Blog Dis
What turns your crank?
2024-02-22
The sculptured calves of cycling legs as they whiz by me at breakneck speeds... the soft underside of a muscled thigh as he turns over in front of me... the plush texture of full lips, glistening with the moisture from my long, wet kiss... the texture of a tongue dragging itself sensuously across my skin...
What turns your crank?
Lust is a subject that is true to my heart, as it is no doubt yours. Heck, you wouldn't be here on this planet called Earth were it not for the lust shared between your birth parents, assuming that you're not a test-tube baby. Allow me to re-state the point of this post: lust is important, and I know this to be bona-fide and true based on how much lust had inspired my first two novels. Admittedly, however, I don't have the market cornered on lust, despite have chosen this particular variety of prose for my first two novels, to get the juices flowing. We become turned on and off at odd intervals, sometimes by our own doing and at other times as the result of someone's actions. Stimulation comes in many forms: visually, auditory and the old staple of smell and taste. What a glorious world it is, teaming with a bevy of men and women, young and evolved and who themselves are manufacturers of lust, even if unaware. Men lusting for women or other men, or women lusting for men or other women, is as old as the first cave dwellers having realized that when someone bends over, the ideal moment for potential gratification is presenting itself.
For me, hands down it's dirty words. There is nothing like being turned on by a man who wields words with the power of King Arthur and his magical sword; be it the written word or by mouth. And speaking of the mouth, dirty talk is a rare art form. I've made this claim in my novels, or at least one of my female characters has made this comment. In my experience, the majority of men are embarrassed to talk dirty, and this is natural and honest. Dirty talk isn't a skill that should flow automatically because it requires practice to get really good, to know how to talk just the right way. I think many are unsure of what to say, much less how to say it or they fear being laughed at, or breaking up laughing themselves, or they're worried about rousing anger. Not so, my sensitive ones. I'm referring to the real dirty talk, the kind that degrades my pure lust into an objectified, quivering ball of flesh. Call me the worst names in the book while you do things to my body and I'll respond, wanting more, more, more! In the here and now, regrettably, I won't repeat these crude, rude and lovely words because X is a public space, and some are exceedingly sensitive.
Best advice I can give, when it comes to teaching someone how to talk dirty, is not to describe what you're going to do to their body, rather include them in the story; describe what they're doing to you (because you know better than anyone what turns you on). When the object of your lust is woven into your word-play they'll feel more titillated. Get consent in advance and also ask which words tweak them the wrong way, to give you a sense of how far you can take it, or when you need to scale it back, and build momentum with erotic words, as opposed to the dirty-dog, on all fours words.
A long dead great lady by the name of Mae West said it best, "When women go wrong, men go after them." She also said, "I used to be snow white, until I drifted." I can never get these expressions out of my head. Her witticisms truthfully paint a picture of the powerful effect men and women have on one another. Perhaps too it is no coincidence that Pope Gregory the II had formulated his Ten Deadly Sins, including in the prestigious list the all important element of lust. At first, Pope Gregory didn't want to add lust with the other sins of Greed, Gluttony, Wrath, Envy, Sloth and Pride. But he obviously realized that lust is the reason behind the fall from grace for many a devout Catholic. Clearly, humans like being turned on.
Lust is a cool player, often hiding. Lust starts innocently. First, there's the glance. Then there's the smile. A twinkle in the eye flashes back at the looker. Chest is thrust out. Stomach is pulled in and a twinge is felt in the loins. The heart begins to thump, thump and the brain kick-starts into action by producing hormones that befuddle the most logical brain. Maybe you don't know exactly what turns you on, if someone were to ask you. But I'm willing to bet that before you had reached puberty, you showed signs of gravitating toward a certain type. I, myself, like men with dark hair, though I've lusted for blondes and redheads too, and those without one single hair on their head. I don't care about ethnicity, which is irrelevant, so long as he's honest and true and earnest. I don't get turned on by a perfect body as my body isn't perfect either, but neither will I shy away from ogling eye-candy online. I call it appreciating. But if the He in question is able to speak the right words to me, if they roll off his tongue like a hot knife cutting through butter, oh my lawd! I feel helpless to stop myself and my turned-on button seems to be permanently depressed.
Tell me the truth, you lustful, horn-doggie... what turns your crank? I'd love to hear your version. I'm always on the look out for new and interesting ideas and, if I like yours, I might be inspired to incorporate your idea in a future story, in which case you can guarantee that I'll give credit to your name.
