2 comments/ 10075 views/ 1 favorites What Is It By: sammy 2006 Some of the most erotic things in life are not when you are naked, I love the fact that the flash of a stocking top through a split in a skirt, or a glance that a girl makes to a guy that you should not see, is more erotic than seeing a girl naked on TV. That an Erotic kiss that leaves you in a heightened state can be more erotic than so many things. Rodin's sculpture has inspired a modern day look at "The kiss" my aim is to mentally give you the horn not physically, so get your hand out of your pants, back up a little way from the screen, relax and read!!!! Engorge your mind not your body!!! Please enjoy - feedback is always appreciated and please, please, vote even if it's bad! It's Just A Kiss You don't notice her in the shadows, as you pass close she catches your hand. She half turns you and places her hand on your stomach, a soft touch, a delicate touch, she runs her hand up your blue shirt, slowly over the buttons at the front to your collar. She plays with the corner of your collar. "I've seen you here before!" she says "Who are you?" "There's no need for you to know who, just the need...........To kiss you." "Why should I let you kiss me?" "Because you know that now I've said I need to kiss you, If we didn't, you would wonder for the rest of your life 'what if' we had, so now you are going to be kissed, I'm taking the decision off you, I'm forcing you to, not physically, but mentally. There's just no other option but regret. You never know what's around the corner. "The woman you love will never kiss you as freely as this, she has all the other things spinning around in her head. On her first date she's worried about whether your going to like her enough for a second date, whether she will say the right things to keep you interested, being careful not to be too forward, and careful not to be too reserved. On the second she is worried about what may happen on the third, she will never kiss you as freely as I can, because I don't have that to worry about. After that she's worried about how tidy the house is and whether the kids get to school on time. Me I have no worries, there won't even be a first date. I just want to kiss you - no more, no less. That's where the irony is it will be the best kiss ever because there are no ties, but it will be so good you will always hope there were." She pulled his collar and he moved towards her, she looked up coyly, he didn't recognise her it was too dark to get all the features, and her little speech was virtually through the front of her hair. As he looked down at her it was as though her face were crawling up his chest, so close he could feel her breath through his shirt, then as her hair reached his mouth at the last second her head tilted back and he saw the flash of her blue eyes, steely coloured, piercing the back of his burning an image in his mind that would never leave him. Just her eyes. Her eyes levelled with his as she stared into them, she was making sure he had an image of hers imprinted on him for life. Her true shyness then showed and gave away that she was not as confident as she seemed, her eyes looked down like a shy girl who was overstepping her own boundary, she knew she could play that well, in reality it was how she felt. Her arm slid around his neck, her fingers splayed on his nape, as though she had the strength to force him to kiss her, though her touch was as gentle as could be. He got the idea and brought his head forward, she held him with her look into his eyes, making him again take mental note of the moment before the kiss, she teased almost tormented him by sliding her cheek against his bringing her lips to within kissing distance of his ear. "Your life is about to change, in the next 30 seconds, relax and enjoy" She slid her cheek back against his, as she looked at him her eyes closed as though she were fainting, their lips were almost touching, she felt his breathing on her moist lips his anticipation and breathing had dried his a little, as there lips first met in the gentlest of touches her moistness and his dryness made them stick a little - the first contact being the briefest of touches but revealing so much to each other, the dryness of his brief anticipation, his 'still stunned to be being kissed' stiffness in his lips, hers moist and relaxed, soft and inviting, prepared, ready for more, but only just touching him. She moved back a little, just to move her nose the other side of his and kiss, giving him a moment to take in the first contact. She took the opportunity to open her eyes, his were closed tight he wanted it, she had her man, she leant back in and kissed him firmly, not forceful, but firm enough to display her intentions, closed lipped he was taken a back mentally and physically by the latent passion of their contact, bursting to get out. She opened her lips and he anticipated the touch of a tongue. The soft, delicate, gently, moist, all revealing touch of a tongue, a symbol of being more than just a friend, something personal, from inside a body, being revealed and exposed to the exploration of another body. Kissing anywhere else on a woman warranted a standard reaction, a moan here, a giggle there, but a tongue is interaction, not standard, and very individual, he swore he could feel it, but not yet, then there it was, she was dancing little touches with the tip of her tongue along the tip of his, the warmth of her doing it spread through his body. He reacted by pulling her nearer with his arm around her waist, as he did she arced and twisted her back. The kiss was all that counted, his arms, her arms, would go through natural movements of caressing and rubbing and squeezing - but all only to make the connection of lips more involving. As their tongues gently danced with one another the sensation of lips on lips brought about the well-practiced breathing techniques, the balance of a push forward from one set of lips forcing the other back in position. He accepted his fate, and sat on a small wall and accepted that he was being kissed. She half sat on him, put an arm around his neck and launched into the most passionate of full French kisses leaning sideways into him, slightly submissive, though they both knew she had chosen to be submissive for a few moments. She kissed up to him forcing her lips to mould around his, the small opening allowing their tongues to flicker against each other like candle flames, their movements almost 'balletique'. She paused for a brief second and pulled away a little, she kissed the corners of his lips, the left then the right, kissed his top lip, and then the bottom, his mouth hung slightly open as she did, not ugly open, but 'so involved in an erotic kiss he couldn't believe' kind of open. Drinking in the sensation he was almost frozen like that, he could see her kiss him, feel her kiss his lips, but could not explain the true feeling in side. The feeling of freedom that, this girl for some reason chose to kiss him, give him a brief escape from everything and just gain a kiss from her, no attachment, no other motive, no long term plan. She planted little kisses around his mouth then pulled back, licked soft and gently around her lips as though catching as much of