#EroticMusings 2026.10.02 — Week 70 (September 27-30) Culture: What does arousal mean to you? Share an example from your work of arousal stemming from something other than someone else's physical appearance.
[I think this post is SFW, but consider the prompt and innuendo. —RS]
Instead of quoting a dictionary, I'll define the word thusly:
Arousal; noun, state of being. A waking to a contextually defined stimulus that draws interest consciously, subliminally, or autonomically.
I see the word as a psychological term. The word requires adjectives to imply less seemly narratives. Speaking of which, in the following #excerpt from Reluctant Courier (for the Mob) it isn't too difficult to deduce what interests Bolt, a day angel woman with wings, and her friend, Shugh.
Beyond that!
Sheesh!
He (or she if we use modern pronouns) is wingless but very human, and he just saved her from a bonehead maneuver where he caught her before she fell off a building. Whether her wings could have saved her from the twelve story drop without injury is debatable, but the grabbing her wrist in time isn't. His action changed her perceptions of him, which he reflects back at her. The pair are very different in all so many ways that have kept any attraction previously at bay, but…
Another glance confirmed. He was male. Which brought back flashes of handsy Teri, our passion hours ago, and what I had found she had missing, that which he had. The voice in my head asserted, Reasonably Cute. Available, too.
My heart thudded. Oh, flap.
He stood, dusted himself off, then approached. I scooted the chair back, the legs making a muted shriek, until it struck the wall. I threw my wings back against the wall, feeling immediately silly to have felt intimidated. This was Shugh. Nice. The gender chameleon. Blended in with the women. Soft. Feminine wear, accessories, hair—when up. Easy to accept as she.
He said, "My face is up here."
I looked up from his hips as he squatted down, my face heating up. He didn't hide his biological gender beyond depilating, which alleviated the sense he misrepresented himself. But in my mental state, any reminder that I might appreciate his maleness…
Now at eye level, I glanced away from his green eyes. His blond hair, unfashionably long for either gender now that it was down to his hips, fluffed and waved in the breeze as if it wanted to clothe him from behind. He added, "You've been the only one who's been unwaveringly supportive of me after that day with the gateway. I can't express how much I appreciate that."
I nodded.
"Being supportive and protective is attractive," he added—a comment that was so true, that so reflected my mood, that I would have said it a moment after he had, had he not—as I stood, crowding him back.
His right hand ended up at my navel…
PS: Teri is a woman.
Edit: I revised the "Being supportive" sentence and migrated back to the manuscript.
[Author retains copyright (c)2026 R.S.]
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