સાહિત્ય ના સંદર્ભે રસશાસ્ત્રમા નવ રસ ગણાવાયા છે- શ્ંગાર (કામ, વાસના, પ્રેમ) , હાસ્ય (વ્યંગ, રમુજ, આંનંદ), અદ્ભુત (રોમાંચક્તા, ભવ્યતા), શાંત (શાંતી, સ્થિરતા), રૌદ્ર (ક્રોધ, વિનાશ), વીર (શૌર્ય, બહાદુરી, સ્વાભિમાન), કરુણા (દયા, દુઃખ, અનુકંપા), ભયાનક (ચીંતા, હતાશા, ડર), બિભત્સ (ધ્રુણાસ્પદ).
આ નવ રસ પૈકી શૃંગાર રસ ને રસરાજ કહેવાંમા આવ્યો છે, કારણ કે શૃંગાર રસ અન્ય તમામ રસ ને પરસ્ત કરી શકે છે. અન્ય તમામ રસ , દુઃખ, દર્દ, નિરાશા, ક્રોધ, ડર, હતાશા, ચીંતા, આનંદ, તમામ લાગણી- ભાવ ને ભુલવાડી, પરાસ્ત કરીને શૃંગાર રસ માણસ ને સુખ આપી શકે છે. અન્ય કોઈ પણ રસ કે લાગણી બીજા રસ કે લાગણી પર વિજય નથી મેળવી શક્તો જે રીતે રીતે શૃંગાર રસ અન્ય તમામ રસ કે લાગણી પર મેળવી શકે છે. પરંતુ ગુજરાતી સાહિત્ય મા કોઈ રસ પ્રત્યે સૌથી વધુ અંતર રાખવામાં આવ્યું હોય તો તે શૃંગાર રસ છે. ગુજરાતી લેખકો અને વાચકો એ શૃંગાર રસ પ્રત્યે અકારણ સુગ કે અણગમો રાખી ને ગુજરાતી ભાષા ને ખુબ મોટો અન્યાય કર્યો છે. ચન્દ્રકાન્ત બક્ષી સાહેબ ના શબ્દો મા કહિએ તો - બાથરુમ મા પણ પોતાની જાત આગળ સંપુર્ણ નગ્ન ના થઈ શક્તી ગુજરાતી પ્રજા એ ગુજરાતી સાહિત્યને વધુ પડતુ, ચોખલીયું, શીષ્ટ બનાવી દિધૂ છે. અને આ વધુ પડતા ચોખલિયાવેડાં ના કારણે ગુજરાતી સાહિત્ય બિમાર દર્દી ની ડાયેટ ખીચડી જેવું મોળું અને ફિક્કુ બની ગયું છે.
ગુજરાતી પ્રજા એ શૄંગાર રસ ને ખુલી ને સ્વીકાર્યો કે આવકાર્યો નથી. ગુજરાતી સાહિત્યમા લેખકો અને વાચકો એ શૄંગાર રસ પ્રત્યે જે અણગમો કે સુગ રાખી એનુ એક કારણ ગુજરાત નો ભદ્ર સમાજ અને એનુ ચોખલીયાપણૂં સંસ્કાર ની અતિરોક્તિ, ભદ્રતા નો ડંભી આડંબર પણ છે. ગુજરાતી પ્રજા કામરસ ના વિષય મા હમેશાં કાયર રહી છે, કામરસ ને હમેશાં એક ગુના કે પાપ ની લાગણી એ જોયું છે. ભારત ની અન્ય પ્રજાની જેમ ગુજરાતી પ્રજા સેક્સ ને સાહજિક અને સ્વાભાવિક રીતે સ્વીકારી શકી નથી. શૄંગાર રસ ને સ્વીકારવા મા ગુજરાતી પ્રજા ને હમેશાં એક ડર લાગ્યો છે, પોતાના ચારિત્ર્ય પર સવાલ ઉઠવાનો, પોતાનું વ્યક્તિત્વ જજ (Judge) થવાનો. પરીણામે સમાજ મા બધા આગળ સારા દેખાવા કે મહાન બનવા દરેક એવો ડોળ અને દંભ કરે છે કે એને શૄંગાર રસ મા કોઈ રસ નથી, ખાસ દિલ્ચસ્પ્પી નથી કે પસંદ નથી. પણ આપડાં સ્વીકારવા કે ના સ્વીકારવાથી એ હકિકત બદલાઈ નથી જવાની કે શૄંગાર રસ હમેશાં માણસ જાત નો સૌથી વધુ રસ્પ્રદ વિષય રહ્યો છે, અને શૄંગાર રસ એ જ માણસ ને સૌથી વધુ આનંદ આપ્યો છે.
આજે ગુજરાતમા ગુજરાતી ભાષા બચાવો ઝુંબેશ ચાલી રહી છે અને એ અંતર્ગત યુવાનો ને ગુજરાતી સાહિત્ય વાંચવા માટે પ્રેરવામા આવી રહ્યાં છે જે ખરેખર સારી ચળવળ છે . પરંતુ આપડે એ પણ સમજવું પડશે કે આજનો યુવા વર્ગ ગુજરાતી સાહિત્ય કેમ નથી વાંચી રહ્યો. ગુજરાતી ભાષાને બચાવવા જેટલું યુવાનો ગુજરાતી સાહિત્ય વાચંતા થાય એટલું જ જરુરી છે કે લેખકો એવું સાહિત્ય લખતાં થાય કે યુવાનો ને વાંચવું ગમે. આજે ઈન્ટરનેટ ના જમાના માં ટી.વી. સિરીયલો કરતાં વેબ સિરીયલો અને યુ-ટ્યુબ સિરીયલો વધુ ચાલી રહી છે કારણકે એ સિરીયલો પરીકથા જેવી કાલ્પનીક નથી પણ વાસ્તવીક્તા ની એક્દમ નજીક છે. પરીકથાઓ સુંદર લાગે પણ જીવંત નહિ.
