To determine ten the best descriptions bed scenes in fantasy literature. We will understand the word "bed" in a broad sense, because events will take place on other planets and in virtual reality, under the starry sky and among the endless snows that our heroes will try to melt with their feelings. However, let's start without much prelude.
10. So, in tenth place - an unforgettable scene from "Heretics of Dune", the fifth part of the epic by Frank Herbert. When she is eight years old and he is ten - this is NOT pedophilia. And when several adults anxiously watch the act through a video camera - this is NOT voyeurism. It's just that the people consulted and decided that to awaken the clone's memories of his former life best with orgasm. The experiment was a success, and the boy turned into a man even more dramatically than it happens in life: remembering everything that was before his death in the previous body, he became a junior high school student with the consciousness of an adult commander. A rare case when sex does not cloud, but clears the mind. For such practicality and a complete lack of eroticism, little sinners take only tenth place. The most interesting is ahead!
- What do you think I'm doing? She sat down next to him and put her hand on his penis.
His head jerked, he looked at her hand, feeling the onset of an erection.
- Why are you doing this?
- Do not you know?
- No!
- Bashar would know.
He looked at her face as it drew close to his.
- You know! Why don't you tell me?
- I'm not your memory!
9. Penultimate place in the top ten goes to Jeff Noon for depicting the joys and horrors of virtual sex. On the one hand, there are no consequences, everything is done as if for fun. On the other hand, in "Wirth" you are not in complete control of the situation, as in a dream full of chimeras, where your girlfriend can turn into your father brandishing a sharp razor. A Garden of Eden turns out to be a lifelong nightmare. But avid riders are not afraid. More precisely, it scares, of course, but so what? Well, the developers are specially catching up with fear!
Electric impulses control me, the room wallpaper turns red and pink, blood gushing from the ceiling. Breed hides behind a small sofa. The Beatle possessed Mandy from behind on Turkish carpet.
The Open-Space Being whirls through the air and lands softly on the dining table.
I wander through the swamp of flesh toward the kitchen door for breakfast oatmeal. Stepping over Beatle and Mandy, I see that the door is locked and bolted and looks like a wall of beef.
Blood pours out of the keyhole.
8. The eighth place is occupied by a duel on members from the novel by Philip José Farmer "The Feast of the Hidden". To be honest, this whole book can be considered one long sexual orgy: on the way to his beloved wife main character worries about whether he is ready for this meeting. and checks his physical fitness on everyone who fell under ... well, let's say, a hand: women, men, animals and corpses. Do you happen to know what the perversion is called when you get an orgasm from the process of killing? But the hero of the "Secret Feast" seems to have found a worthy partner (in every sense) - it turns out, and from deadly battle you can enjoy! Yes, the riskiness and looseness of the descriptions is amazing, and in places (guess which ones?) even repels, despite the obvious carnival and parody of the story.
The girl was full of energy and a little later she started all over again. This went on until the first rays of dawn. I fell asleep for a while, and when I woke up, my penis was again in a state of erection. But already from the fact that I really wanted to urinate. A fly settled on the head of the penis, which had become hypersensitive to touch, which immediately caused an orgasm. The first ejection of sperm drowned the fly in itself. This picture still stands before my eyes. Since there have been flies in the world, this must be the first and only time that one of them died in this way.
7. The sexual excesses of the previous paragraph are easily overshadowed by love under the stars from Vladimir Savchenko's book "Position in the Universe." Simultaneously enchanting and ordinary, earthly. And no less beautiful. Speaking without circumlocution, a couple of scientists, one of whom is a pretty woman, took advantage of the moment and the office equipment, turning on views for a romantic mood distant galaxies. Without interruption from the study of the world around - explore the world inside us! This is what real professionalism means.
- No it's not that! - She got up, went to the console, pressed a few keys. starry sky condensed into a galaxy - now the whole obliquely tilted whirlwind of billions of sparkling points was placed above the dome. Its light - weaker than daylight, but brighter than moonlight - magically poured onto Lucy's naked, slender body.
Kornev looked, admired: no, this woman did not rise here from the Earth - she descended from the Changing Universe. Condensed from the light of the stars.
6. Once again Philip Jose Farmer is with us with another orgiastic book under the intriguing title - "Flesh"! This time everything will be done without perversions, but on a much larger scale. A few men from our time find themselves in a dystopian future of Earth, where matriarchy and pagan fertility cults flourish. One of the "newcomers" is destined in this society to become an inseminating bull... That is, an elk. That is, a deity with horns, thanks to which he can be in shape for a long time and delight thousands of girls in different cities every night. Science fiction begins at the moment when the main character has a desire to abandon this "sex mission" for the sake of a single woman.
