Sex Part II: The Act, Itself by arc-ician on DeviantArt

50% off for a limited time!

Get Core

Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

Get Help and Send Feedback

This deviation has been labeled as containing themes not suitable for all deviants.

Deviation Actions

arc-ician

Published: Nov 10, 2006

22.4K Views

Literature Text

This content is unavailable.

Ticket to the moon

vishstudio

$12.50

1000

Download

More by arc-ician

Literature

Firefly - Serenity Fanfic

It had been a good day in the life of the crew on Serenity. They'd just finished a less than optional job presented to them from the psychotic low-life known to them as Badger - a simple smash and grab, but with more security than an Alliance hospital on Ariel or a personal floating island. Of course, it was an Alliance-controlled building hiding personal profiles on all known criminals in the sector, so security was bound to be tighter than the anal sphincter of an aristocratic millionaire. Figuratively speaking. Serenity was docked in a safe locale a half a league out of town and, as was the custom, Wash, Simon and River stayed aboard w

Recommended Literature

Literature

SEX

This poem is about sex. (yeah, that got your attention) This poem is about sex. This poem is about love. This poem is about living in your sexuality instead of being afraid of it. This poem is about saying “fuck you” to everyone who told you it’s wrong. It’s dirty. It’s shameful. This poem is about the sin so natural it takes you to heaven on earth. This poem is about turning the key, finding your voice, making your own choice. This poem is about independence, decision, instead of buying into all their misery. Honestly. “Abstinence class” 150 pages of health text book telling you “

Literature

sex

two people completely connected feeling incredible senses everything else leaves their minds for that short momemt in time all you feel is this incredible pleasure all you want is for this feeling to remain and it is so hard to contain so you moan and scream nothing in the world feels as good it seems like a dream as it gets harder and faster you get to feeling like you are in completely ecstasy you begin to hear a beat, a melody you may slow it down and change positions but all of it is so delicious bodies become sweaty and moist all over and dirty wetness is so wonderful the intensity becomes stronger it won't last much l

Literature

Sex Object

Between her legs, lies something that every man seems to want. A place where she should be able to call her own, between her legs. She feels that men only want her, a true want, to have sex with her, and walk away. The breasts she has, they gain stares from men passing by, tripping over themselves to find a chance to touch. When will she stop being looked at, as an object of sex? when will a man see her as someone he may spend his life with? Her hips curve, and she doesnt want your hands on them, if your just going to touch her skin. She wants a man to touch her soul, not just touch her skin, and run his

Suggested Collections

Journal and Literature

Literature

Squid-Cano (Commission)

Squidward was unhappy, unhappier than usual. Spongebob knew it too. The bright yellow square was out singing one morning when Squidward opened his window, letting out a large breath sigh. "Will you keep it down?" Squidward's tone was softer. Spongebob glanced up at the window, pausing for a moment. Spongebob thought he'd know what would cheer him up. A song! Of course, a song could help him! Spongebob broke out into song, but Squidward was not having it. Squidward shut his window, being locked in his quiet house, alone with his thoughts once again. Spongebob's loud tone went away. Every time Squidward was angry Spongebob tried t

Literature

Song

Solitary confinement is a curse of the limited Said the man on his own with a coffee and a primitive desire to be oh so bordered and tired But I still think we're social even when we're stuck in briars But a rose is a fortune in world crammed with ego But the thorn is a reminder that we frown in the photo And bow our pretty heads between bites of fallafel And we curse our rotten luck that we lost in the raffle So we drink to remain aloof and of purpose And we throw it to the floor as it's a hurricane in a wine glass But the problem I have is when I sit by summer fires The smoke brings me silence and it makes me a liar So I pick apart my brai

Literature

My speech to God when I die and is real

Warning: This is me criticising the Christian God. ___________________________________________________________________________________________________ Here I stand before you, the one who created everything, the all-loving father, who sacrificed his son for our sins. I come before you, not to say that I am sorry or not to say that I was wrong. No, I come before you to criticize you. You, who would let a man who killed 10 people into Heaven because he begged for forgiveness, yet would cast those to Hell for all eternity, not because they murdered, but because they didn’t believe in you. You, who would let a man who left a nation to

Poetry that moves me

Literature

split second

For a split second I was able to taste the sun and drown in the eyes of a mutual understanding

Literature

exhale

Deep beneath the sighs and sudden spurts of breathing in chilled air I know there are still pieces that lie livid but seemingly fade with each exhale

Literature

facing

Sometimes it takes facing a void of nothingness to appreciate being able to get up to accomplish even the little things

Poetry

Literature

[9]

nine times out of ten my days are long and my nights l o n g e r as I fill the empty space beside me with cigarette smoke and desperate glances hoping /somebody/ would be standing there when I open my eyes-- and I hate it. like a homesick moth drawn to an unhealthy flame, I gravi tate to the warmth of your o u t s t r e t c h e d hand only to wake up at eight o’clock on a Tuesday evening with burns on my palms and ashes on my tongue; sometimes I feel like i’m just a hopeless joker caught up in a game of caustic kings && quintessential queens with only a sev

Literature

I Am Me

Male, Female These are just words Both, Neither These are possibilities Why does our culture categorize us without even knowing us? I don't need to be male or female. I am me. I can be both, one, or neither. I am me. What is or isn't on my chest or in my pants means nothing. I am me. Love me, or hate me. I am me.

Literature

Bi

So I like girls What's the big deal? If I tell my parents Their hearts may never heal? Should I really be concerned? Should I even care? If I don't let them know I'd be choking on air Yeah I like girls But I like guys too For now I'm stuck in a rut What am I to do? I seem in-denial 'Cause that's what people want to hear It's shoved down my throat I can barely even smile

More by arc-ician

arc-ician on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/arc-ician/art/Fat-Charlie-and-Chase-II-55782493arc-ician

arc-ician on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/arc-ician/art/The-Odachi-47323760arc-ician

arc-ician on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/arc-ician/art/The-Dawn-of-Darkness-52367318arc-ician

arc-ician on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/arc-ician/art/Fireskull-Version-1-2-40443710arc-ician

arc-ician on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/arc-ician/art/Aah-Me-Eye-56649095arc-ician

arc-ician on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/arc-ician/art/Near-the-Flume-56658135arc-ician

arc-ician on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/arc-ician/art/12-String-Acoustic-48071882arc-ician

arc-ician on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/arc-ician/art/Who-Me-57007053arc-ician

I decided while writing this to turn it into, at least, a two part series. Starting with foreplay and then sex, itself and possibly making it a trilogy and having a "coming back down" part. A cuddling before falling into sleep... something a bit more on the sweet, tender side than the lustful side.

Here's part one: [link]

Mature