માત્ર શુધ્ધ, ચોખ્ખું, ભદ્ર, સારું, સભ્ય, સુંદર, સંસ્કારી સાહિત્ય લખવાની જિદ મા રહેશું તો સાહિત્ય સુંદર લખાશે પરીકથા જેવું પણ જીવંત સાહિત્ય નહિ લખાય. વિર શિવાજી ની મુર્તી કરતા એમનું નાટક વધુ રસ્પ્રદ લાગે છે, કારણકે મુર્તી સુંદર છે પણ નાટક જીવંત છે. માત્ર સભ્ય અને ભદ્ર ભાષા મા લખવાનું રૂઢીગત વલણ તોડવું જોઈએ. અન્ય ભાષાઓ ની જેમ ગુજરાતી એ પણ સાહિત્યમા અભદ્ર ભાષા ને સ્વીકારવી પડશે કારણકે એ પણ જીવન ની એક વાસ્તવિક્તા છે. માણસ ની ખરાબ વાતો પણ એના જીવનનો જ એક ભાગ છે. ઉદાહરણ તરીકે જોઈએ તો અભદ્ર ગાળ. ગાળ બોલવી એ ખરાબ વાત છે અને અભદ્ર શબ્દ છે. પરંતુ વાર્તા ના હિરો કે વિલન ના ગુસ્સા નુ વર્ણન કરવા માટે ૧૦-૧૫ લીટી ના ફકરા કરતા એક શબ્દ ની ગાળ વાચક ના મન પર વધુ અસર કરે છે.
ગુજરાતી વાચકો ની હમેશાં એક ફરીયાદ રહી છે કે ગુજરાતી ભાષા મા હજુ સુધી કોઈ ઉત્તમ શૄંગાર સાહિત્ય નથી લખાયું. એના મને મુખ્યત્વે બે કારણ વધુ જવાબદાર લાગે છે.
૧- શૄંગાર રસ માટે અલ્પ શબ્દ ભંડોળ અને અભદ્ર શબ્દો ની અસ્વીક્રુતી.
ગુજરાતી ભાષા મા કામ રસ કે સેક્સ નુ વર્ણન કરવાં માટે શબ્દો મર્યાદિત છે અને જે શબ્દો છે એ વાપરી નથી શકાતા કારણકે એને અભદ્ર ગણવા મા આવે છે. અને ભદ્ર શબ્દો વાપરીએ તો એમા કામુકતા નથી આવતી. ગુજરાતી વાચક ચેતન ભગતની કે અન્ય લેખક ની અંગ્રેજી નવલકથા મા- "wow, you are wet", " he touched between my aroused clits", "i dont make love, i do fuck hard", "i started riding him on his extra large manhood", " he was riding me wonderfully wild from back with his hard dick", "i want you to fuck me", "you are so fucking hard"etc શબ્દો અને વાક્યો વાંચી અને સ્વીકારી શકે પણ આ જ વાક્યો અને શબ્દો ગુજરાતી નવલકથા મા ગુજરાતી ભાષા મા વાંચી પણ નથી શક્તા. અને આ વાક્યો ને શુધ્ધ અને સભ્ય ભાષા મા લખવાં જાવ તો એમા કોઈ કામુકતા કે અસરકારતા રહેતી નથી. ચોખા અને મગ થી ખીચડી જ બને, તીખી તમતમતી ખાટી મીઠી મસાલેદાર ભેળ નહિ.
માત્ર સભ્ય અને ભદ્ર શબ્દો થી જ શૄંગારીક વર્ણન ના લખી શકાય અને લખીએ તો એ ભેળને બદલે ખીચડી જ બનશે એ વાત ગુજરાતી વાચક અને લેખક બન્ને એ સ્વીકારવી પડશે.
૨- ગુજરાતી સ્ત્રી લેખક ની શૄંગારીક સાહિત્ય મા ગેરહાજરી.
ગુજરાતી ભાષા મા શૄંગારીક સાહિત્ય લખી શકે એવી સ્ત્રી લેખકો ની ગણતરી કરવા બેસીએ તો આંગળીઓ ના વેઢાં પણ વધી પડે. દરેક ભાષા નું ઉત્તમ શૄંગારીક સાહિત્ય મહદ અંશે સ્ત્રી લેખક દ્વારા જ લખાયું છે. કારણકે ભગવાને સ્ત્રી નુ શરીર અને મન પુરુષ કરતાં વધૂ શૄંગારીક બનાવ્યું છે અને એટલે જ સ્ત્રી સેક્સ ને પુરુષ કરતાં કામુક રીતે અનુભવી અને માણી શકે છે. અને એ કારણ ના લીધે જ સ્ત્રી ઉત્તમ શૄંગારીક સાહિત્ય લખી શકે. અને હ્યુમન સાઈકોલોજી મુજબ સેક્સનું વર્ણન કરવાં મા સ્ત્રી પુરુષ કરતાં વધુ ખુલી ને બોલી શકે છે અને વાત જ્યારે લાગણી ને વર્ણવાની હોય ત્યારે પુરુષ હમેશાં શરમાળ અને સ્ત્રી બેશરમ બની છે .
પણ ગુજરાતી સ્ત્રી લેખક ખુલી ને કે બેશરમ બની ને શૄંગારીક સાહિત્ય લખવાની હિંમત નથી કરી શકતી કેમ કે ગુજરાતી પ્રજા એ અનુકુળ વાતાવરણ અને સ્વીક્રુતી નથી આપી. એને ડર છે કે મારા વાચકો મારા વિષે શૂં અને કેવું વિચારશે. એને ડર છે કે સમાજ એને ચારિત્ર્યહિન ગણશે, એના વિષે ખરાબ વાતો થાશે, એના પર ચાલુ નુ લેબલ લગાડવા મા આવશે. કારણકે આપડા સમાજ મા એ સ્ત્રી લેખક જેટલી હિમ્મત નથી કે સેકસ ને સાહજીક અને સ્વાભાવિક રીતે સ્વીકારી શકે. એ સ્ત્રી લેખક જેટલી નિડર છે એટલો જ આપડો સમાજ અને સમાજ ના પુરુષો ડરપોક છે.
ઊદાહરણ રુપે અંગ્રેજી ભાષા ના અમુક શૄંગારીક વર્ણન ના અંશો ટાંકી ને આ ચર્ચા ને અંહી ટુંકાવું છું.
1- From One Indian Girl by Chetan Bhagat
We reached the Benjamin Hotel. We had made some progress. We had held hands, but only
that. Did I intimidate him? Did he totally lie but actually not find me attractive? Is he scared?