I want to take the city by surprise. I'll be there before anyone expects me! Let them tremble when the Great Stagg of all Staggs swoops down on them! I'll take them all down like a hurricane! This time, not only virgins will be mine! Now I will not take only what is slipped to me! Not just Miss America contestants! Today - the whole city!
Sylvia recoiled in horror.
“But, sir… that’s not good!” From time immemorial...
- Am I the Hero-Sun or not? Who is the Horned King here? I will do as I please!
5. The second top five winners are opened by a resourceful girl from Tanith Lee's book "Silver Lover". Giving your young body a skillful robot, you can get much more at the same time than from a soft-bodied man! The robot does not know fatigue, he does not need to sleep and eat, he cannot have bad mood, his only desire is to make his mistress happy. He doesn't come home drunk, he can carry a girl all the time, he has a great physique... And he's programmed to be perfect lover. And the fact that he does not know how to love - wake up, but do we know how?
"Perhaps," I said, "you can do without my instructions?" A?
"Good," he agreed.
He pulled me into his arms. This is how the wave receding from the shore carries away. Relentlessly. Dizzy. The elasticity of the lips, their moisture - everything is like a person's ... only the sensations during a kiss are completely different. Then he picked me up in his arms, as if I weighed nothing, and carried me into the elevator.
4. Fourth place is won by Viktor Pelevin with an erotic episode from "Chapaev and the Void". No, no, this is not happening between the two title characters of the novel! And between the enamored Peter Void and haughty Anna. As you know, a woman loves with her ears ... However, here we will do without perversions! It's just that Anna orders her companion to talk continuously on psychological and philosophical topics during the whole action. Thus, the banal description of the process is replaced by a chaotic and inspired monologue on a topic, however, adjacent to the ongoing act. And even if later it turns out to be just a dream - of a smarter erotic dream(or more erotic smart sleep) I can hardly imagine.
- So, she gives ninety percent at the moment when you just see her, and the rest, because of which the whole thousand-year bargaining is going on, is just a tiny remnant. And these first ninety percent cannot be decomposed into any component parts, because beauty is indefinable and indivisible, no matter what Schopenhauer lies about. And as for the other ten, it's just a collection of nerve signals that would not cost anything if imagination and memory did not come to their aid ... Anna, please open your eyes for a second ... like this ... yes, exactly imagination and memory. You know, if I had to write a really strong erotic scene, I would give a few hints, and fill the rest with slurred conversation, like...
3. Ursula Le Guin languidly breathes into the back of the head of the silver medalist with a single page from the work " Left hand darkness": about an earthling and an alien who were left alone in the middle of a snowy plain. I say "alien", although it would also be correct to call him an alien, because this unearthly partner of the protagonist had signs of both sexes, which manifested themselves alternately throughout life. The earthling used to treat him as a friend, and the moment of insight regarding his bisexuality is permeated with tenderness and sadness. There was no physical relationship between them: the inhabitants different planets decided not to rush headlong into the unknown, but tactfully keep a distance. But the true eroticism of these lines brings the writer a well-deserved bronze.
We were both silent for a while, and then he looked at me directly and tenderly. His face in the reddish light of the stove seemed as soft, vulnerable and distant as the face of a woman sometimes is when she suddenly looks at you, tearing herself away from her own thoughts, and remains silent. And then I saw again, and very clearly, what I had always been afraid to see in him, pretending that I simply did not notice it: he was as much a woman as a man. Any need to explain the cause of my sudden fear vanished along with the fear itself; I just had to accept him the way he was.
2. Cozy in second place is Robert Silverberg and a scene from his book Up the Line: Jad and Pulcheria's only night with a touch of incest. Meeting a soul mate is a blessing. But when she is at the same time your distant great-great-great-great-grandmother - admit it, this is somewhat unusual. And a grandmother from the 12th century had a lot to learn from an advanced grandson! Yes, well, morals modern youth... And if without jokes, the author's description of what happened turned out to be sincere and elegant, so he rightfully receives silver.
I counted her breasts. Two. Pink nipples. With my fingers apart, I measured her waist. Not a bad size. Then he ran his fingertips over her thighs. Great thighs. I was delighted with two deep dimples at the very bottom of her back.