his taste from her lips as she could and swallowing it in. she looked him in the eye before moving forward, closing her eyes and kissing him again. She was more forceful this time pushing her lips harder against his, letting him know he was being properly, passionately, kissed. As she forced her lips on him she breathed through her nose with the force of a well practiced woman wanting to be kissed back, she opened her mouth and darted her tongue against his, he felt its irregular stabling motions just touching the tip at first, then, a relaxing tongue twisting into his and sharing its warmth, if it had been visual it would have been as though they were sea horses wrapped around each other in the dance of reproduction. His mind was numbing to the sensations they were so great, each one came like a wave, higher, stronger and washing further over him, the freedom of what he was doing, and the sensation on his tongue was like never before felt, no analysis, no guilt just a kiss, he started to respond and pushed back a little. She gave in and moved back a little, but she wanted control, as he responded and kissed firmer became more forceful with his tongue, she moved backwards away from him, he expected her to push back against him instead she moved away. She opened her eyes and after a brief moment of him waiting for her to kiss back he opened his, she gave him a steely glare. "That was as much for my satisfaction as yours, remember from now on, every wife is still a woman, every woman is a girl, and every girl wants to be kissed. Kissed so her breath is taken away, so her body tingles, so she knows the guy wanted to kiss her." With that she walked away. He sat for a moment. He had questions. Doesn't a guy always have questions? But his mouth was still tingling from the kiss. He looked up. "What's your name?" Too late she had disappeared. What is Literotica? Literotica: is it just a fancy name for a porn site or is there a greater depth to the name? If you happen to stumble across the forums attached to this site (did you even know there were forums?), you might see someone promote the concept that this site is above "mere porn" and even above plain erotica -- there is meant to be a literary component to it, why else would the site be called "Literotica"? Did the owners of the site mean to set a line in the sand with their name? Did they intend to set a bar of literary standard or were they simply alluding to the fact that the site is designed as a place for written porn/erotica, as opposed to the myriad sites dedicated to visual porn? If you wander through the category listings, it shouldn't take long to make up your mind on that one. I'm not saying there's not some damned fine writing hiding out there. There most certainly is, but that's definitely only a small proportion of the writing here. The vast majority of the hundreds of thousands of stories, the millions of words posted to this site, are not going to turn up any time soon on the curriculum of an English Literature course. Nor would their writers expect them to. They have been written for pure carnal pleasure, nothing more, nothing less. They are the much down valued "stroke" stories and yet they make up large swaths of the most popular categories. Readers flock to these tales, with all their clunky sentence construction, improbable scenarios and total lack of coherent plot. Do the readers care that the writing isn't beautiful, that the word choice isn't pristine? Of course they don't. As long as the sex is there, and the story is understandable that's all they're looking for -- they're not after high art, they're looking for masturbatory aids. Is there any other reason to read this stuff? Does anyone really come here looking for literature? I suppose a few might, but to most it would be a bonus rather than an aim. This brings us to the subject of "erotica" as somewhat higher form of art than "porn". There are some here who claim not to write porn at all. That sex is not the point of the story, it is incidental to it and this distinction marks their work as "erotica". I'm not so sure about that. If the aim is other than erotic, how can the story be considered "erotica"? A detective story is a detective story, regardless of whether he beds the damsel in distress or not. No, I don't believe a tale is erotica because it has a sex scene. I've seen stories here that seem to have the mandatory sex scene thrown in so it will pass muster to go in a category other than "Non-Erotic". Haven't you seen them? The story is bubbling along very nicely, and suddenly there's a change. The two main characters suddenly decide to jump each other's bones. The act does nothing to move the story along; in fact, it interrupts the flow and can be skipped over without any loss to the storyline. If the sex is incidental, it's not erotica. That's my belief anyway. A story must revolve around the sexual to be erotica, the sex, or sexual tension, between characters must be a pivotal part of the story. So what is the difference between "porn" and "erotica"? For me, it comes down to style of story. The submissions here that some critics call "vignettes" that are purely sex scenes with little or no introduction before the act -- these are porn. Sometimes we don't even know the names of the participants. It isn't important to know who they are; the act is all. The implausibly plotted are usually porn as well. You know what I mean -- the boss suddenly calls the well stacked secretary into his office, closes the door and has his way with her on the desk; dad looks at his daughter and suddenly realises she's a woman and damn he'd like a bit of that; the strangers that meet in a supermarket and get straight to it in the middle of the fruit and veg section. These are all porn. Erotica requires a plot, a plausible plot. It requires character development and, more than anything, it requires a reason for these people to get together. And the sex, when they get down to it, has to have meaning and purpose. Erotica, in my opinion, doesn't need a fully-fledged sex act to be erotic. Well-written erotica can be about the chase, without there ever being a consummation on the page. I can't do it. My writing skills aren't good enough, but I've seen it done. Some of the sexiest, most arousing copy I've read has been written about fully clothed people in mundane daily situations -- not a cock, pussy or wet anything in sight. All of these styles of writing have a place in Literotica. They're all here. They all have readers and fans. It is not "merely" a porn site; nor is it a literature site. It is a site for all forms of sexy writing to get together, rub shoulders (and other more interesting places) and jostle for readership. And that's the beauty of it. What turns me on won't turn you on and what you find arousing I might find either really boring or almost offensive. But we can all find a story to our liking, and our kink, if we look hard enough, hidden in this great library called Literotica. The only problem is remembering to bookmark that last great read. Now, if you'd excuse me, there's a story about a man and this girl, see, and they meet at a library (or was it the Laundromat?). Anyway, it's really hot stuff and I've just got to find it again...