‘So this is where I live. Train stop is right there.’ I pointed at the subway sign.
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I had a great time. Thanks for the treat.’
‘You are welcome,’ I said. ‘Bye.’
My heart sank a bit. I didn’t want him to go.
‘Hey, just one thing. Doesn’t have to be today,’ he said.
‘Yeah?’ I said.
‘You have your sister’s photo in your room? Wanted to check. I am sure the claim that she is
prettier is false,’ he said.
Was that a move? He mentioned my room. Did he want to come upstairs? Or he could
technically want me to go up and bring down some pictures. Heck, I had Aditi didi’s photos on my
phone. So is this a move? Will someone tell me, please?
I smiled at him.
‘No, really,’ Debu said,
‘That’s sweet. So are you.’
‘Pretty?’
I laughed. ‘No. Handsome. Smart. Creative too.’
‘Thanks,’ he said.
‘Okay, I think I have some photos on my laptop upstairs. You want to come up?’ I said.
‘No way,’ Debu said. ‘She is not prettier than you.’
‘Oh, come on,’ I said. ‘Aditi didi is so nice-looking.’
‘Listen, sure she is, but not more than you. No way. You have better features.’
‘That’s not what my mother led me to believe,’ I said.
‘Must be the Punjabi thing. The whiter the skin, the prettier the person. Nonsense,’ he said,
somewhat agitated.
We sat on the edge of the hotel bed, my laptop in the middle. I had a two-year-old family
album open on the screen.
‘All my life I have been this nerdy, studious girl. Aditi didi is considered the looker.’
‘Sorry, she’s your sister, but she dresses like she is going to a party even for random family
pictures at home.’
‘She is like that,’ I said.
‘You did wear horrible glasses though,’ Debu said.
I laughed.
‘I switched to contacts a year ago,’ I said, and pointed to a picture of my family in our living
room. ‘That is dad. Simple, quiet man. Just doesn’t want people in society to say anything critical of
him. This is my mother. Dominates dad totally.’
Debu examined the pictures as I spoke again.
‘I miss home,’ I said. ‘Seeing these pictures I miss India. I want to watch TV serials with my
mother and do nothing.’
‘Says the new hotshot distressed debt banker. Too late, girl.’ Debu laughed.
I made a mock-sad face.
I need a hug. Move things forward, Debu. Do I have to give you an instruction manual?
‘It’s a sweet family,’ Debu said.
‘It is,’ I said. I wanted to stall the conversation with short, boring replies. Awkward silences
lead to many interesting things.
Unfortunately, certain intellectual Bengali men don’t often get the hint.
‘Have you read The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolf?’ Debu said.
‘No, what’s that?’
‘A landmark feminist book. It talks about how women are culturally bullied into feeling
conscious about their looks all the time,’ he said.
‘Really? Well, to a certain extent it’s true,’ I said.
‘Yeah. Do men compare their physicality with their siblings so much?’
‘I guess not.’ At another time or place, like at one of our Friday dinners, I would have liked to
engage in this intellectually stimulating conversation. Not now. I had other things on my mind.
‘Exactly,’ he said, ‘she says it is a way for men to control women and. . .’
‘My feet are killing me,’ I interrupted him. I removed my shoes. I brought my feet up on the
bed. My short dress inched up a little further on my thighs. Debu forgot his chain of thought. I guess
there are ways for women to control men too.
‘Sorry, what were you saying?’ I said. I squeezed and released my toes.
‘Huh?’ he said. ‘Nothing. I will give you the book.’
‘Not used to walking long distances in heels,’ I said.
‘Do you want me to give you a foot massage?’ he said.
And the Republic Day bravery award finally goes to Debashish Sen, I wanted to announce.
‘Really?’ I said. ‘You know how to?’
It was one of those stupid things girls sometimes say. We know it is stupid but we say it
anyway to act naïve or whatever.
I loved his hands on my feet.
‘Wow, that’s nice,’ I said. He pressed my feet timidly, as if I would get up and slap him any
second.
He massaged my shins. His hands slowly moved up to my knees. I didn’t stop him.
‘Do you have lotion?’ he said. I pointed to the bedside table. He took a bottle of moisturizer
and splashed it on my feet. I jerked as the cold lotion touched my skin. He put his warm hands on my
legs. He moved them in a sliding motion from shin to knee.
I closed my eyes. I could feel his hands reach above my knees. Nobody had ever touched me
there before, unless you count the waxing torture-chamber lady. Tingles of pleasure ran up my thighs.
He became bolder every minute, going higher. We didn’t exchange a word. He reached the
hem of my dress. His fingers danced tantalizingly upon my thighs.
Is this all moving too fast? a voice within me said. Heck, I didn’t care.
‘Is this okay?’ Debu said.
I nodded. I opened my eyes. I signalled him to bring his face closer to mine. He leaned
forward. Our lips met. I kissed for the first time in my life.
I could feel he had bottled up his desire too. His lips refused to leave mine. Our tongues
touched. I lost track of time, space and orientation. I had seen kisses in the movies. I had imagined
what my first one would be like. But this was better. Better than anything I had seen or imagined.
‘You are so beautiful,’ he whispered into my ear as he nibbled my earlobe.
He placed his hand on my breast, over my dress. He wanted to slide his hand in but couldn’t. I
would have had to remove the entire fitted dress to give him access.
I pushed back his chest.
‘Is this going too fast?’ I said. Like any guy would actually say, ‘Yes, it is.’
‘No. Of course not. It feels right,’ Debu said, one hand on my thigh.
He moved his other hand to my back, trying to find the zipper for my dress.
‘There’s too much light,’ I said. Sure, he had praised my body. However, I had never taken off
my clothes in front of a man. I couldn’t with so much light.
He switched off all the lights in the room. The window curtains remained open. The dim light
from the Manhattan skyline was just about enough for us to see each other.
I had worn a new matching pair of red lingerie from Triumph, in anticipation.
Debu pulled my dress off. He unhooked my bra from behind. He removed his shirt as well.
‘What are you making me do, Debu?’ I whispered as I held my unhooked bra in place with my
hands. I felt I had to make it seem like he made me do this. Never mind the pre-planned lingerie.
‘Just go with the flow,’ Debu said, standard boy-speak for ‘let me please have sex without
interruption’.
