Four writers for the price of one blog
I was just checking out our stats page and though I’d pass on some interesting stats about you — and, be honest, is there anything more captivating or interesting than you?
Tags & Categories
I actually think it’s sweet that consensual sex is what the majority of our readers are searching for – especially when it seems that so much on-line erotica is non-consensual. At the end of the day, perhaps, we still yearn for the safe, gentle, accepting touch and the welcoming arms of a lover.
The clinical word insemination, a category I added about a year and a half ago, has rocketed to the top. CP (Creampie) and Cum are both variations on insemination. I think the raw, impersonal, clinical fact of insemination appeals to us in an almost complimentary way (complimentary to consensual sex). I don’t know what proportion of men and women search these categories, but many studies suggest that women primarily prefer erotica (reading) to pornography (visual). If so, then maybe the stats tell us that women want a lover who is safe but who will also, in a complimentary way, be the impersonal and imperturbable “masculine” who needs to inseminate them.
Creampie implies the odorous, warm and satisfied messiness of sex and completion. Cum can be either a man’s or woman’s. The word is implies orgasm, pleasure and liquid release. Copulation (which isn’t a term I expected to be a favorite) must suggest the simple fact of physical union in a way that appeals to us — like the word insemination. It is impersonal. It divests sex of emotion. Maybe that’s what we want from erotica — a place where our desire for sexual completion isn’t entangled by considerations of the “other lover”. Copulation belongs to nature and the pure physicality of pleasure-taking. The word insemination takes up that delicious middle ground that suggests the raw, the inevitable and impregnation; but leaves the outcome to the reader’s imagination.
The search terms tell a slightly different story. These stats tell us how many times a particular search term has been used to find our blog. I’ve omitted search terms like erotica or erotica blog or searches for our individual names or the name of our blog.
The desire to impregnate and be impregnated, even if the reality is a no-go, is deeply programmed into our psyche. Fascinating, isn’t it? — how nature and evolution works in us, we beings of sexual fantasy, to perpetuate ourselves. Nature has seen to it, on the man’s part, that we are powerfully compelled by the fantasy of claiming, taking and impregnating a woman – imprinting ourselves within her. Obviously, it’s not just men who read these stories. Women are also compelled by the complimentary and equally powerful desire to be claimed and possessed, but also to give herself, her creative core, to her lover.
And then there’s “Tentacle”. What is it about tentacle sex that captivates us (or at least more than are ready to admit it)? Obviously it’s not the reality, which can’t possibly be what it’s cracked up to be. The only thing I can imagine is that it’s the deep-seated combination of helplessness and sensual abandonment — the alien, imagined, all-encompassing sensuality of being engulfed and penetrated completely by a being that can be simultaneously soft and rigid. From a man’s perspective, it must be the fantasy of completely and sexually subduing and dominating a woman. Imagine being able to hold her legs, her wrists, her hair, and penetrate her ass and pussy and mouth and to explode inside her in all three places. The joy a woman takes in tentacle erotica must be the corollary. She can imagine being forced to forget who she is, the dishes, the children, the car and schedules, and imagine the complete surrender to an erotic experience that is absolute; that restrains, subdues and penetrates her; and that forces, permits and demands that she abandon herself to sensuality, insemination (and maybe even the insertion of glowing green eggs). I guess this is the long way of saying the “Tentacle” is the symbol and archetype of sensual, sexual and erotic abandon — a symbol of our inner desire for the absolute surrender to our erotic impulses, the soft, rigid and many-armed creature that is our erotic imagination.
Red Riding Hood is our other great archetype. She appeals to both men or women for complimentary reasons. She is the innocent who has sexually matured. The wolf is what many women must innately sense in men as they grow from girlhood into puberty and adolescence. The eyes of men (of all ages) change and become wolfish as their bodies mature. The experience is something that many women resent, many fear, and many more (because of that fear) are conversely attracted to. The dark danger also promises a darker pleasure that women find irresistible — the wolf, the vampire, the were-wolf and even tentacle. Their legs must and will be opened. Men who read Red Riding Hood, are the wolves. The desire to hunt and sexually pursue innocence is evolutionary. Every man, growing from boyhood into manhood, remembers their powerful transformation — when something like a wolf awoke within them. They became like predators, even if they were ashamed and resisted, watching girls and women, their breasts, their thighs, their legs, the shapes of their hips and waists, and the need and compulsion to masturbate — to imagine what they would do to these girls if they caught them. Every classroom became a forest. Every hallway became the path in the woods. And every boy hunted for the girl willing to stray from the path and from safety. Every girl became self-conscious but also powerfully compelled by the new smells and gazes of the wolves ready to consume them. If the popularity of Little Red Riding Hood is any measure, men and women never grow out of this first erotic awakening — of the prey and the predator. The dynamic, perhaps, is the most innate to our erotic selves.
Forced Orgasm is that other most popular search. What more symbolizes our surrender to our erotic and sexual animal-selves than the forced orgasm? There is only one muscle in our body that can be controlled by another. Pain can force us to move or speak in humiliating ways, but the mysterious muscle that begins in our toes, rises through our thighs, glows at the base of our spine, climbs through our abdomens and expresses itself in our mouths, eyes, and eyebrows, makes the entirety of our body an instrument belonging to the giver of pleasure. The story of the forced orgasm tells us our body and pleasure are not entirely our own. Our bodies yearn to be touched, stroked and loved whether or not we consent. The forced orgasm is the pleasurable reminder that no matter how immortal our souls, the giver of pleasure can bind our bodies, constrain us, and force us to surrender to the eye-rolling spasms of bodily pleasure. That’s the joy in giving our lovers orgasms. We know their orgasm is really ours and that ours are really theirs.
But all this is just my take and what I try to put into my stories. Comment and tell me why you like what you like.