She was both shy and uninhibited - an excellent combination.
When I undressed, she saw the timer and touched it, began to fiddle with it with her fingers, but did not ask what it was, but slid her fingers even lower. We collapsed onto the bed together.
1. So, who will get the gold? I know you will like it! The indefatigable Vladimir Savchenko with his truly cosmic sexual fantasies immediately runs from seventh place to first. The sublime love games of the Tikitaks from Gulliver's Fifth Voyage are due to the fact that their bodies are transparent, although they do not differ in structure from ordinary human beings. Spouses under the night open sky adjust the lenses of their bodies, and the husband becomes the eyepiece and the wife the lens. Subtly feeling each other, they look at the stars and planets, as if through an intimate telescope. This is considered a real understanding, as opposed to ordinary carnal relations. And you must admit that there is nothing more erotic than the real happy love.
In the morning I supplemented the verses about Aganite with the line: "Whose thighs are so clean and round that you can see the satellites of Mars through them."
In the following nights, I recorded the periods of revolution of the satellites, and from them it is easy to calculate the orbits.
With this discovery, we began our family star catalog.
Now she won't be him anymore best friend. He will be Lisa's husband.
You must be tired from the road, Travis. Why don't you take a walk?
The twins, having returned from school, actually took over Amy. They dragged her to swim in the pool, where Amy amazed everyone: it turned out that the girl swims like a fish. In her eighteen months of living in the desert, she must have acquired some survival skills.
Ben wanted her. In every way known to him. And there are a few other ways they can come up with.
Amy could have sworn he could see through the thin fabric of her bathing suit the hardening of the tips of her breasts and, Furthermore, felt spasms deep inside her, in hot and dark places she barely knew existed.
Putting her head against his chest, Cole hugged her. He smelled like a man. He began to kiss her. And there was a lot of kissing - she's all!
There was no hesitation in his kisses. He knew exactly how to find her lips.
Only a fool could believe that he kissed her thanks to her lips!
Male fingers caressed her bare skin. Grasping his wrist, Amy tore off his arm.
For me there would be no greater pleasure than being the first in you, - he whispered in her ear, and goosebumps danced all over Amy's body.
She screamed softly as their bodies came close enough to touch.
Cole stretched out his whole body on top of her, covering her completely and even more.
He squeezed her breasts with his palm - he experienced the highest male pleasure.
He put his hand on her stomach, feeling the jolts and ripples.
Her flesh melted into his body. He stubbornly slid his tongue over her lips, repeating their shape.
Amy moved on to examining the throbbing mass of muscle between his legs.
The smile on her lips grew wider with every second that her orgasm approached.
I'm not stupid anymore, I'm learning fast... - She said, taking a sitting position.
And her smile showed that she left this world and went to heaven from happiness.
His tongue thrust into her mouth, furiously doing what the other part of his body longed for.
Nervous shivers crawled up her spine. She turned into one huge goosebump and said, “Yes!”
Selina moaned, no longer straining her brain.
She wanted to die, but instead she fell asleep.
Grace felt her nipples swell. It was a new step in their relationship.
There was always something boiling up in his brilliant brain.
“What does she want? Just sex, or something deeper?
Without turning around, he looked back.
Desire shook him to the very heels.
Chase grabbed her hand. Something warm flowed between them.
A sleeping woman woke up inside her and opened her eyes.
“And that tanned skin of his! And this body in smooth layersnahbiceps, triceps and other male muscles!”
A sexy smile pulled his cheeks up to his ears.
He took her face in his hands and, kissing her, laid her down on the carpet in front of the fireplace.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her eyes burned with anger. Laura decisively shook them off her face.
Jake knelt down, pulling off her jeans and giving her a view of the bay.
He began to climb the stairs, pressing his lips to hers.
There are two scenes in my top, and both are by A. Sapkowski.
She reached out her hands and touched his shoulders. He touched her shoulders. Their faces approached, still slowly, sensitively and tensely, their lips touched carefully and gently, as if they were afraid to frighten off some very, very wary creature.
And then the fireballs collided and there was an explosion. Cataclysm.
They fell on a heap of tomes, which parted under their weight in all directions. Geralt buried his nose in Fringilla's cleavage, hugged her tightly and grabbed her by the knees. Pulling up her dress above the waist prevented different books, including the Lives of the Prophets, full of elaborate monograms and decorations, and De haemorrhoidibus, an interesting if controversial medical treatise. The witcher pushed the huge volumes aside and impatiently tore at the dress. Fringilla lifted her hips willingly.