He pulled the red bra out of my hands. He grabbed my breasts.
‘Not so hard, please,’ I said.
‘Sorry,’ Debu said.
‘You have done this before?’ I said.
He took a few seconds to answer.
‘If I say yes, will you ask me to stop?’ Debu said.
I laughed.
‘No, silly. Just that this is my first time,’ I said.
‘I had one girlfriend before. Two years back.’
‘Can we not talk about that now?’ I said.
He kissed my nipples. He moved up and kissed my collarbone. He kissed my chin and then my
lips for several minutes. He tugged at my panties. My heart beat fast. Was I really going to get fully
naked in front of a man?
I guess it was too late. He pulled down my panties. He removed his trousers and underwear. I
had not seen a naked man so up-close. I wanted to get a good look, more as an anatomy lesson.
However, he held me tight and continued to kiss me. His hands moved higher on my thighs.
‘Your legs are so soft,’ he said. I decided to take a life membership at Completely Bare.
He touched me between my legs. The Brazilian had made everything smooth.
‘Wow, you are wet,’ he said.
I wasn’t just wet. I was soaked. The good girl in me wondered if he would judge me for it.
He bent and brought his face closer between my legs.
‘What are you doing?’ I said.
‘Huh? Going down.’
‘Down where?’ I said.
‘Down. There.’
‘Really? Your mouth? There?’
‘Yeah. Just relax.’
I can’t really describe the next ten minutes. His tongue felt the exact opposite of the brutal
waxing strips. Every flick transported me to a state of extreme pleasure. Why don’t people do this all
the time? Wow, why didn’t anyone tell me sex feels so damn good?
He put a finger inside me. I winced once.
‘Careful,’ I said.
‘Does it feel good?’ he said.
I nodded, my eyes closed.
He continued to work with his tongue. I became more aroused. I soon reached a point where
the intensity became too much.
‘Stop,’ I said.
‘What?’ he said.
‘Come here,’ I said.
He came up close. I kissed him, which was a little strange considering where his mouth had
been just now.
He climbed over me.
‘May I?’ he said.
Was I going to have sex? Had I finally grown up? But wait, should I?
‘I have protection,’ he said.
Damn, did the guy anticipate this? Was I too easy?
‘I happened to have it in my wallet,’ Debu said, as if reading my mind.
I didn’t want to think anymore. I gave him the slightest nod.
He entered me gently. It hurt a bit. Frankly, his tongue had felt better. However, this is what
people call sex, I thought, so I guess this is what we have to do.
Radhika Mehta, you are finally having sex, I said to myself and mentally high-fived. It felt
like a major milestone in life, on par with getting into IIMA or scoring Goldman Sachs. Or distressed
debt. Will that job be tough? Okay, why am I thinking about distressed debt when there is a man in
me?
‘You feel so amazing,’ he said.
I was glad he felt that way. As for me, I couldn’t see what the big fuss was about sex.
How do I ask him to do that ‘going down’stuf again? Is it too late? What is the protocol in
bed?
His strokes became faster. He gripped me tight on my shoulders and groaned. I guess he had
had an orgasm. He gasped for a few seconds as he went lax on me.
‘Wow,’ Debu said. ‘Amazing, isn’t it?’
So, how did I feel after having sex the first time? Well, you know how you sometimes wait for
a big Salman or Shah Rukh movie for months and then it finally arrives? You go for the first day first
show, and then the movie is not bad, but not so great either.
‘Yeah, was amazing,’ I said. I guess it’s just polite to agree with people in bed.
He slid off me and lay on the side. He stared at the ceiling. We held hands.
‘You are wonderful. Thank you,’ he said.
‘Thank you’? What on earth was that? Is the show over? Why is he plopped like a phone
without charge now?
‘Was it good?’ I said.
‘I repeat, amazing. I am so spent and finished.’
‘Finished?’
‘Satisfied, I mean,’ he said.
‘Debu.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Can you make me spent and finished too? Please?’
‘Huh?’ Debu said. He turned to me, surprised.
‘That going down thing you did. Can you do it a bit more?’ I said.
‘Sure, baby.’
Good. I guess that didn’t make me the shy and coy girl all Indian girls should be. Maybe it
even made me seem like a slut. However, I would rather be a spent and finished slut than a good but
frustrated Indian girl.
Five minutes later, I moaned out loud too. Wow. I pressed his head hard between my legs. My
legs shook, and then my whole body. Okay, so this is what an orgasm feels like.
‘How are you?’ he said.
I hid my face in embarrassment.
‘What? I said, “How are you”.’ He laughed.
‘Spent. And finished.’
2- From Play with me By Ananth
I woke up to the smell of perfume. Cara was running her hands through my hair.
‘Tired?’ she asked.
And before I could reply she leaned over and kissed me.
I kissed her back. Her full lips were soft and pliant, and as her tongue sought
mine I felt a small tingle in the middle of my back. She held my face in her
hands as we kissed slowly. The heady mix of her perfume and her lush body, so
close to mine, was driving me crazy. I wanted to see her naked. I pushed her
away from me slowly, holding out my hand to her. Cara stood up with me and
pulled off her t-shirt. She was wearing a nude bra, her full breasts straining
against the lacy cups. She walked over to the door, locked it and, standing there
with her back towards me, slowly peeled off her jeans, giving me a gorgeous
view of her ass covered in matching nude bikini briefs.
Then she turned around and stood there, illuminated by the soft light in the
room, her curly shoulder-length hair falling just over her collarbone,
accentuating her long neck. She had an athlete’s flat stomach and her briefs
covered her mound like second skin. She reached back, unhooked her bra and
slowly dropped it to the floor. Her full, rounded breasts seemed like they had
been handcrafted in heaven and her pink nipples ached to be sucked on. Her flat
abdomen gave way to perfect long legs with dimpled knees; I wanted to crouch
down and lick them. Her body was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes
on.
She walked up to me and, with her arms around my neck and her breasts
crushed against my chest, kissed me hungrily. She stepped back, grasped the
edges of my shirt and pulled them apart, ripping off the buttons, and made me
take it off. Her eyes shining with delight, she slowly licked her way down to my
waist where she paused to undo my jeans and pulled them down with my boxers.
