Solace

@attentionundressed.bsky.social

Literary erotica, poetic longing, and the trouble of not being born into 1930s artistic-psychoanalytic bohemian scene.

He was leering at me from across the room. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, feeling naked beneath his gaze. I could almost sense his fingertips boring into me, his tongue piercing me, then dragging heavily along my slit. My sex dripped with its own offering. #DiaryFragment

He was calm and receptive as I tried to recover from the hitching sobs that arrived so quickly. He ran his hands over my bare shoulders, whispering gentle words— watching intently as I stroked myself, working the force of my sobs into pleasure until it crested, relaxing me. #DiaryFragment

The gentle kiss of his cock at the edge of me, my body waking with the turbulence of him slipping through my veil, as I pull him deep into the chasm of my vastness, his loving vigor reaching toward life’s source— drawing from the well of what it means to feel alive with one another. #poetry

Glossy, slightly parted lips with a glimpse of front teeth visible through a sheer, dotted lace veil, creating a soft, intimate, dreamy mood.

I silently curse the niceties and social conventions that stop him from telling me exactly what he wants. Loathe the thought of being branded improper if I lifted my dress, exposing myself to him, presuming he would innately understand what I was asking for. #DiaryFragment

A woman in a flowing ivory gown lifts the skirt with one hand, revealing bare feet as she steps forward—soft, painterly tones highlight delicate fabric, gentle movement, and quiet, graceful elegance.

I don’t know how much space I occupy in his mind, if any at all, beyond our occasional encounters. Those exchanges leave me warm, glowing for hours afterward. I take them to bed with me, my hand drowning in my own heat. His caution, his careful containment becoming maddening. #DiaryFragment

Slightly parted lips in close-up showing natural texture and subtle sheen, with a finger touching the mouth’s corner, conveying intimacy and softness.

I want to be beneath your hands, to feel the weight of all your being pressed down upon me. These images, dreamt up from somewhere else— burned into me, flushing my skin, and I wonder if somehow we are dreaming this together. #poetry

He didn’t like getting involved with people. He didn’t enjoy connecting with them or getting his hopes up. But he liked watching me touch myself in front of him. And when he finally gave in to me, he kissed my sex so lovingly, I could only imagine how deeply he must have been hurt. #DiaryFragment

I called it intuition—what else could explain why I so willingly obeyed a man I’d never met? He’d held my gaze from across the room, then gestured for me to follow. My body burned as I slipped through the crowd after him, wondering what, exactly, I was getting myself into. #Vss365 #DiaryFragment