remembrance, sex

Other Author's Writings, Writing

“I would ask myself what o’clock it could be; I could hear the whistling of trains, which, now nearer and now farther off, punctuating the distance like the note of a bird in a forest, shewed me in perspective the deserted countryside through which a traveller would be hurrying towards the nearest station: the path that he followed being fixed for ever in his memory by the general excitement due to being in a strange place, to doing unusual things, to the last words of conversation, to farewells exchanged beneath an unfamiliar lamp which echoed still in his ears amid the silence of the night; and to the delightful prospect of being once again at home.”

Marcel Proust, Remembrance of Things Past: Swann’s Way

“He came. He left. Nothing else had changed. I had not changed. The world hadn’t changed. Yet nothing would be the same. All that remains is dreammaking and strange remembrance.” 

André Aciman, Call Me By Your Name

madeleine, macaron, peach

papillae faded, remembrance no more.

Tasted sweeter than above, I remember.

Below, the taste,

my dearest clit.




Other Author's Writings

ANAÏS NIN was one of the great, understated writers. According to her diaries (after being commissioned to write erotica for a client), she was ashamed of how much sex her client wanted from her stories, with very little poetry. More sex, less poetry was essentially what her client asked of her. She couldn’t imagine how anyone could possibly get off from what she thought was trite and mechanical sex-writing.

Yet, she wrote some of the most well-written, highly engaging erotica to date.

This passage is fromMarcel”, which is a short story that is a part of Delta of Venus.

“Marcel was suffering. I was enjoying the Russian, who was big and powerful and who could hold out for a long time. As Marcel watched us, he took his penis out of his pants, and it was erect. When I felt the orgasm coming in unison with the Russian’s, Marcel wanted to put his penis in my mouth but I would not let him. I said, ‘You must keep it for later. I have other things to ask you. I won’t let you come!’ The Russian was taking his pleasure. After the orgasm he stayed inside and wanted more, but I moved away. He said, ‘I wish you would let me watch.’
Marcel objected. We let him go. He thanked me, very ironically and feverishly. He would have liked to stay with us.
Marcel fell at my feet. ‘That was cruel. You know that I love you. That was very cruel.’
‘But it made you passionate, didn’t it, it made you passionate.’
‘Yes, but it hurt me too, I would not have done that to you.’
‘I did not ask you to be cruel to me, did I? When people are cruel to me it makes me cold, but you wanted it, it excited you.”