I shut my eyes and drew in a deep shuddering breath when she cupped my balls
in one hand and took my straining cock in her mouth, making it harder. Running
her wet tongue around the head, she started sucking me while slowly pumping
my shaft with her other hand. ‘You are so fucking hard,’ she said. She grabbed
my ass and squeezed, taking all of me in her mouth and pulling back again and
again, sucking just as I left her mouth. Finally I couldn’t take it any more and
hauled her back to her feet.
‘I want you to fuck me,’ she said, slipping her hand into her panties.
I went down on my knees and yanked her panties off. I started licking her,
spending time on her swollen clit; she tasted salty.
‘Yes,’ she screamed, holding my head firmly in place and lifting her hips
towards me.
I fondled her breasts as I thrust my tongue into her, feeling every fold of her
juicy cunt.
‘Make me come,’ she urged breathlessly.
I pushed her down on the sofa, spread her legs wide, hooking them over my
shoulders, and started eating her. She clutched my hair, pulling hard, until she
was beginning to hurt me.
‘Cara!’
‘Don’t stop, Sid,’ she said, pushing my head into her further.
I wet my thumb and started rubbing her clit, still licking her, drunk on her
juices. She began to moan.
‘Stop! Fuck me,’ she commanded suddenly.
I stood up, hitched her legs around my waist and slid my cock into her,
pushing all the way in.
‘FUCK!’ she yelled.
I pulled back and thrust into her again, holding her by her hips, one bended
knee on the sofa and my other leg firmly planted on the ground.
‘HARDER!’ she screamed.
I pulled out again, and slammed into her, feeling her wet, tight cunt swallow
me whole.
Eyes squeezed shut, she thrashed her head from side to side, and kept
repeating, ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,’ as she raised her hips towards me, meeting
my every move.
I was pounding her in a rhythm now, pushing harder into her and withdrawing
slowly, feeling her around my cock as I pulled out. Only to thrust all the way
back in.
‘Come,’ I demanded.
As if on cue, her whole body stiffened and, as she yanked me into her, saying,
‘Oh fuck,’ she came.
I held her there, my cock still inside her, hard and aching for more, until her
body stopped shuddering. I sucked in a deep breath, taking in the smell of our
sex, and lay my head down on her sweaty breasts, while she tightened her grip
around my shoulders. We lay there like that until it seemed we were breathing
together, our hearts beating as one.
3- From Play with me By Ananth
I followed her across the living room, past a bedroom on the right (the door
was ajar), a closed door on the left and another right in front of us. She turned
and led me into a room that was a walk-in closet and unlatched another door that
opened to a terrace. I hadn’t ever been in a place like that; it felt surreal. I
realized this one, like a few others, was jutting out of the building as if
suspended in mid-air. It offered a never-ending view of the Aravallis. There were
little lights on the floor and the rain was beating down gently.
‘Wow,’ I exclaimed.
‘This is now officially my favourite place on earth,’ Cara said and, walking
straight into the rain, she spread both her arms and began to dance.
I stood there transfixed. Twirling amid the twinkling terrace lights, her bare,
wet legs gleaming, Cara looked like an ice cube inside your drink. Something
you desperately wanted inside your mouth, to roll your tongue around. I couldn’t
take my eyes off her even when she saw me gawking, and when she smiled, a
slow, dull ache began to gnaw at me. She continued dancing in the rain, moving
like the tongue of a black fire. Her wet dress clung to her like second skin,
accentuating every curve of her gorgeous body, begging to be peeled off. She
was bathed in sparkling light. The dress, now wet, was almost transparent. I
noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra. I had read somewhere that breasts were the
perfect size if they fit within the rim of a champagne saucer and that made me
smile – her breasts were beautiful and delectably large, and wouldn’t fit in any
champagne glass.
She motioned to me, asking me to join her.
‘Maybe I should get out of this, I am completely wet.’ She looked me in the
eye and pulled off her dress and stood there in the rain, in just her red panties.
I couldn’t feign indifference any more, so I walked up close to her and said,
‘Cara.’
She leaned towards me and I pulled her into my arms.
I could taste the rain on her luscious lips and when I slid my hands down her
back and squeezed her ass, she moaned. Kissing my way down her body to her
navel I went on my knees and licked her along the edge of her panties. I felt her
shiver for a delicious moment and then she yanked my head back up to her
breasts, which I gladly took in my mouth, one by one. I rolled my tongue around
her nipples, sucking and biting them lightly. She arched her body towards me
and groaned.
Suddenly she pulled away from me, whispering, ‘Wait,’ when I reached for
her, and stepped out of her panties. I tore at my clothes in a hurry to get
undressed and drew her back in my arms. With the rain gently beating down on
us, we kissed hungrily before she knelt and took me in her mouth. I was afraid
my head would explode and when she began sucking harder I couldn’t stand any
more, my knees buckled and I slid to the floor. She crawled over to me on all
fours and straddled me, taking me inside her, and began moving her hips in slow
circles. With my eyes closed to shield them from the falling rain, I was intensely
aware of every move she made, every wet slide up and down my throbbing shaft.
I cupped her breasts in my palms and kneaded them. Moaning, she quickened
her pace, and began riding me hard. I sat up and held her close as she continued
riding me. All of a sudden she stiffened, leaned back and shuddered, squeezing a
spine-shattering orgasm out of me in return.
We sat there holding each other tight, letting the rain wash away our sweat.
After what seemed a really long time, she stood up and walked into the
apartment, leaving her dress and me lying on the wet floor.
I got up after a while, gathered my clothes and started to follow her back into
the apartment. My knees felt weak getting to the door and I had to lean on the
wall for a bit. The apartment seemed even darker than when we had first entered.
Feeling my way to the fridge I took a long drink of cold water and stood there
for a while, trying to gather my thoughts. I was beginning to wonder where Cara
was, when a door opened somewhere in the apartment. When I turned around I
saw her walking towards me, naked. She came up close smelling fresh and
lemony, and gave me a hug. I threw my arms around her and kissed her slowly,
until I realized I was aroused again.
‘Hmm, someone’s awake again,’ she said.
‘You are something,’ I replied.
‘I know I am. And if you are wondering if I’ve jumped into the sack with
someone on the first date, yes, I have.’
