Hands Free Orgasm NC-17 Porn Alert Cosmopolis and Fanfic Surviving Bella

"Eric looked directly into Jane's face. He liked doing this, which surprised him....A splash of hair lay moist and flat on her forehead, showing the first faint veining of gray. The water bottle dangled from a lank hand.

She did not recede from his gaze. She made complete eye contact. ..He wanted to lick the sweat off the inside of her wrist...

When Nevius did the finger, it was in and out in seconds. Ingram was probing for some murky fact. Jane was the fact. She had the bottle in her crotch, knees flopped outward now, and watched him. ... Something passed between them, deeply, a sympathy beyond the standard meanings... some vast sexus of arousal drawing hi toward her, complicatedly, with Ingram's finger up his ass....

You grip the water bottle.

It's that soft type plastic.

You grip it. You choke it.

It's a matter of fact thing.

It's sexual tension.

It's everyday nervousness in a life.

It's sexual tension....

Eric put on the glasses....

My mood shifts and bends.  But when I'm alive and heightened, I'm super acute. Do you know what I see when I look at you? I see a woman who wants to live shamelessly in her body. Tell me this is not the truth. You want to follow your body  into idleness and fleshiness.  That's why you have to run, to escape the drift of your basic nature. Tell me I'm making it up. You can't do that. It's there in your face, all of it, the way it rarely shows in any face. What do I see? Something lazy, sexy and insatiable....

This is the woman you are inside the life. Looking at you what? I'm more excited than I've been since the first burning nights of adolescent frenzy. Excited and confused. I look at you and feel an erection stirring even as the situation argues strenuously against it...

I look at you and feel electric. Tell me you don't feel it too. ...I know what you are. You are sloppy-bodied, smelly and wet. A woman who was born to sit strapped in a chair while a man tells her how much she excites him....

Sex finds us out. Sex sees through us. That's why it's so shattering. It strips us of appearances. I see a near naked woman in her exhaustion and need, stroking a plastic bottle pressed between her thighs. Am I honor-bound to think of her as an executive and a mother? She sees a man in a posture of rank humiliation. ...

He could think and speak of other things but only within the pain.     He was living in the gland, in the scalding fact of his biology...

Days like this. He snaps a finger and a flame shoots up. Every sensitivity, all his attunements. Things are ready to happen that normally never do. She knows what he means, that they don't even have to touch. The same thing that's happening to him is happening to her. She doesn't need to crawl under the table and suck his dick. Too trite to interest either one of them. The flow is strong between them. The emotional tone. Let it express itself. He sees her in her wallow and feels his pelvic muscles begin to quiver. He says, Tell me to stop and I'll stop." But he doesn't wait for her to reply. There isn't time. The tails of his sperm cells are lashing already.  She is his sweetheart and lover and slut undying. He doesn't have to do the unspeakable thing he wants to do. He only has to speak it. Because they're beyond every model of established behavior. He only has to say the words.

Jane:Say the words. 

Eric:I want to bottle-fuck you slowly with my sunglasses on....

Cronenberg better leave this scene in or he's a fucking coward.

Cronenberg is not a fucking coward.

Surviving Bella by Savage

In Savage's Surviving Bella the ship has sunk and Edward and Bella are on a raft running out of food and water. The long slow time resonates with:

hung liu mu nu painting

Life of Pi by Yann Martel 

Death is still on the raft as well. But the feel of endless time and the nearness of death is equally tense in both. Sex is palpable in Savage's Surviving Bella and this Edward, after finding out Bella has never had an orgasm with Jacob, her first and only boyfriend, Edward propositions her:

"I could do it, you know," I heard myself say. My voice had dropped down low, but I knew she still heard me. I could hear her breathing increase over the soft lapping of waves against the edge of the raft. I leaned over only a little, bringing my mouth closer to her ear. "I could make you come without even touching you." (chapter 7)

"So fucking sexy," I murmured, daring to get close to her ear again. "Are you wet, Bella?"
"Yes…"
"Tell me how wet you are."
"Oh, God…Edward…"
"Pinch your nipple again," I told her. "Rub your thumb over your clit. That's it, around in a circle."
Sweat appeared on her forehead, and though the back of my mind registered the loss of water as important, watching her finger herself was just too incredible to even consider telling her to stop. She could have my water. She could have all the fucking water. As long as I got to watch this, I could keel over right now and be perfectly content.

