Previously in The Toast’s coverage of adult sexuality: Erotica written by an alien horrified by the human body.
However many of them there were at the time strategically exited their clothes and proceeded to do what frankly is none of our business.
The two of them eschewed sex for more practical uses of their time, and as a result excelled in their chosen careers.
If any of the parties involved reflected inwardly on any particular images or memories during the act, let us draw a mental curtain over it; we can surely agree that their thoughts are not our collective property.
Together they attempted to strike a balance between the desire for privacy and the desire for disclosure and communication of oneself to others, in light of the environmental conditions and social norms set by the society in which they lived. Whatever conclusions they reached are purely their own.
They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary arousal deserve neither liberty nor arousal.
An invitation was extended. It was neither made nor offered to you; therefore there cannot possibly be a legitimate reason for disclosing further details.
A request was made and honored by the relevant parties involved. What concern is it of yours?
To be left alone is the highest form of respect and courtesy one human being can pay another. Why not offer your respect to this happy couple, and withdraw from the scene?
The two of them moved in concert in a specific location; I am not required by law to be more specific than that and you cannot compel me to be so.
Fluids were produced and ingested. The order in which this occurred, and from which corresponding body said fluids emerged, is irrelevant.
An appurtenance was met with asylum, and things proceeded from there. You are not welcome here. Begone from this place. You have not been invited, and are not likely to be.
They were naked. Are you happy, knowing this? Everything does not need to be shared. Live your own life.
What is true freedom? To demand nothing from others, and to have nothing demanded from you. Her panties were red. This is not information you require.
Tags: decency, erotica, frankly that’s none of your business, privacy, sex, writing
“The two of them eschewed sex for more practical uses of their time, and as a result excelled in their chosen careers.”
If only eschewing sex would grant me the extra time I need to excel at anything.
Luckily for me, writing sex scenes is my chosen career. Score!
To be flamboyantly ignored, with a distant purr containing but the briefest hint of approval, this is a very fine thing.
I suddenly feel terrible about all of the fanfiction I’ve read.
“Begone from this place. You have not been invited, and are not likely to be.”
so… you’re sayin’ there’s a chance?
I like the idea that the “invitation” was carefully calligraphed on thick cream card stock, with the date, time, and dress code precisely stated.
Joke’s on you cuz MODESTY MAKES ME HARD
Tell me, an internet stranger, everything.
…I feel like this is what would happen if I ever tried to sext someone.
“Thinking of you, imagining… things. Things that happen. Between us. Privately. That’s all. Just things.”
“Various situations are occurring between us, I assure you.”
“Consider this a sext” is my husband’s usual MO.
I know god I can barely talk dirty with someone while I am actively having sex with them.
yes, it is basically uncanny how Mallory knows precisely how British people sext.
“My hypothetical location converges on yours. Perhaps, God willing, there may be a breach of physical contact.”
Have you seen Amy Schumer’s skit on sexting? It is perfect.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqYCsqUCNgo
Ha! This is great both because it’s funny and because it makes me feel better about the one time I tried phone sex in college and my then-boyfriend got mad at me because he could hear me flipping through a magazine.
God, I hope you were just reading Cosmo sex tips to him.
He probably would have been less cranky if that had been the case, but I’m pretty sure it was an issue of Vanity Fair.
Only once in my life did I attempt to sext my bf (now husband). He didn’t seem really into it and I found out a bit later he was out shopping with his mom. Never again.
That’s the loveliest story ever.
“An appurtenance was met with asylum.”
WHOA NOW
What happened could be expressed using metaphors, but we should also be circumspect w/r/t the rights of the metaphors themselves to be shielded from scrutiny.
“I am tired of being a simile. Now I want to be a metaphor.”
Author, author!
Good heavens! *monocle falls and shatters*
I fainted, Ruskin-style
God that’s hot!
“A little after midnight the Gillenormand house became a temple.
Here we stop. On the threshold of wedding nights stands an angel smiling, a finger to his lips.”
-Victor Hugo, who will tell you what every minor character ate for breakfast that day and include a short essay outlining the social implications of breakfast
I read Les Miserables in high school, and I remember feeling quite cheated when I got to Smiling Doorway-barring Wedding Night Angel.
I was so relieved when Hugo did not go into more detail about the wedding night.
I have read Les Miserables recently, and I must say I was disappointed as well.
One of my favorites is James Branch Cabell’s “And then the light was turned out, and it is not possible to know what happens in the dark”.
But then, I am convinced that Cabell was the author of Robert W. Chambers’ imaginary novel, “The King in Yellow”, which was said to violate every sensibility of decency, morality and piety without ever being overt or explicit.