Something pressed against her shoulder. She turned her head. "The Art of Obstetric Science for Women". Quickly, so as not to wake the dashing, she looked in the opposite direction. "About hot hydrogen sulfide waters". Indeed, it was getting hotter. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the frontispiece open book on which her head rested. "Notes on the Imminent Death". It's not even better, she thought.
The Witcher dealt with her panties. She lifted her hips, but this time just a little, so that it looked like a casual movement, not a helping hand. She didn't know him, didn't know how he reacted to women. Doesn't he prefer those who pretend they don't know what is expected of them to those who do, and does he lose desire if panties are removed with difficulty.
However, the witcher showed no signs of losing his desire. You could say quite the opposite. Seeing that time was running out, Fringilla spread her legs greedily and wide, while turning over a pile of scrolls stacked one on one, which immediately fell on them like an avalanche. Set with embossed leather, "Mortgage Law" rested on her buttock, and decorated with brass fittings, "Codex diplomaticus" - in Geralt's brush. Geralt instantly assessed and used the situation: he slipped a huge tome where it was supposed to, Fringilla squeaked: the binding turned out to be cold. But only for a moment.
She sighed loudly, let go of the witcher's hair and grabbed the books with both hands. Left - for " descriptive geometry”, right - for “Notes on reptiles and reptiles”. Geralt, who was holding her by the hips, knocked down another pile of books with an accidental kick, but he was too engrossed to pay attention to the tomes sliding down his leg. Fringilla moaned spasmodically, rubbing her head against the pages of Notes on the Death....
The books rustled, and his nose stung from the sharp smell of packed dust.
Fringilla screamed. The witcher did not hear this, for she clenched her legs over his ears. He threw off the “History of Wars” and the “Journal of All Sciences, for the sake of happy life needed." Impatiently at war with the buttons and hooks of the upper part of the dress, he moved from south to north, involuntarily reading the inscriptions on the covers, spines, frontispieces and title pages. Under Fringilla's waist is "The Ideal Gardener". Under the arm, not far from a small, charming, invitingly protruding breast, - "About useless and obstinate soltyses." Under the elbow - "Savings, or Simple Directions how to create, share and use wealth”.
He had already read “Notes on the inevitable death”, pressed his lips to her neck, and with his hands being close to “Soltys ...”. Fringilla made a strange sound: either a cry, or a groan, or a sigh ... It was difficult to attribute it to any particular type of exclamation.
Shelves trembled, stacks of books swayed and collapsed, toppling like remnant rocks after a major earthquake. Fringilla called out again. This time the first edition of "De larvis scenicis et figuris comicis" fell with a roar - the true White crow, behind it collapsed the "List of General Commands for the Cavalry", pulling after it the "Heraldry" of John of Attreya, decorated with charming engravings. The witcher groaned, knocking down new volumes with a kick of his outstretched leg. Fringilla shouted again, loudly and drawlingly, knocking down with her heel “Reflections or meditations for all the days of the whole year”, an interesting anonymous work, which, no one knows how, ended up on Geralt’s back. Geralt trembled and read it over Fringilla's shoulders, involuntarily recognizing that "Remarks ..." were written by Dr. Albertus Rivus, published by the Cintrian Academy, and printed by the master printer Johann Froben Jr. in the second year of the reign of His Majesty King Corbett.
The silence that reigned was broken only by the rustle of slipping books and turning pages.
What to do, thought Fringilla, with lazy movements of her hand touching Geralt's side and the hard corner of Meditations on the Nature of Things. - Suggest yourself? Or wait until he offers? If only I didn’t think that I was timid ... or immodest ...
And how to behave if he offers?
"Let's go and look for some bed," suggested the witcher, a bit hoarsely. - You can not treat books - a source of knowledge - so ugly.
Hello! I am here again, again with you, again with an article, in general, everything is as always. Nothing much has changed since the previous article, only the topic is new.
What is the topic today? Let me explain. Often I happened to see works where, in addition to the plot, there was love line. Or there was a plot besides the love line. Or… Okay, I think you get the point. And sooner or later, this very love line led to the inevitable - to the bed scene. The main characters passionately loved each other on the bed / table / floor / chandelier (underline as appropriate), while the author nibbled on a pencil / pen / keyboard, wondering how to describe this process.
Actually, this is what my article will be about. So let's get started!
