Where art thou, theothernilu?
I write this post partly because I am belatedly holding up my end of a deal. I had challenged theothernilu to write an erotic post about that August individual Dwayne Leverock. She said she would, but in exchange I had to write a post about her. She held up her end of the bargain a month back. I dilly-dallied. But hey, I dilly-dally a lot. I still haven't posted the answers to the quiz or the second half of Sakharam Gatne. Anywhich, better late than never. But as I said earlier (sorry, Deirdre/Donald McClosky), holding up my end of the deal is only part of the reason.
I write this because theothernilu has not written too much on RH recently. Which means that any writing which can be construed as being erotica is left solely in the hands of Nilu. And then we end up getting drivel like this - She was wet. Entering her required a lot of effort. I closed my eyes. Now I have no problems with under-sexed quasi-virgins. Some of my best friends are under-sexed quasi-virgins. But if you want to be a u-s q-v and still write erotica, you better have some kick-ass imagination. Graeme Smith and Sachin Tendulkar are both essentially batsmen who do not practice bowling in the nets. Yet, when Tendulkar bowls, he frequently produces something magical because of his imagination and creativity. Smith's bowling is so pathetic, I suspect the only reason he bowls is to show the world that captaincy isn't the thing he does worst.
When Nilu writes about sex, it invokes so much pity, that all his readers will readily contribute to the "Send Nilu To Amsterdam For Some Paid Sex Fund" just so that he gets a fucking clue about the subject.
Theothernilu however is an artist. She has imagination, she has creativity, and she can weave erotica literally out of anything. Even in her shortest posts, there is a story of delicious richness. Her erotica has as many tiny nuances as good sex. And she has been missing from RH for a while.
Where art thou, TON? Come back, for fuck's sake!
I write this because theothernilu has not written too much on RH recently. Which means that any writing which can be construed as being erotica is left solely in the hands of Nilu. And then we end up getting drivel like this - She was wet. Entering her required a lot of effort. I closed my eyes. Now I have no problems with under-sexed quasi-virgins. Some of my best friends are under-sexed quasi-virgins. But if you want to be a u-s q-v and still write erotica, you better have some kick-ass imagination. Graeme Smith and Sachin Tendulkar are both essentially batsmen who do not practice bowling in the nets. Yet, when Tendulkar bowls, he frequently produces something magical because of his imagination and creativity. Smith's bowling is so pathetic, I suspect the only reason he bowls is to show the world that captaincy isn't the thing he does worst.
When Nilu writes about sex, it invokes so much pity, that all his readers will readily contribute to the "Send Nilu To Amsterdam For Some Paid Sex Fund" just so that he gets a fucking clue about the subject.
Theothernilu however is an artist. She has imagination, she has creativity, and she can weave erotica literally out of anything. Even in her shortest posts, there is a story of delicious richness. Her erotica has as many tiny nuances as good sex. And she has been missing from RH for a while.
Where art thou, TON? Come back, for fuck's sake!
