Literotica Teaser
A Lighted Window at Dusk
An erotic two-hander on longing and other obscure sorrows
Dear friends & readers, I have a few exciting updates; I just started writing erotica for Lioness’s new subscription-based platform (S)explore, full of premium content from sex guides to erotic literature. The following is a teaser for my first story there:
A Lighted Window at Dusk—which title was borrowed from one of my favorite blogs, the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows’ definition of the word ‘sonder’—is a poetic, erotic story about Lola who’s isolated and touch starved due to the Coronavirus pandemic. On a winter evening, while gazing out at the tenfolds of apartments visible from her courtyard, she’s struck by a feeling of sonder and her imagination starts to wander…
Part 1: Touch/Withdrawal
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To touch | v. To come or bring into mutual contact: “For a moment their fingers touched.”
A touch | n. The act of touching someone or something: “Her touch on his shoulder was hesitant.”
Withdrawal | the act or process of taking something away so that it is no longer available.
—
Day 305 since the first lockdown. Three-hundred-and-five days since the last time someone else touched her.
Touch. Lola tastes the word.
For a brief moment, one that felt like an eternity, their fingers had touched. Electric currents had fired through her, carrying all the way down to her toes. She had pulled back as if he just stung her, then immediately reached out for more.
She had touched Brennan on his shoulder, hesitant, yet fervently. He responded by grabbing her to squeeze her body against his; wantingly.
She remembers it as if it were yesterday; as if the three-hundred-and-four days had not happened in between. She could still recall the sweetness left on his lips from the hot chocolates they shared that early March morning.
After letting her go, he’d taken her hand, tucked it into his fuzzy jacket pocket as they near-ran to her apartment; as the mild sun flickered in the wet gravel; as brave buds were already bursting through their scales on naked branches.
Ten months ago, they stumbled over her doorstep to leave a trail of clothes from the hallway, across her living room floor. Spring feverish and high on each other, they hadn’t even made it to the bed, but had landed right here, where Lola was now sitting. This was where they languished after, in their own puddle of salty-sweet body fluids.
Days later, after they’d been ordered into lockdown due to the first Coronavirus wave in March 2020, Brennan had been called back from his sabbatical to return to his position as doctor at the New York-Presbyterian. She’d stayed back in Berlin.
…
Part 2: Ambedo
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Ambedo | n. a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details — raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee — briefly soaking in the experience of being alive, an act that is done purely for its own sake.
—
Her thighs touch together, softly, as she walks across her living room floor, leaving a trail of clothes on her way to the shower. She’s in the middle of her cycle and the moon is full; full, like her supple curves.
Since time lost all meaning, Lola’s shower routines have turned into indulgent, drawn-out seances. She scrubs and rubs herself in warm coconut oil, savoring every drop of water as they trickle down to form tiny beads on her body.
Out of the bathroom, she doesn’t mind that her neighbors might catch a glimpse of her nakedness as she saunters by. In fact, her inner exhibitionist is titillated at the thought; her, looking out at them, looking back at her — perhaps even getting roused by the sight. A lustful gaze prickling her skin would be closer than she’s been to physical intimacy in a long time.
…
Part 3: Sonder
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Sonder | n. The realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own — an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.
—
Lola has her vibrator in hand, ready for some quality self-care time before bed, when she glides by her floor-to-ceiling balcony doors. A flickering light from the apartment across draws her closer and she discerns a shadow, disappearing fast behind the drapes. She knows who lives there; the English guy who always jogs in the mornings. She doesn’t know his real name but has nicknamed him Luka.
Did he see her?
She presses her body up against the frigid glass to get a better look, feeling her nipples harden in an instant. The shadow is gone now, and she gazes out at the tenfolds of other windows; some are lit, but many are dark as it’s already close to midnight. Behind them are hundreds of other lives, just as significant and meaningful, yet completely unknown to her. They’re simply extras in her existence, as she is to them. To the few who have noticed, she might be that strange woman who occasionally exposes herself at night. To the rest, she may just as well not exist.
She watches a bedroom on the third floor go dark and pictures a pair in a heated embrace, kissing ardently while wrestling out of their clothes, eager to feel the other’s skin on their own. The thought alone gives her goosebumps as if her pores were reaching out, begging to take part. Her eyes continue to wander, and she envisions hundreds of bodies, touching, stroking, squeezing, and fucking, some rough, others gentle and tender. She’s convinced she can hear them if she focuses hard enough; their moans and screams, their bodies crashing together, and the squeaking of bedsprings. She cracks the window to listen intently. Cool air rushes in to drape her damp skin, causing a contrasting heat to build in her groin.
Lola pushes herself tighter against the window.
To read the rest, the full story will soon be released via Lioness (S)explore here!
For fans and followers who want more of just my stuff, I’ve relaunched my Patreon page where I’ll turn all of my erotic literature into photo-illustrated, special edition PDF e-books—and this story was just uploaded there today! You’ll also soon find photo-poetry books, voice recordings, videos, uncensored professional shoots and self-photo sets, and plenty of other goodies to come…