“And he entered his train into his black tunnel ...”, or a couple of words about speech and anatomy
I won’t talk about what needs to be roughly imagined, what and where it is thrust: it is repeated too often, I think everyone who reads articles of this kind has long been familiar with the unfortunate anatomy. It will rather be about whether these anatomical details are appropriate during the description of sexual intercourse. And whether the opposite is appropriate is what you can admire in the title of this unfortunate section.
It all depends on what genres slash is combined with. This is such a genre that there is no such spherical purely slasher work in a vacuum. When combined with the Fantasy genre, some abuse of beautiful phrases may be quite appropriate, but medical terms will scare away and make most readers laugh. Not because they are funny in themselves, but because they are out of place. Try to look at the style of your work. If you have not disdained modern and scientific words before, then “member”, “prostate” and so on will not stand out from the general row.
Exaggerated "dandelion stems flowing with milk of pleasure" can also be useful in humor or banter. Or psychedelic. Because these phrases seem to be so absurd, they do not become bad. They are bad when they are inscribed in a text that does not match the style. Well, you must admit, it is strange to read a beautiful, atmospheric fantasy, and then with a stone poker face - about the scrotum, urethra and ejaculation.
What can you advise specifically on the style? Here, each author has his own. The main thing - do not forget to make sure that your bed scene does not stand out from the rest of the story, looks organic in it, and not like sticking out in the middle of the board, but not a hammered nail.
Although, perhaps, I’ll still note: try not to pile up words like “Mind-blowing, unreal, amazing.” The more often you repeat the word, the less the effect produced. One description is better than ten if they repeat the same thing. Once they wrote that he felt simply amazing - and that's enough, no more. It's better to focus on the details: one random forehead thump during a bad kiss sometimes looks more real and erotic than a hundred general epithets.
The descriptions themselves
Do not be afraid to describe what is happening, be bold! If you have already taken up the bed scene, justify the rating. As they say, it's too late to drink Borjomi... Well, it's not about Borjomi. As for the descriptions.
There are two extremes here. First - complete lack descriptions of the external and a continuous, splintering description of actions. It looks like this in an example:
John pulled Sam close and kissed him, then pushed him onto the bed and began to undress him. Then Sam smiled and rolled onto his stomach. John began to gently stretch it, after which he went inside and after a couple of thrusts came. Sam came after him and called out his lover's name.
And John was not the favorite, ahem, I'm sorry, I was carried away by the example. It is very unlikely that such a text will evoke emotions. No, the sequence of actions is observed here - no alternative anatomy, the picture is clear ... But I personally imagine two mannequins, one of which hangs a sign "John", on the other - "Sam". Dummy John with dummy Sam show correct sequence actions during lovemaking. A kind of video lesson "Homosexual intercourse for the smallest", forgive me such cruel humor.
Why is this extreme bad? The fact that it is informative, but does not carry anything but information. After reading this, the reader is very likely to say: “They had sex. And what?"
This "So what?" should not occur. Do not be afraid to describe how the same John bit his lip, closed his eyes, licked his lips - and what they are, these same lips. Wet or dry, swollen and reddened, or, conversely, pale ... Yes, the text will be a little more loaded, but it is precisely such details that make the reader immerse himself in what is happening with his head, and not just read and forget.
It is appropriate to describe thoughts, fantasies. Perhaps some proportion of comparisons: associative series the characters during the bed scene does not fall off. But here there is a danger of hitting the second extreme, which looks like this:
John kissed Sam, and then, undressing, looked at him. How beautiful his lover was! This slightly tanned skin reminded him of a recent trip to Italy, where they spent wonderful days own life. They swam, sunbathed, went on excursions different cities and took many different photos. One of these photographs now stood on the desk opposite. Sam in the photo was trying to cover his face with his hand: he never liked to be photographed, and at that time John hardly managed to capture him against the backdrop of St. Peter's Cathedral ...
… Do you still remember that they have sex there?
I think you also see the problem of this extreme: an excess of description that is not related to the erotic scene. This happens in two cases: either the author got carried away and decided to write about their trip to the Vatican to spite the poor Pope, or the author forgot that he was not writing a term paper and it was not necessary to fill the pages with extra text. In the end, no one will eat you if the bed scene is a little shorter, but you will describe the scene itself, and not the photo on the table and the carpet on the wall. How will it approximately look like? Something like this:
John pulled Sam towards him, kissing him greedily. The lover immediately grabbed at his hair, slightly pulling his head back and trying to take the initiative. Unbuttoning his lover's shirt, John ran his nails over his chest, watching the lightly tanned skin turn red.