‘I wasn’t thinking that,’ I replied, pushing her away from me so I could see her
face. We were about the same height and she stared right into my eyes, saying, ‘I
know you weren’t. But we haven’t even gone out on a date yet.’
‘That’s true.’
‘So when are you going to ask me out, you sick bastard?’ she asked, smiling.
Grinning, I leaned forward and we kissed again. It was a wet one and her
mouth was warm. She pulled back and said, ‘Come inside,’ and took me by the
hand and led me into her bedroom.
All I had time to notice was a large back-lit bed before she took my face in her
hands, and commanded, ‘Okay, do me this time, slowly. I want to feel every bit
of you.’
She lay back on the bed and spread her legs open, inviting me. I knelt between
them and began licking her.
4- Fifty Shades of Grey by E.L.Gems
“Come, let’s have a bath.” He leans down and kisses me. My heart leaps and desire pools way down low… way down there.
The bath is a white stone, deep, egg-shaped affair, very designer. Christian leans over and fills it from the faucet on the tiled wall. He pours some expensive looking bath oil into the water. It foams as the bath fills and smells of sweet sultry Jasmine. He stands and gazes at me, his eyes dark, then peels his t-shirt off and casts it on the floor.
“Miss Steele.” He holds his hand out.
I’m standing in the doorway, wide-eyed and wary, my arms wrapped around myself. I step forward while surreptitiously admiring his physique. He is just yummy. My subconscious swoons and passes out somewhere in the back of my head. I take his hand, and he bids me to step into the bath while I am still wearing his shirt. I do as I’m told. I’ll have to get used to it if I’m going to take him up on his outrageous offer… if! The water is enticingly hot.
“Turn around, face me,” he orders, his voice soft. I do as I’m bid. He’s watching me intently.
“I know that lip is delicious, I can attest to that, but will you stop biting it?” he says through clenched teeth. “You chewing it makes me want to fuck you, and you’re sore, okay?”
I gasp, automatically unlocking my lip, shocked.
“Yeah,” he challenges. “Got the picture.” He glares at me. I nod frantically. I had no idea I could affect him so.
“Good.” He reaches forward and takes my iPod out of the breast pocket, and he puts it by the sink.
“Water and iPods – not a clever combination,” he mutters. He reaches down, grasps the hem of my white shirt, lifts it above my head, and discards it on the floor.
He stands back to gaze at me. I’m naked for heaven’s sake. I flush crimson and stare down at my hands, level with the base of my belly, and I desperately want to disappear into the hot water and foam, but I know he won’t want that.
“Hey,” he summons me. I peek up at him, and his head is cocked to one side. “Anastasia, you’re a very beautiful woman, the whole package. Don’t hang your head like you’re ashamed. You have nothing to be ashamed of, and it’s a real joy to stand here and gaze at you.” He takes my chin in his hand and tilts my head up to reach his eyes. They are soft and warm, heated even. Oh my. He’s so close. I could just reach up and touch him.
“You can sit down now.” He halts my scattered thoughts, and I scoot down into the warm, welcoming water. Ooh… it stings. Which takes me by surprise, but it smells heavenly too, and the initial smarting pain soon ebbs away. I lie back and briefly close my eyes, relaxing in the soothing warmth. When I open them, he is gazing down at me.
“Why don’t you join me?” I ask, bravely I think – my voice husky.
“I think I will. Move forward,” he orders.
He strips out of his PJ pants and climbs in behind me. The water rises as he sits and pulls me against his chest. He places his long legs over mine, his knees bent and his ankles level with mine, and he pulls his feet apart, opening my legs. I gasp in surprise. His nose is in my hair and he inhales deeply.
“You smell so good, Anastasia.”
A tremor runs through my whole body. I am naked, in a bath with Christian Grey. He’s naked. If someone had told me I’d be doing this when I woke up in his hotel suite yesterday, I would not have believed them.
He reaches for a bottle of body wash from the built-in shelf beside the bath and squirts some into his hand. He rubs his hands together, creating a soft, foaming lather, and he closes his hands around my neck and starts to rub the soap into my neck and shoulders, massaging firmly with his long, strong fingers. I groan. His hands on me feel good.
“You like that?” I hear his smile.
“Hmm.”
He moves down my arms, then under them to my underarms washing gently. I’m so glad Kate insisted I shave. His hands glide across to my breasts, and I inhale sharply as his fingers encircle them and start kneading gently, taking no prisoners. My body bows instinctively, pushing my breasts into his hands. My nipples are tender. Very tender, no doubt from his less-than-delicate treatment of them last night. He doesn’t linger long and glides his hands down to my stomach and belly. My breathing increases, and my heart is racing. His growing erection presses against my behind. It’s such a turn-on knowing that it’s my body making him feel this way. Ha… not your mind. My subconscious sneers. I shake off the unwelcome thought.
He stops and reaches for a washcloth as I pant against him, wanting… needing. My hands rest on his firm, muscular thighs. Squirting more soap on to the washcloth, he leans down and washes between my legs. I hold my breath. His fingers skillfully stimulating me through the cloth, it’s heavenly, and my hips start moving at their own rhythm, pushing against his hand. As the sensations take over, I tilt my head back, my eyes rolling to the back of my head, my mouth slack, and I groan. The pressure is building slowly, inexorably inside me … oh my.
“Feel it, baby,” Christian whispers in my ear and very gently grazes my earlobe with his teeth. “Feel it for me.” My legs are pinioned by his to the side of the bath, holding me prisoner, giving him easy access to this most private part of myself.
“Oh… please,” I whisper. I try to stiffen my legs as my body goes rigid. I am in a sexual thrall to this man, and he doesn’t let me move.
“I think you’re clean enough now,” he murmurs, and he stops. What! No! No! No! My breathing is ragged.
“Why are you stopping?” I gasp.
“Because I have other plans for you Anastasia.”
What… oh my… but… I was… that’s not fair.
“Turn around. I need washing, too,” he murmurs.
Oh! Turning to face him, I’m shocked to find he has his erection firmly in his grasp. My mouth drops open.
“I want you to become well acquainted, on first name terms if you will, with my favorite and most cherished part of my body. I’m very attached to this.”
