Posts Tagged ‘love scenes.’

Any story, whether it be book or film, needs a good love scene. From the shocking, first ever film kiss in, The Kiss (1896!) to Basic Instinct and Fifty Shades of Grey, storylines need romance or (soft) sex.

But what used to be considered X-rated now seem the norm. Full frontals and realistic love making are nothing new in movies today, which leaves little to the imagination. At least with a book you can visualize what he or she might look like (naked) or what they might be doing (having sex?). I wonder what’s left to give-up in cinema?

What makes a good love scene? That depends on what you are looking for. Obviously some people want the tell-all kind of story and others want the Jane Austin lead up to sex, which are truly ‘love scenes’. It’s knowing what is going to happen through the buildup. Very titillating.

Take 9 1/2 Weeks. That blindfolded ice scene could make anybody squirm. And when Vasili and Tania finally fall into each other’s arms on the dirty floor of the underground bunker in, Enemy at the Gates, it was breathtakingly passionate. You’ll find yourself drawn to the questionable but undeniable desire in The Lover or Y Tu Mamá También.

In 1954, Anne Descios (under the pen name, Pauline Réage) shocked the literary scene with, The Story of O, while Jane Austin’s Pride and Prejudice remains the ultimate, timeless love story. Diana Gabaldon’s, Outlander, is a big contender in the ultimate love story genre, as is The Notebook, by Nickolas Sparks.  

Whether you are a fan of the more erotic and explicit, or prefer tender romance and ‘love conquers all’, we each have our favourite books and films, and there are far too many to name.

Share yours with us in the comments section and tell us why you love it. We want to hear from you!

 

Titillating Tuesday

Posted on: November 15th, 2016 by Madison Lake No Comments

Excerpt from the chapter Arousal in Willow Wisp, book three of a series

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Proberta and Brawn didn’t find their aging affected their sexual appetites. If anything, things between the sheets—or other places—got better as time passed. They grew to know each other’s bodies well and rather than get bored, they discovered new sweet spots and found different ways to find pleasure with each other. Just as they had done in the early days when Proberta stayed as a guest in Brawn’s hut, they’d sneak off to the woods to make soft, sensual love among the mossy beds of the forest floor. Other times, when they knew no one was around, Brawn would press his wife up against the kitchen counter, his burly arms holding her fast. He’d lift her skirts, lower her pantaloons and eagerly thrust inside her warm and waiting opening. Both enjoyed gentle lovemaking as much as the heightened arousal from rough and tumble sex, and knew they would continue till their dying days.

It was one of these balmy afternoons when, after an intensely passionate roll in the hay, a knock came at the door. Brawn went to answer, hoping to get rid of whoever was there so he and his wife could continue with their lusty frolicking. There stood a tall, handsome young man with a muscular jawline, large blue eyes and a very blond hair tied back in a neat ponytail. He was dressed like a gentleman; tweed jacket and neckerchief, tall brown leather boots, woolen knickers, but his handshake was strong and firm, his palms and knuckles calloused from heavy work. It left Brawn wondering who in the world this fellow could be.

“Hello good chap. What are you doing in these parts, and what is it I can do for you?”

“Greetings to you, good Sir. You are Brawn from the forest glen, are you not?”

“That is right. I am that man. And how is it you know me?”

“I do not know you, Sir. But you have an excellent reputation in these parts. I am from the north and have come looking for work. The bartender at the local pub was kind enough to give me your name and send me here.”

Brawn looked the lad over and thought about what he said. It was true, he knew his reputation was solid in the community, but he was a little surprised that Docket would give away his personal information, in particular where he lived, to a stranger, regardless his station in life.

“Excuse me for prying, but you don’t seem the type cut out for woodsman’s work dressed in your high class clothes and all.” With this the young man laughed.

“I clean up well, Sir.” He winked. “Besides, one must look presentable when seeking work, no matter what kind of work one is after.” This time Brawn laughed too. He opened the door and welcomed the young man inside.

“Name’s Heath. Jeremiah Heath.” Jeremiah took a seat at the table and after putting the kettle on to boil for tea, Brawn sat across from him. “Excuse me for saying so, but I have never seen a man boil water for tea before. It’s quite different where I come from. The woman does those tasks.”

“Actually, I believe it’s quite different in this small community than in most places. We are our own people here.” Brawn paused and rubbed his scruffy chin with his calloused fingers. “Don’t get me wrong. We’re educated and mannered and love our family more than anything else, but I guess you’d say we have our own set of rules on how to live, that’s all.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve heard all about you folks. Why else do you think I sought you out?”

At this point Proberta came out of the bedroom, fastening her apron around her small waist.

“I thought I heard a commotion. Who’s this come calling and waking up our afternoon?” Her face glowed with the pinch of recent passion—rosy cheeks and a wide smile.