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Content Warning: The following node contains strong sexual imagery. Not appropriate for prudes, puritans, or children.

Good morning lover,

The last time we were together you did things to me, you fired things deep inside me—things that I never thought were possible. The Hindu mystics envisioned a snake, the kundalini shakti, tightly coiled around the base of the spine. I think of it more like a big dragon, deep in the back of the brain where sex hits us. Let me explain what I mean:

There is a molecule which your body makes. It is that pheromone trace that makes you smell like you. It originates deep inside your body and permeates your bloodstream, your flesh, your fluids...every part of you is awash in this magical perfume. It exits through every pore, it clings to your clothing, your skin, your lips...I can taste it in your saliva when I kiss you and I can smell it on your breath.

I hold you in my arms, smelling your hair. My senses are bombarded by that pheromone. It hits me in a place that came into existence long before sight or hearing existed, a primal, dark cavern deep inside me. My tongue moves over your throat, down your collarbone, to your underarm. Tiny receptors deep inside my nasal cavity pick up that molecule and transfer it directly to the Dragon. This is his food. The Dragon stirs in the darkness.

I suck your dark nipples and they harden to the touch of my tongue. The molecule exhales from them, it's strong here. There is a light burning in the depths of my nose, somewhere under my eyes, as the pheromone does its magic. I feel your body shiver as my mouth traces down your belly.

Deep in my skull, the Dragon snaps awake, fiery eyes opening, his tail wrapped tightly around the base of my brain.

I bury my face in your sex. That elusive substance takes over my mind—coming from the deepest fibres of your being into the dark places of my brain. I am treated to your heat and scent, the flavour of you, the slippery heat on my tongue and fingers. Your hips move under my face and my hands in a dance that is as old as life. Your gasps, the tension in your muscles, your heat tell me the story of your climaxes, read with my fingertips, lips, and tongue.

And the molecule—it travels deep inside my head, into the Dragon's chamber. Like a key opening a lock, the chains fall away. Rules have no meaning here—the beast is freed. The power surges from the soft sweet depths of your flesh directly into the pre-human, pre-verbal parts of me that are the Dragon. I willingly give him full free reign. He breaks loose and shuts down my forebrain with all its trappings of civilized society—all our words and our maths and our planning, all those unnecessary frills—all tucked neatly away, leaving the Dragon in full control.

We come together and I watch as though in a dream. My skin crackles with lust, I feel electricity from every point of my body as I plunge inside you. My every organ, every fibre of me trembles with the need for you, the craving to take charge of you, to make you mine...to make you happy. The rest of the universe fades and there is only us, just two beasts in rut. At that instant, your soft moans are more beautiful than the most exquisite violin sonata and your taste is sweeter than brandy.

The Dragon wants you, and in a corner of my brain, cozily freed from the need for politeness and decorum, I let him have his way with you, using my body to take you with every iota of my strength. As my orgasm grows, I feel safe, enfolded deep inside your love. I am warm and accepted. The Dragon thrashes and I cry out your name, again and again. He sinks his claws in deep and for an instant, a beautiful eternity, there is nothing in the universe but this amazing woman I love...and our shared pleasure and joy.

Until next time, my love...

colpocoquette (KAHL-puh-koh-KET) (plural colpocoquettes)
A woman who knows she has an attractive bosom and makes good use of its allure. Often for personal gain with heterosexual men.

Colpocoquette is a French derivation and serves as an English noun.

"A 'coquette' in French is a girl that pays a whole lot of attention to her appearance in order to lure men. By extension, a coquette is one who usually flaunts her breasts. Now one can also link colpocoquette with -colpo- which in Italian is 'a blow, a shock which makes a strong impression.' It is the Latin root of the French word "coup." In Italian we also say 'colpo d'occhio' when a men glances at a woman's breasts..." (Mouesh)

Porn Star Aria Giovanni is a great example of colpocoquette, for a picture click:
http://word.oftheday.com.au/userimages/user756_1147320218.jpg

Use
Here's the sad part. If you actually have the sexual nerve to call a woman a colpocoquette, it just sounds like an insult, no way you're going to get between that bosom. That is, unless you have the ability to pass off the French accent. But at that point, it wouldn't matter what words you were speaking, you'll get some any way.

Scenario One
"Hello. My name is insert name here, you're a colpocoquette."

"Why yes I am. This will cost you a hundred dollars."

It seems that if the girl knows what the word actually means, they're probably apt to be one. Further, if they are one, it's not free boobies for you. They're in it for "personal gain" remember?

Scenario Two
"Hello colpocoquette."

"Wtf did you just call me?

You might as well just say nice breasts when you walk up to an ample bosom'd woman...

Random
Colpocoquette has 13 letters, creating 11 other words from the same ordered letters but chopped up, and has no straight up anagrams. Longest word derived from the ordered letters is coquet.

Apparently Colpocoquette is a popular username for blogging, among other things. I just hope the users are females...


Sources:
http://www.serve.com/hecht/words/rare.htm
http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/colpocoquette


A truck hit me today as I rode home on the bus
not the whole bus, just me

Out of the blue I thought of you
the way your body moves in the middle of the night:

Shoulders, arms and hands
strong quiet movements

Breathless, I had to grab the elderly lady next to me
so I did not fall out of my seat

She was a mind reader apparently, as she
blushed

Ours used to be Hemingway, till we found out
it sounded too much like "help me"
with the ball gag in.

