Imagery Vs. Script

Lili

It's no secret that I like to look at erotic imagery. I mean, who doesn't get a little turned on by a beautiful woman or handsome man in all their naked glory? But does that make me a voyeur? Hmmm, perhaps. There are times when I literally look forward to a spare couple of hours during my week to do just that, but as I trawl Tumblr after Tumblr and gaze at image after image of sensual kinkery I realize that I am letting that rather important other asset (no, not those assets) of mine grow lazy.

My imagination.

Don't get me wrong, I class a certain amount of visual pervery as being as imperative to my health and well-being as downing those six effervescent vitamin C tablets my mom swears by, but there are limits. I realized this the other evening when I had spent three hours on the sofa gazing at nipple after nipple while my husband sat next to me, utterly enthralled by soccer on TV. What the...?!

So I closed my laptop, switched on my Kindle and started reading my book, picking up where I had left off: -

' "What do you think, David?" Lili gestured with her cresset toward the shimmering subterranean pool, a crescent-shaped widening of the cave stream, which flowed mostly below ground. The pool was tucked into its own glittering grotto, the walls and ceiling of which were encrusted with a dazzling array of crystal formations-flowers, feathers, coral-like nodules. . .Rippling draperies of peachy, translucent stone swooped and swayed at the entrance to this enchanted niche like curtains frozen on a summer breeze. The water itself was a glassy aquamarine that glowed from within, projecting lazy waves of iridescence onto the interior of the grotto, making the crystals sparkle and wink.'

Not the most explicit of tales is it? Now read it again. Let your mind wander and set your imagination free, let it roam with the mystical author as your guide. What do you see? An exotic woman called Lili sashaying provocatively as she makes her way into the pool, submerging her mocha flesh in that aquamarine water? A dashing David stalking after her, sweeping her up in his arms before pushing her gently against the stone edge and doing the dirty?

Well, you wouldn't be far wrong, there was some pretty sweeeeeet pussy worship. As I sat and read this the other night, I realized it was far more powerful than any of the images I had been smut-lusting over. My pulse began to quicken and I noticed my breathing become labored  I squeezed my thighs together to quench the thirst that was beginning to build in my cunt. My nipples grew hard and my pussy clenched. Yes, clenched. I became every erotic writer's cliché as I continued to read about dark caves and mythical creatures with their infinite sexual hunger.

So the moral of the story is, go forth and appreciate the erotic in life, but don't deprive yourselves of the wonder of words, for they can be just as deliciously powerful as the sexy scenes on the screen before you!

Extract from Whispers of the Flesh by Louisa Burton