It’s so big and growing. His erection is above the water line, the water lapping at his hips. I glance up at him and come face to face with his wicked grin. He’s enjoying my astounded expression. I realize that I’m staring. I swallow. That was inside me! It doesn’t seem possible. He wants me to touch him. Hmm… okay, bring it on.
I smile at him and reach for the body wash, squirting some soap onto my hand. I do as he’s done, lathering the soap in my hands until they are foamy. I do not take my eyes off his. My lips are parted to accommodate my breathing… very deliberately I gently bite my bottom lip and then run my tongue across it, tracing where my teeth have been. His eyes are serious and dark, and they widen as my tongue skims my lower lip. I reach forward and place one of my hands around him, mirroring how he’s holding himself. His eyes close briefly. Wow… feels much firmer than I expect. I squeeze, and he places his hand over mine.
“Like this,” he whispers, and he moves his hand up and down with a firm grip round my fingers, and my fingers tighten around him. He closes his eyes again, and his breath hitches in his throat. When he opens them again, his gaze is scorching molten gray. “That’s right, baby.”
He releases my hand, leaving me to continue alone, and closes his eyes as I move up and down his length. He flexes his hips slightly into my hand and reflexively I grasp him tighter. A low groan escapes from deep within his throat. Fuck my mouth… hmm. I remember him pushing his thumb in my mouth and asking me to suck, hard. His mouth drops open slightly as his breathing increases. I lean forward, while he has his eyes closed, and place my lips around him and tentatively suck, running my tongue over the tip.
“Whoa… Ana.” His eyes fly open, and I suck harder.
Hmm… he’s soft and hard at once, like steel encased in velvet, and surprisingly tasty – salty and smooth.
“Christ,” he groans, and he closes his eyes again.
Moving down, I push him into my mouth. He groans again. Ha! My inner goddess is thrilled. I can do this. I can fuck him with my mouth. I twirl my tongue around the tip again, and he flexes his hips. His eyes are open now, blistering with heat. His teeth are clenched as he flexes again, and I push him deeper into my mouth, supporting myself on his thighs. I feel his legs tense beneath my hands. He reaches up and grabs my pigtails and starts to really move.
“Oh… baby… that feels good,” he murmurs. I suck harder, flicking my tongue across the head of his impressive erection. Wrapping my teeth behind my lips, I clamp my mouth around him. His breath hisses between his teeth, and he groans.
“Jesus. How far can you go?” he whispers.
Hmm… I pull him deeper into my mouth so I can feel him at the back of my throat and then to the front again. My tongue swirls around the end. He’s my very own Christian Grey flavor popsicle. I suck harder and harder, pushing him deeper and deeper, swirling my tongue round and round. Hmm… I had no idea giving pleasure could be such a turn-on, watching him writhe subtly with carnal longing. My inner goddess is doing the merengue with some salsa moves.
“Anastasia, I’m going to come in your mouth,” his breathy tone is warning. “If you don’t want me to, stop now.” He flexes his hips again, his eyes are wide, wary, and filled with salacious need – need for me. Need for my mouth... oh my.
Holy crap. His hands are really gripping my hair. I can do this. I push even harder and, in a moment of extraordinary confidence, I bare my teeth. It tips him over the edge. He cries out and stills, and I can feel warm, salty liquid oozing down my throat. I swallow quickly. Ugh… I’m not sure about this. But one look at him, and he’s come apart in the bath because of me, and I don’t care. I sit back and watch him, a triumphant, gloating smile tugging at the corners of my lips. His breathing is ragged. Opening his eyes, he glares at me.
“Don’t you have a gag reflex?” he asks, astonished. “Christ, Ana… that was… good, really good, unexpected though.” He frowns. “You know, you never cease to amaze me.”
I smile and consciously bite my lip. He eyes me speculatively.
“Have you done that before?”
“No.” And I can’t help the small tinge of pride in my denial.
“Good,” he says complacently and, I think, relieved. “Yet another first, Miss Steele.” He looks appraisingly at me. “Well, you get an A in oral skills. Come, let’s go to bed, I owe you an orgasm.”
Orgasm! Another one!
Quickly, he clambers out of the bath, giving me my first full glimpse of the Adonis, divinely formed, that is Christian Grey. My inner goddess has stopped dancing and is staring too, mouth open and drooling slightly. His erection tamed, but still substantial… wow. He wraps a small towel around his waist, covering the essentials, and holds out a larger fluffy white towel for me. Climbing out of the bath, I take his proffered hand. He wraps me in
the towel, pulls me into his arms, and kisses me hard, pushing his tongue into my mouth. I long to reach round and embrace him… touch him… but he has my arms trapped in the towel. I’m soon lost in his kiss. He cradles my head, his tongue exploring my mouth, and I get a sense he’s expressing his gratitude – maybe – for my first blowjob? Whoa?
He pulls away, his hands on either side of my face, staring intently into my eyes. He looks lost.
“Say yes,” he whispers fervently.
I frown, not understanding.
“To what?”
“Yes to our arrangement. To being mine. Please, Ana,” he whispers, emphasizing the last word and my name, pleading. He kisses me again, sweetly, passionately, before he stands back and stares at me, blinking slightly. He takes my hand and leads me back to his bedroom, leaving me reeling, so I follow him meekly. Stunned. He really wants this.
In his bedroom, he stares down at me as we stand by his bed.
“Trust me?” he asks suddenly. I nod, wide-eyed with the sudden realization that I do trust him. What’s he going to do to me now? An electric thrill hums through me.
“Good girl,” he breathes, his thumb brushing my bottom lip. He steps away into his closet and comes back with a silver-grey silk woven tie.
“Knit your hands together in front of you,” he orders as he peels the towel off me and throws it on the floor.
I do as he asks, and he binds my wrists together with his tie, knotting it firmly. His eyes are bright with wild excitement. He tugs at the binding. It’s secure. Some boy scout he must have been to learn these knots. What now? My pulse has gone through the roof, my heart beating a frantic tattoo. He runs his fingers down my pigtails.
“You look so young with these,” he murmurs and moves forward. Instinctively, I move back until I feel the bed against the back of my knees. He drops his towel, but I can’t take my eyes off his face. His expression is ardent, full of desire.
“Oh, Anastasia, what shall I do to you?” he whispers as he lowers me on to the bed, lying beside me, and raising my hands above my head.