I'll put something in your hand, he says,
and you can just drop it if we go too far,
if something goes wrong.

A coin, something that'd clatter.
Oh, great idea, honey--
it's just too bad the bedroom's carpeted.

How about humming? he proposes.
You can hum Happy Birthday.
Is that really the best idea we've got?

Well, it's the best idea I've got, he barks.
I'm at the end of my rope here, kiddo.
Maybe we should just stick to missionary.

Cryptography as an erotic art.

From the Chambers Dictionary of Etymology:

  1. crypto: "a combining form meaning 1) hidden, secret. also 2) secret, disguised, not open or acknowledged... From the Greek kryptos secret, hidden
  2. -graphy: "a combining form meaning 1) process of tracing, describing, writing, or recording... From the Greek -graphia, from graphein draw, write
  3. erotic: of sexual desire, from Greek erotikos related to love, desire.

While cryptography has come to be thought of as a primarily military and diplomatic tool (and a hot right-to-privacy issue in societies whose citizens have easy desktop access to powerful cryptographic systems), there was a time when it was applied more to poetry and philosophy than politics - while still serving an imminently practical function:

  1. lovers throughout history have engaged in encrypted correspondence.
  2. ancient artisans, craftsmen, and early scientists endeavored to exercise an early form of intellectual property protection using cryptographic systems of their own divising.
  3. mystics and occultists sought to simultaneously propagate and guard their revelations using cryptographic systems that leveraged their unique vision of the metaphysical world.
  4. and Victor sent his heart's wish across the centuries.

But this node is dedicated to the lovers. Put your Zippos up in the air.

Those interested in learning more about 2. and 3. are encouraged to check out The Codebreakers by David Kahn, the definitive history of cryptography.

In Classical Greece

Ovid's Art of Love describes a few methods to hide unencrypted writing; write in new milk, he says, and your lover will read what you have written after blowing coal dust across the page. He also recommends writing the letter on a page lying on top of a fresh sheet, and then sending the fresh and unmarked sheet to the lover. Again, coal dust will reveal the indentions of the writing. Apparently, this was an old trick when Nancy Drew's stardust was still a sparkle in the sky.

Erotic Cryptography in the Kama Sutra

The Kama Sutra lists secret writing as one of the 64 arts, or yogas, that women should know and practice. There are two types of this art, called mlecchita-vikalpa. The first is kautilyam, in which letter substitutions are determined by phonetic relationships (consonants become vowels, etc.). The second is muladeviya, a reciprocal alphabet with a=b arbitrary exchanges of one letter for another. Letters written in mlecchita-vikalpa safeguarded communications between lovers, permitted written invitations to dangerous liasons to be made, and perhaps most erotically - created a kind of secret language shared exclusively by the lovers.

In the Court of the Shining Prince

Japanese interest in calligraphy and letter writing peaked during the Heian Era, during which time the two classic tales of sensuality and writing (The Tale of Genji and The Pillow Book) were written. In Heian imperial court culture, overt expressions of passion or romance were considered coarse and uncouth. Heian love letters were therefore written in exfoliating code, with the lover"s true meaning and intent held between lotus petal layers of signifier and signified. The intellect, aesthetic, and senses were all to be engaged in both the writing and the reading of the letter, and all three were required for a complete and successful cryptanalysis on the receiving end.

The first aspect of the letter to be read was the tactile and physical; the very paper upon which it was written had signifying power. The thickness, size, design, and color of the paper all conveyed meaning - as well as the season of the year and even the time of day in which it was written. Next, the paper would be folded in a symbolically significant style, or rolled. Depending on the recipient, the paper would be tightly rolled or loosely furled, in correspondence with the degree of intimacy expressed in the letter. A branch or blossom would also be attached to the letter. This item was a preview for the general mood of the letter (or of the poem which was undoubtably contained within it). For example, a lover might melt the snow off of a cherry branch with his breath (while not letting it touch his lips) to convey his hopeful longing.

The content of the letter was equally as intricate as the crafting of the letter itself. Dense literary allusions, complex metaphors, and nested references predominated. If the recipient was too dense or poorly-read to decipher the lover's letter, the affair would be very short-lived, in an interesting take on Darwinism in action. Mimetics were also employed, with calligraphic characters similar in appearance being used to convey double meaning. And yet, the most important encoding was read within the author's handwriting. The visual character of the script itself was seen as revealing the true nature of the writer. To fall in love with someone's handwriting was not at all uncommon.

And What About Today?

Compared to the literate labors of love in these examples from the history of erotic cryptography, there's something a little hollow about simply exchanging PGP keys.

Invest in some hand-rolled parchment, Venetian stationery, or the simple elegance of a thick sheaf of Crane correspondence paper. Buy some J. Herbin ink (la perle des encres, mais oui), and a quality fountain pen – or even better, a truly old-fashioned nib-and-inkwell pen, to really experience the tactility of the paper. If it has a quill at the top, so much the better - although there are very nice ones that have better balance and heft available in fine stationery stores. Light a candle. Listen to some music for your mood. Call up the image of your beloved in your mind's eye.

Then all you have to do is let your intellect, emotions, and spirit course through your body, down your arm, and into the shining silver point of your pen. And remember – writing your love is like making angels visible, turning spirit into flesh, and extending the moment of a kiss into eternity.

Whether or not you and your sweetheart choose to involve the cryptanalysis wheel is, of course, entirely up to you.