"Move that finger in and out, Bella," I continued. I was sure she was getting close. "Roll your nipple with your thumb and finger…good…there ya go…so hot…all I can think about is my cock being in there. I can almost feel it sliding up into you, just like your fingers are now. Curl them up, Bella. Curl your fingers up toward your clit – like you were trying to touch your thumb to your fingers through your body – and push down with your thumb…"
Bella let out a soft groan, and I blew across her ear once more.....(chapter 9)

There's more before and after this excerpt.

The rule by Baudrillard: If you are going to write about seduction then your writing must be more seductive than what you are writing about.

Walter Benjamin: The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction

Benjamin's 1936 The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction on Dadaism:

Illuminations

One of the foremost tasks of art has always been the creation of a demand which could not be fully satisfied only later.... The Dadaists attached much less importance to the sales value of their work than to its uselessness for contemplative immersion. (Illuminations 237)

.... Dadaists became an instrument of ballistics. It hit the spectator like a bullet, it happened to him, thus acquiring a tactile quality. It promoted a demand for the film, the distracting element of which is also primarily tactile, being based on changes of place and focus which periodically assail the spectator. Let us compare the screen on which a film unfolds with the canvas of a painting. The painting invites the spectator to contemplation; before it the spectator can abandon himself to his associations. Before the movie frame he cannot do so. No sooner has his eye grasped a scene than it is already changed. It cannot be arrested. Duhamel, who detests the film and knows nothing of its significance, though something of its structure, notes this circumstance as follows: "I can no longer think what I want to think. My thoughts have been replaced by moving images." (Duhamel, Scenes la vie future, 1930 p. 52) The spectator's process of association in view of these images is indeed interrupted by their constant, sudden change. This constitutes the shock effect of the film, which, like all shocks, should be cushioned by heightened presence of mind. (I p. 238)

Benjamin does not note here that the destruction of memory is a consequence. Memory requires time for contemplation, a quality of time not too slow and not too fast. Just right as Goldilocks would say.

In the decline of middle class society, contemplation became a school for asocial behavior; it was countered by distraction as a variant of social conduct. (I p. 238)

New Moon

Distraction and contemplation form polar opposites. (I p.239) And we are aware how Meyer has used the concept distraction any number of times in Twilight. Vampires are easily distracted. Bella is not. Until she is a vampire.

What might all this have to say about ADHD or ADD if there is a difference? Are we reinforcing and provoking shifting attention spans?

The Tree of Life by Terrence Malick is pure contemplation. It is also true that his films have not been blockbusters, although they all have been critical successes in one way or another. Malick is an artist first. He makes the films he wants to make.

He is far more than an auteur director. He is a consummate artist of film in our time. He is preserving contemplation as a way of thinking and he is introducing it to those who have not experienced it before: The distractable ones, the ones who tend to walk out on this film. The ones who find it excruciating and

The Tree of Life Terrence Malick

boring. The ones who hate it. The ones who would have hated the Meadow Scene as Meyer wrote it. The ones who have probably never watched a Bergman film. And what Rob Pattinson's fans love about him without knowing is his intensity in contemplation, his way of gazing at a person and really seeing them, not a distracted flicking of the eyes. And by consuming every single banal image floating globally the fans are destroying their ability to contemplate him. They are just flicking their eyes down and across a myriad of images on a screen.

Here's DeLillo:

He stood a while longer, watching a single gull lift and ripple in a furl of air, admiring the bird, thinking into it, trying to know the bird, feeling the sturdy earnest beat of its scavenger's ravenous heart. (C p. 7)

Didi: Don't you see yourself in every picture you love? You feel a radiance wash through you. It's something you can't analyze or speak about clearly. What are you doing at that moment? You're looking at a picture on a wall. That's all. But it makes you feel alive in the world. It tells you yes, you're here. And yes, you have a range of being that's deeper and sweeter than you knew. ( p.30)

He watched her. He didn't think he wanted to be surprised, even by a woman, this woman, who'd taught him how to look, how to feel enchantment damp on his face, the melt of pleasure inside a brushstroke or band of color. (C p. 3)

Rob Pattinson as Eric Packer

My mood shifts and bends. But when I'm alive and heightened, I'm super-acute. Do you know what I see when I look at you? I see a woman who wants to live shamelessly in her body. Tell me this is not the truth. You want to follow your body into idleness and fleshiness. .... Tell me I'm making it up. You can't do that. It's there in your face, all of it, the way it rarely shows in any face.  (C 49)

Jane Melman:Pull back. I am advising you in this matter not only as your chief of finance but as a woman who would still be married to her husbands if they had looked at her the way you have looked at me here today. (C 34)

Rob Pattinson as Eric Packer