Okay, I will not paint an example for twenty lines - I think you understand the essence. There should be a description, but it should refer to the sex scene itself. If a gun hangs on the wall, then it should shoot, and if a photograph flashed in the bed scene, it means that they are jerking off at it or it was accidentally brushed to the floor, knocking someone over on the table. Or it seemed to the nervous guy that it would be nice to turn the photo upside down - otherwise the person depicted on it is staring at how they make love. Although if I were the lover of such a guy, I would be wary if the poor fellow has persecution mania, but the characters are different. Suddenly there is one.
About the characters
Suddenly, right? Although okay, who am I kidding - a very expected point. This is one of the most common mistakes - when in a bed scene the characters are confused and do not know what to do, and the almighty author adjusts them to one Procrustean bed world yaoi standard. Let's take the same abstract John and Sam as objects for analysis. So, we have John - a guy of the "bangs, piercings, tight pants" type. He is sometimes melancholy, but quite emotional and easily succumbs to impulses of emotions. Sexual experience - do not live so long. He is enthusiastic about the intimate side of life and is happy to please his partner. And Sam is a simple moderately shy guy of the "nerd flower" type, glasses, no muscles, forever a virgin until he meets John. So… Imagine that you are reading about this couple. And then it starts...
John looked at him in surprise. closed door rooms:
- Sam, would you like to talk?
Instead of answering, the beloved sat on John's hips, squirming insolently and licking his lips depravedly:
- Come on, fuck me, I know you want...
There is one of three things: either Sam has a split personality, or, as in Brazilian TV series, he has an evil twin brother abandoned in infancy, or the character of the characters is not sustained by the author. Let's assume that in our case it is the latter.
Remember, going to new stage relationships, your characters do not immediately become different people with a different psychology. No, an unexpected transition is possible - a confident macho may turn out to be a virgin and feel shy, but there is a very high risk of precipitation with tomatoes and slippers. It is necessary to throw at least some traces of uncertainty into the previous text, so that the reader has the opportunity to at least briefly think: “What if he is not so macho?” Then everything will be organic in the bed scene.
But if the hero Everyday life did not show an easy and slightly curious attitude to the sexual side of life, he is unlikely to run even to a loved one with a cry: "Let's go fuck!". Heroes are still people (or elves, or gnomes, or vampires, or demons, or aquarium fish - to each his own), they have a character. Do not change it in the bed scene. Don’t be afraid to describe how a joker tried to make an awkward joke, or how a shy young man blushed and asked: “Maybe you shouldn’t?”, Or how a rude punk swearing from a buzz ... In general, remember: your heroes are people, not abstract models .
"Today I'm on top, and tomorrow you"
Due to the huge number of yaoi anime, there was a division into "sem" (active) and "uke" (passive). But then, having decided that you need to be original, someone decided: “And let them change places every Monday!”.
In part, these people are right: a couple of two men is not a parody of a heterosexual couple, men most often do not have clear roles in the spirit of: “You are from below - to the kitchen, woman!” and "You're on top - provide for the family, man!". If the guy is from below, he is not necessarily a cutesy snot and snot. If the guy is on top, he is not necessarily a cool brutal.
Alright, I'll open terrible secret, the question "From above or below" is purely for the personal tastes of the couple. Someone in a buzz in any position (even in position 69 on a sacred chandelier), if only with a loved one. Some people like to be fucked doggystyle, on all fours, and prefer to be underneath. But this is not at all such a matter of life and death, as they like to position it: if from below, it means that they are passive with everyone and everywhere, if from above, they will not let anyone near their royal fifth point and will fuck all those who attempt for arrogance.
The question “from above or below” is quite solvable for most couples at the level of those same tastes. But not so that the passive begins to think “Oh, I was fucked, I am morally humiliated and subordinate!”. IN loving couple such thoughts are unlikely to arise, and if they arise, they are quickly treated with an elementary frank conversation. Men generally don't like to be inconvenienced - if they don't like something, they'll likely prefer to say it straight out rather than sit in a corner and sulk. My sisters girls, do not be offended.
What to do and why this item? To the fact that you should not sharpen the issue on the topic "active-passive". This is not a physiological necessity (with rare exceptions). Liabilities aren't born with a penis smaller than a finger, and assets don't have an anus stitched up. If they do not change their position and are used to one from above, the other from below, it only means that they are more pleasant, and not that one of them is a girl.
