You know what it’s like when you read sensual and arousing words in a story, and the sounds of them, the energy of them, make you head go ping? Do you know what I mean? It’s like a sizzle, a firework ignited inside you as the sensual words do their work. It’s beautiful to surrender to that. We’re women, we love being turned on by things like that. And you hunger for it, and thirst for it, and you keep reading the pages to discover new words, you’re drunk on the sensation, because it feels beautiful and natural, connecting you with yourself, with who you are and what you live for and what you want out of life.
The above quote spells out exactly what happens within The Train of Arousal – this is it written on the page, but it mirrors what is happening between these two anonymous strangers – they are connecting through words, turning each other on.
The concept behind this story is simple yet unusual in the world of erotica … the sensual, sexual power of words. Here we are presented with two strangers who talk but do not touch, yet create a sexually charged atmosphere that is incredibly sexy. There is no place for vulgarities, pussies or cocks here, instead there are caresses, tender touches and soft kisses. I am amazed at what Lusarde has achieved in The Train of Arousal as for a story with no actual sex it is certainly erotic.
My one criticism would be that it is a very slow starter and there are times when you want the story to move a little faster, mirroring the train perhaps. This doesn’t mean that I want the whole story to be fast paced and conventionally racy, as what is so brilliant about The Train of Arousal is that it is unique in what it does. The pace at times echoes the sensual language and you imagine the exact affect the pauses have on the young man.
The female protagonist is one that I can image will divide opinion, with her straight-forward attitude mixed with her allusive nature. I personally liked this sexually open woman who felt no shame in walking up to a man a lot younger than her and engaging in a sexually charged conversation built around a fantasy. She wants to be adored, caressed through the male gaze and made to feel alive, and personally as a woman I can relate. No, I’ve never gone up to a stranger like she does, but if I am dressed up and a get an appreciative look from a man, it makes me smile to myself (you’d be hard pushed to find a woman who denies this).
The power of words never ceases to amaze me and Lusarde creates a romantic piece that makes the reader long for a man to describe tantalising touches and appreciate women as this man obviously does. At times I can honestly say the descriptions are breath taking and dreamy. Please do not mistake my awe and the softness of the piece to mean that this is a typical romantic story Mills and Boon style, because it is not. As with any of Lusarde’s writing, you have to read it to understand and believe that someone can create a story like this.
Although out of all of Lusarde’s work I have reviewed so far this was at times the hardest for me to get into, I still think it is well written and erotic. Due to my reluctance to get lost on the page at times, I was surprised to find how much the subtle melancholic undertone towards the end touched and affected me. As I have always found with Lusarde’s work, it has a faint way of sneaking in and moving me without my realisation, and this is one of the things that I adore about his writing.