Mae West, "When I'm bad, I'm better."
What turns your crank?
Lust is a subject that is true to my heart, as it is no doubt yours. Heck, you wouldn't be here on this planet called Earth were it not for the lust shared between your birth parents, assuming that you're not a test-tube baby. Allow me to re-state the point of this post: lust is important, and I know this to be bona-fide and true based on how much lust had inspired my first two novels. Admittedly, however, I don't have the market cornered on lust, despite have chosen this particular variety of prose for my first two novels, to get the juices flowing. We become turned on and off at odd intervals, sometimes by our own doing and at other times as the result of someone's actions. Stimulation comes in many forms: visually, auditory and the old staple of smell and taste. What a glorious world it is, teaming with a bevy of men and women, young and evolved and who themselves are manufacturers of lust, even if unaware. Men lusting for women or other men, or women lusting for men or other women, is as old as the first cave dwellers having realized that when someone bends over, the ideal moment for potential gratification is presenting itself.
For me, hands down it's dirty words. There is nothing like being turned on by a man who wields words with the power of King Arthur and his magical sword; be it the written word or by mouth. And speaking of the mouth, dirty talk is a rare art form. I've made this claim in my novels, or at least one of my female characters has made this comment. In my experience, the majority of men are embarrassed to talk dirty, and this is natural and honest. Dirty talk isn't a skill that should flow automatically because it requires practice to get really good, to know how to talk just the right way. I think many are unsure of what to say, much less how to say it or they fear being laughed at, or breaking up laughing themselves, or they're worried about rousing anger. Not so, my sensitive ones. I'm referring to the real dirty talk, the kind that degrades my pure lust into an objectified, quivering ball of flesh. Call me the worst names in the book while you do things to my body and I'll respond, wanting more, more, more! In the here and now, regrettably, I won't repeat these crude, rude and lovely words because X is a public space, and some are exceedingly sensitive.
Best advice I can give, when it comes to teaching someone how to talk dirty, is not to describe what you're going to do to their body, rather include them in the story; describe what they're doing to you (because you know better than anyone what turns you on). When the object of your lust is woven into your word-play they'll feel more titillated. Get consent in advance and also ask which words tweak them the wrong way, to give you a sense of how far you can take it, or when you need to scale it back, and build momentum with erotic words, as opposed to the dirty-dog, on all fours words.
A long dead great lady by the name of Mae West said it best, "When women go wrong, men go after them." She also said, "I used to be snow white, until I drifted." I can never get these expressions out of my head. Her witticisms truthfully paint a picture of the powerful effect men and women have on one another. Perhaps too it is no coincidence that Pope Gregory the II had formulated his Ten Deadly Sins, including in the prestigious list the all important element of lust. At first, Pope Gregory didn't want to add lust with the other sins of Greed, Gluttony, Wrath, Envy, Sloth and Pride. But he obviously realized that lust is the reason behind the fall from grace for many a devout Catholic. Clearly, humans like being turned on.
Lust is a cool player, often hiding. Lust starts innocently. First, there's the glance. Then there's the smile. A twinkle in the eye flashes back at the looker. Chest is thrust out. Stomach is pulled in and a twinge is felt in the loins. The heart begins to thump, thump and the brain kick-starts into action by producing hormones that befuddle the most logical brain. Maybe you don't know exactly what turns you on, if someone were to ask you. But I'm willing to bet that before you had reached puberty, you showed signs of gravitating toward a certain type. I, myself, like men with dark hair, though I've lusted for blondes and redheads too, and those without one single hair on their head. I don't care about ethnicity, which is irrelevant, so long as he's honest and true and earnest. I don't get turned on by a perfect body as my body isn't perfect either, but neither will I shy away from ogling eye-candy online. I call it appreciating. But if the He in question is able to speak the right words to me, if they roll off his tongue like a hot knife cutting through butter, oh my lawd! I feel helpless to stop myself and my turned-on button seems to be permanently depressed.
Tell me the truth, you lustful, horn-doggie... what turns your crank? I'd love to hear your version. I'm always on the look out for new and interesting ideas and, if I like yours, I might be inspired to incorporate your idea in a future story, in which case you can guarantee that I'll give credit to your name.
Mae West, "When I'm bad, I'm better."