Transferring someone else's "personal experience" to work
Now I am writing about those cases when a girl (let's not pretend - slash is mostly written by girls, I am one of them) tries to find on the Internet necessary information. Suppose she honestly approached the study of anatomy and other necessary things, that's just the problem ... Young men gay Those who decide to “enlighten” the unreasonable most often believe that if it was so with them, then it cannot be otherwise. A a poor girl gets confused in the testimony: one writes that the first time is sure to hurt, the other - that if the partner is experienced and there is lubrication, then only discomfort, and not hellish pain. One writes that if you do not caress the member of the passive, then he will not end at all, the second - that you don’t need to masturbate at all, because it “distracts” from the main sensations.
What to do with it? Apply someone else's personal experience» Dosed, so that there are no contradictions. Try to be more careful with these "hundred pounds of truthful" articles written by "one hundred percent" gays. Even if the article is really written by a guy, this does not mean at all that his personal experience is an indisputable truth. In no case am I trying to offend anyone and I hope that this advice will not be understood as: “Forget these tips from experienced people!”. Don't kill it. You just don’t need to follow them unquestioningly: remember, it happens in different ways, and not just the way one person described. Isn't this evidenced by the contradictions in works of this kind, belonging to different authors?
Conclusion
This is the end of my article. Dear readers, love, be loved and let your heroes find happiness: do not make dummy out of them. Let them also love each other without losing their face.
Best wishes to you. And good luck with your work!
K Rasivny, sensual, exciting, temperamental: we have collected for you the best erotic scenes world literature. Let's not be verbose! Read, enjoy!
"North".
“There is a green wreath in red hair, drops roll down from breasts, from delicate, pink, like cloudberries, tips - it should be cold. In the hands - geese, from geese - blood oozes, chiseled legs flow around.
There is no strength to endure. And right there, on the warm red stones, Marey warms the cool, pale pink cloudberries with her lips.
No, not warm yet, you see - still cold.
Somewhere the forests are on fire. A fire made of fragrant pine needles smokes on a red stone near a quiet lake. Pelka roasts a fat goose over a fire; fire plays on green, red; lips and hands covered in blood. He smiles a little audibly at Marey with his eyes: no need to say it out loud.
From a distance there is a crunch: a bear is rushing through the slum. It calmed down - and only the white husky grumbles angrily through a dream.
The fire goes out. Sister-pines are moving closer from the darkness - everything is darker, everything is already the world - and now there are only two in the whole world.
"Hello sadness." Françoise Sagan
“At six o'clock, returning from sailing to the islands, Cyril dragged the boat onto the sandy shore. We walked to the house through a pine grove and, in order to keep warm, started a fun fuss, ran around. He always caught up with me not far from home, with a victorious cry he rushed at me, threw me on the ground strewn with coniferous needles, twisted my arms and kissed me. Even now I still remember the taste of those breathless, fruitless kisses and how Cyril's heart was pounding at my heart in unison with the wave splashing on the sand ... One, two, three, four - the heart was beating, and the sea was quietly splashing on the sand - one, two, three ... One - he began to breathe more evenly, the kisses became more confident, more insistent, I no longer heard the splash of the sea, and only quick, continuous jolts of my own blood resounded in my ears.
Julio Cortazar
“We were not in love with each other, we just made love with detached and critical sophistication and after that fell into a terrible silence, and the foam from the beer hardened in the glasses of tow and became warm, while we looked at each other and felt: this and there is time. Maga would eventually get up and start wandering around the room. More than once I saw how she admired her body in the mirror, lifting her breasts with her palms, as if on Syrian figurines, and with a slow glance seemed to stroke her skin. And I could not resist the desire to call her and feel how she was with me again after just a moment she was so alone and so in love, believing in the eternity of her body.
John Williams
“Sometimes, lazy and sleepy after love, he lay, washed by some slow, gentle stream of sensations and unhurried thoughts; being inside this stream, he did not know for sure whether he was speaking aloud or simply taking into his consciousness the words generated by these sensations and thoughts.
He dreamed of something perfect, of worlds where they could always be together, and he half believed in the feasibility of what he dreamed of. “But if you and I…” he said, and continued to speak, constructing an opportunity hardly more attractive than their current position. They both knew, without saying it out loud, that the possibilities they were inventing and contemplating were some kind of ritual gestures for the glory of their love and the life they now had.
