this wonderful human emotion, more so given that we are currently knee-deep in summer, when lust is all around, or rather strolling around town, wearing barely-there clothing.
Lust is the fuel for life, without which none of us would be here. The Scottish comedian, Billy Connolly, had rightly pointed out in one of his stand-up routines that no one is an unwanted child, and by this he meant that in the heat of the moment, between consenting adults, shared lust was welcomed. Getting pregnant as a result of lust is the bonus or the dread, depending on your perspective. 😆I was lucky to see Connolly perform in Ottawa, the two times that he came to my fair city. Connolly's point is well taken. At that very moment of thrust and conception, bet your bloody bottom dollar that Mr. Penis very much wanted to be inside Ms. Vagina, who happily accepted her champion, urging him to go deeper. Yes! Yes! Yes!
Lust is everywhere. Stand at any busy red light and watch. You'll view male drivers as their wandering eyes and necks crane to unbelievable positions, ogling scantily clad girls, dressed in summer tops and short skirts. Regardless of being married or involved, lustful eyes are an unstoppable force. We're all guilty of being, to a degree, preprogrammed to devour first and foremost with our eyes. And many devout religious persons would attest the first fall from grace begins with only a look.
To be sure, there are other forms of lust, such as the insatiable need for food, drink and good times. There is lust for reading, something I lay claim to because I can't seem to stop wanting to satisfy my lust for more reading material. I typically have multiple books on the go and the pile beside my reading table welcomes more books. Whenever I complete loads of laundry, there are typically discarded books in the corner, on a table of stacked books, following the departure of tenants moving out of my building. I say thank you! Your books are needed! Give me more! I lust for more!
And this leads me to wonder if a book about lust would inspire more lust? When you visit bookstores — yes; they still exist as do Independent bookstores — you may have to go looking for it but there is generally a section devoted to all things erotica, tucked away on the last shelves, way at the back of the store, because why? I often wonder if they are concerned that people browsing these erotica books would be embarrassed if someone saw them reading a book on erotica in the erotica section. Heaven forbid.
Lust is a never-ending well, as deep as the ocean is blue and as high as the clouds hang in the sky. Drop your penny into the well and you might have to wait a very long long time before you hear that kerplunk when it hits bottom. Lust never sleeps, even in dreams. Lust is part of you. Lust compels you to do the absolutely wonky things you do. Should you encounter one of those most unfortunate happenings, such as when you return home to find your partner's legs up high in the air, spread-eagle, you need not look any farther than lust. Pour yourself a glass of wine and calm yourself. After consuming a few glasses, you'll be able to look in the mirror and know the blame should rightly be laid at the feet of lust.
But lust betrays because lust is destined to fade, just like love. I, too, have succumbed to lust, more often than not, and it was only when I arrived at that point in my life when I finally figured out that 'like' is infinitely more important than lust. There may be much to lust about someone. However, the long-term affects of lust will surely wear itself out, and you'll be left with the simple reality of how much do I like this person. Do you like how they speak to you? Do you like how they listen to you? Do you like how they treat you, how they kiss you, how they inspire you? I am intrusive at times, this I'll freely admit. I've asked couples who've been together for a very long time, do you like how he goes down on you? [To repeat: I'm very much aware that it's an intrusive question]. And when my friend returns my question with an expression of eyes-wide, shocked and somewhat offended, I gently remind them that like is the stepping stone that leads to lust.
Anything after that first step, from like to lust, or for some from lust to love, is up for grabs. Our bodies, mind and spirit have to start somewhere.
Lust is the fuel for life, without which none of us would be here. The Scottish comedian, Billy Connolly, had rightly pointed out in one of his stand-up routines that no one is an unwanted child, and by this he meant that in the heat of the moment, between consenting adults, shared lust was welcomed. Getting pregnant as a result of lust is the bonus or the dread, depending on your perspective. 😆I was lucky to see Connolly perform in Ottawa, the two times that he came to my fair city. Connolly's point is well taken. At that very moment of thrust and conception, bet your bloody bottom dollar that Mr. Penis very much wanted to be inside Ms. Vagina, who happily accepted her champion, urging him to go deeper. Yes! Yes! Yes!
Lust is everywhere. Stand at any busy red light and watch. You'll view male drivers as their wandering eyes and necks crane to unbelievable positions, ogling scantily clad girls, dressed in summer tops and short skirts. Regardless of being married or involved, lustful eyes are an unstoppable force. We're all guilty of being, to a degree, preprogrammed to devour first and foremost with our eyes. And many devout religious persons would attest the first fall from grace begins with only a look.
To be sure, there are other forms of lust, such as the insatiable need for food, drink and good times. There is lust for reading, something I lay claim to because I can't seem to stop wanting to satisfy my lust for more reading material. I typically have multiple books on the go and the pile beside my reading table welcomes more books. Whenever I complete loads of laundry, there are typically discarded books in the corner, on a table of stacked books, following the departure of tenants moving out of my building. I say thank you! Your books are needed! Give me more! I lust for more!
And this leads me to wonder if a book about lust would inspire more lust? When you visit bookstores — yes; they still exist as do Independent bookstores — you may have to go looking for it but there is generally a section devoted to all things erotica, tucked away on the last shelves, way at the back of the store, because why? I often wonder if they are concerned that people browsing these erotica books would be embarrassed if someone saw them reading a book on erotica in the erotica section. Heaven forbid.
Lust is a never-ending well, as deep as the ocean is blue and as high as the clouds hang in the sky. Drop your penny into the well and you might have to wait a very long long time before you hear that kerplunk when it hits bottom. Lust never sleeps, even in dreams. Lust is part of you. Lust compels you to do the absolutely wonky things you do. Should you encounter one of those most unfortunate happenings, such as when you return home to find your partner's legs up high in the air, spread-eagle, you need not look any farther than lust. Pour yourself a glass of wine and calm yourself. After consuming a few glasses, you'll be able to look in the mirror and know the blame should rightly be laid at the feet of lust.
But lust betrays because lust is destined to fade, just like love. I, too, have succumbed to lust, more often than not, and it was only when I arrived at that point in my life when I finally figured out that 'like' is infinitely more important than lust. There may be much to lust about someone. However, the long-term affects of lust will surely wear itself out, and you'll be left with the simple reality of how much do I like this person. Do you like how they speak to you? Do you like how they listen to you? Do you like how they treat you, how they kiss you, how they inspire you? I am intrusive at times, this I'll freely admit. I've asked couples who've been together for a very long time, do you like how he goes down on you? [To repeat: I'm very much aware that it's an intrusive question]. And when my friend returns my question with an expression of eyes-wide, shocked and somewhat offended, I gently remind them that like is the stepping stone that leads to lust.
Anything after that first step, from like to lust, or for some from lust to love, is up for grabs. Our bodies, mind and spirit have to start somewhere.