“Keep your hands up here, don’t move them, understand?” His eyes burn into mine, and I’m breathless from their intensity. This is not a man I want to cross… ever.
“Answer me,” he demands, his voice soft.
“I won’t move my hands.” I’m breathless.
“Good girl,” he murmurs and deliberately licks his lips slowly. I’m mesmerized by his tongue as it sweeps slowly over his upper lip. He’s staring into my eyes, watching me, appraising. He leans down and plants a chaste, swift kiss on my lips.
“I’m going to kiss you all over, Miss Steele,” he says softly, and he cups my chin, pushing it up giving him access to my throat. His lips glide down my throat, kissing, sucking, and nipping, to the small dip at the base of my neck. My body leaps to attention… everywhere. My recent bath experience has made my skin hyper-sensitive. My heated blood pools low in my belly, between my legs, right down there. I groan.
I want to touch him. I move my hands and rather awkwardly, given I’m restrained, feel his hair. He stops kissing me and glares up at me, shaking his head from side to side, tutting as he does. He reaches for my hands and places them above my head again.
“Don’t move your hands, or we just have to start all over again,” he scolds me mildly. Oh, he’s such a tease.
“I want to touch you.” My voice is all breathy and out of control.
“I know,” he murmurs. “Keep your hands above your head,” he orders, his voice forceful.
He cups my chin again and starts to kiss my throat as before. Oh… he’s so frustrating. His hands run down my body and over my breasts as he reaches the dip at the base of my neck with his lips. He swirls the tip of his nose around it then begins a very leisurely cruise with his mouth, heading south, following the path of his hands, down my sternum to my breasts. Each one is kissed and nipped gently and my nipples tenderly sucked. Holy crap. My hips start swaying and moving of their own accord, grinding to the rhythm of his mouth on me, and I’m desperately trying to remember to keep my hands above my head.
“Keep still,” he warns, his breath warm against my skin. Reaching my navel, he dips his tongue inside, and then gently grazes my belly with his teeth. My body bows off the bed.
“Hmm. You are so sweet, Miss Steele.” His nose glides along the line between my belly and my pubic hair, biting me gently, teasing me with his tongue. Sitting up suddenly, he kneels at my feet, grasping both my ankles and spreading my legs wide.
Holy shit. He grabs my left foot, bends my knee, and brings my foot up to his mouth. Watching and assessing my every reaction, he tenderly kisses each of my toes then bites each one of them softly on the pads. When he reaches my little toe, he bites harder, and I convulse, whimpering. He glides his tongue up my instep – and I can no longer watch him. It’s too erotic. I’m going to combust. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to absorb and manage all the sensations he’s creating. He kisses my ankle and trails kisses up my calf to my knee, stopping just above. He then starts on my right foot, repeating the whole, seductive, mind-blowing process.
“Oh, please,” I moan as he bites my little toe, the action resonating deep in my belly.
“All good things, Miss Steele,” he breathes.
This time he doesn’t stop at my knee, he continues up the inside of my thigh, pushing my thighs apart as he does. And I know what he’s going to do, and part of me wants to push him off because I’m mortified and embarrassed. He’s going to kiss me there! I know it. And part of me is glorying in the anticipation. He turns to my other knee and kisses his way up my thigh, kissing, licking, sucking, and then he’s between my legs, running his nose up and down my sex, very softly, very gently. I writhe… oh my.
He stops, waiting for me to calm. I do and raise my head to gaze at him, my mouth open as my pounding heart struggles to come out.
“Do you know how intoxicating you smell, Miss Steele?” he murmurs, and keeping his eyes on mine, he pushes his nose into my pubic hair and inhales.
I flush scarlet, everywhere, feeling faint, and I instantly close my eyes. I can’t watch him do that!
He blows gently up the length of my sex. Oh fuck…
“I like this.” He gently tugs at my pubic hair. “Perhaps we’ll keep this.”
“Oh… please,” I beg.
“Hmm, I like it when you beg me, Anastasia.”
I groan.
“Tit for tat is not my usual style, Miss Steele,” he whispers as he gently blows up and down me. “But you’ve pleased me today, and you should be rewarded.” I hear the wicked grin in his voice, and while my body is singing from his words, his tongue starts to slowly circle my clitoris as his hands hold down my thighs.
“Aargh!” I moan as my body bows and convulses at the touch of his tongue.
He swirls his tongue round and round, again and again, keeping up the torture. I’m losing all sense of self, every atom of my being concentrating hard on that small, potent powerhouse at the apex of my thighs. My legs go rigid, and he slips his finger inside me, and I hear his growling groan.
“Oh, baby. I love that you’re so wet for me.”
He moves his finger in a wide circle, stretching me, pulling at me, his tongue mirroring his actions, round and round, I groan. It is too much… My body begs for relief, and I can no longer deny it. I let go, losing all cogent thought as my orgasm seizes me, wringing my insides again and again. Holy fuck. I cry out, and the world dips and disappears from view as the force of my climax renders everything null and void.
I am panting and vaguely hear the rip of foil. Very slowly he eases into me and starts to move. Oh… my. The feeling is sore and sweet, and bold and gentle all at once.
“How’s this?” he breathes.
“Fine. Good,” I breathe. And he really starts to move, fast, hard, and large, thrusting into me over and over, implacable, pushing me and pushing me until I am close to the edge again. I whimper.
“Come for me, baby.” His voice is harsh, hard, raw at my ear, and I explode around him as he pounds rapidly into me.
“Thank fuck,” he whispers, and he thrusts hard once more and groans as he reaches his climax, pressing himself into me. Then he stills, his body rigid.
Collapsing on top of me, I feel his full weight forcing me into the mattress. I pull my tied hands over his neck and hold him the best I can. I know in that moment that I would do anything for this man. I am his. The wonder that he’s introduced me to, it’s beyond anything I could have imagined. And he wants to take it further, so much further, to a place I can’t, in my innocence, even imagine. Oh… what to do?
He leans up on his elbows and stares down at me, gray eyes intense.
“See how good we are together,” he murmurs. “If you give yourself to me, it will be so much better. Trust me, Anastasia, I can take you places you don’t even know exist.” His words echo my thoughts. He strokes his nose against mine. I am still reeling from my extraordinary physical reaction to him, and I gaze up at him blankly, grasping for a coherent thought.