And this life was such as neither he nor she could have imagined before. Their attraction to each other grew into a passion, and that into a deep sensuality, renewed day by day.
Love and books, Katherine once said. - What else is needed?
And Stoner thought that this was exactly the way it was, that this was one of the truths that he now knew.
For their life that summer was not limited to intimacy and conversations.
"Volhv". John Fowles
“I remembered Alison, our love games. If she were there, naked, we would make love on a bed of pine needles, take a dip and make love again. I was filled with bitter sadness, a mixture of memory and knowledge; memory of the past and due, the knowledge that nothing can be returned; and at the same time a vague guess that it’s not worth returning everything - for example, my empty ambitions or syphilis, which has not yet manifested itself. I felt great. God knows what will happen next; Yes, it doesn't matter when you're lying on the seashore in such wonderful weather. It is enough that you exist. I hesitated, waiting without fear for something to push me into the future. He rolled over on his stomach and indulged in love with the ghost of Alison, like an animal, without shame or reproach, like a lustful machine sprawled on the stones. And, burning the soles, he rushed into the water.
"Lolita". Vladimir Nabokov
“But my Lolitochka was a frisky girl, and when she let out that stifled laugh that I loved so much, I realized that she had previously contemplated me with playful eyes. She rolled over to my side, and her warm blond curls fell on my right collarbone. I faked waking up pretty badly. At first we were quiet. I softly stroked her hair and we kissed softly. I was somewhat blissfully embarrassed by the fact that her kiss was distinguished by a somewhat comical refinement in the sense of fluttering an inquisitive sting, from which I concluded that she had been trained in early age some little lesbian. No Charlie could teach her such tricks! As if wanting to see if I had eaten my fill and learned the lesson I promised earlier, she leaned back a little, watching me. Her cheeks flushed, her plump lower lip shone, my disintegration was close. Suddenly, with a flash of hooligan fun (a sign of a nymphet!), she put her mouth to my ear - but for a long time my mind could not break the hot rumble of her whisper into words, and she interrupted it with laughter, and brushed the curls from her face, and tried again, and an amazing feeling that I live in a fantastic, just created, crazy world, where everything is allowed, slowly embraced me as I began to guess what exactly was offered to me. I replied that I didn't know what game they were talking about - I didn't know what she and Charlie were playing. "You mean you never?" she began, gazing at me with a grimace of disgust and disbelief. "You mean never?" she began again. I took advantage of the respite to poke my face into various tender spots. "stop it," she squealed nasally, hastily removing her brown shoulder from under my lips. (In a very curious way, Lolita considered - and continued to count for a long time - all touches, except for a kiss on the lips and a simple sexual intercourse, were either "slobbering romance" or "pathology"). "So you never," she insisted (now kneeling over me), "never did that when you were a boy?" "Never," I answered with complete truthfulness. "Fine," said Lolita, "so look how it's done." I will not, however, bore the learned reader with a detailed account of Lolita's arrogance. Suffice it to say that not a trace of chastity was seen by a warped observer in this pretty, barely formed girl who was finally corrupted by the skills of modern boys, coeducation, scams like Girl Scout fires and the like. For her, purely mechanical intercourse was an integral part of secret world adolescents unknown to adults. How adults act to have children, it did not interest her at all. Lolitochka wielded the staff of my life with unusual energy and efficiency, as if it were an insensitive device that had nothing to do with me.
"Submission". Michel Houellebecq
“Miriam rang the doorbell at seven o'clock in the evening.
Happy birthday, Francois ... - she said from the threshold in a thin voice, and, rushing at me, kissed me on the lips, her kiss was long, sweet, our tongues and lips merged together. Returning with her to the living room, I noticed that she was even sexier than last time. She was wearing another black miniskirt, even shorter than the old one, and stockings too - when she sat on the sofa, I could see the black buckle on her garter belt, shining on a dazzling white thigh. Her shirt, also black, turned out to be completely transparent, through it it was clearly visible how her breasts were agitated - I suddenly realized that my fingers remember touching the rims of her nipples, she smiled bewilderedly and for a moment I felt some kind of confusion in her and doom.
Did you bring me a present? - I tried to say it cheerfully to defuse the situation.
No, - she answered seriously, - I did not find anything that I liked.
After a pause, she suddenly spread her legs; she didn't put on any panties, and the skirt was so short that her pubis was immediately exposed, shaved and defenseless.
I'll take it in your mouth, she said, you'll like it. Come to my sofa...
I obeyed and let her undress me. She knelt before me...
