The other night I came across a book recommendation for a diverse erotic MMF menage series and being the filth monster I am, and intrigued by the series’ setting – history nerd alert bells went off all over the place – I snatched up a copy of book I in the series, and started reading. It was a quick read and by the next night, I’d learned some things about myself:
1. Sex for the mere sake of sex doesn’t turn me on. And this is coming from a total dirty girl. I love reading and writing great sex, the kind that rattles the walls and almost breaks the bed, where lovers are covered in sweat and spit and come, sex that unnerves and devours and leaves characters shaken and stirred and all kinds of horny. Desperate sex, that’s ugly and painful, teeth bared, bodies pressed against walls, banging against each other, seeking release. Deviant sex, dark and twisted, tied up in knots, mastered by another, submitting to one’s most perverse self. I love all of it, but I need a story. I need to feel something, anything, for the characters. A detached woman being fucked by a man while another eats her out hardly titillates. Yeah, it’s a threesome. So fucking what? I want inside her head, I want to know how her body reacts to being touched by two men at the same time, I want to know why she chose them, I want something besides the act. Written properly, all I need is a sentence or two, and I would be totally down for your threesome, because I am dirty like that and threesomes are fucking hot. At least they should be.
2. Sex should be sexy, it should make me hot and want to fuck. Bothered. I want to feel bothered when I read your sexy sex. My skin should tingle and my mind should contemplate all kinds of wicked shit. Because you’re bringing the heat and your characters are scorching and they are totally into being fucked the twenty different ways you’re having them fuck because they are desperate for each other. Every part of their being is honed in on touching and sucking and fucking and their partner(s) and their bodies and lips and tongues and it’s all just explosively hot and by the time I’m finished reading it, my panties should be kind of useless.
3. Women are vital to my reading experience, so if your book includes a woman MC, I need to know her. Even better, make me fall in love with her. She can be a raging bitch, a total fucking nightmare, a despicable human being, but make me love her nasty. And for god’s sake, make her more than the reflection of her male counterpart. I want to know her outside the context of him. I want to knew HER. I need to know HER. Because when I knew her, when she becomes more than a blank face longing to be fucked hard by her man, then I can stop focusing on how weird and discomfiting it is that I have no idea what she looks like, how she thinks, what makes her tick, and I can sink my teeth into your story and get lost for a bit.
4. Words matter. They especially matter when writing sex, all that fucking and sucking and touching – god, they matter. The wrong words can turn a scene that should excite and engage into a complete snore fest, making me skim it for the “good parts.” The last thing you want folks doing is skimming your sex scenes. Use the right words and no one will ever skim your shit. Okay, I take that back. They might skim, but at least when they do, they’ll find the good shit, the sexy, the stuff that gets them all hot and bothered. Because again, words matter. Here are some words that work: tits, pussy, dick, cunt, fuck, nipple, wet, clit, rock hard, and even cock, although it’s not my preference. Here’s what doesn’t work: her apex of desire, her sex, seam, organ, turgid member, pearl, rod, slit, gash, anything clinical. This list could go on and on but I think you get my drift.
5. Back to my women MCs. Creating a woman who loves sex and fucking and sucking and touching and doing all of that with multiple men is great but it’s not enough to build a character of substance who I’m going to want to learn about, care about, fall for. If that’s one aspect of her then yes, bravo to you for celebrating her sexual self-awareness, I LOVE reading women like that, I create women like that. But that can’t be her identity. It can’t be all you give me because for a reader like myself, who knows women are highly sexual beings and love a good, hard fuck and think about that good, hard fuck, often and in much detail, your sexually free woman MC is horribly one-dimensional. Please, please, please make her multi-faceted, dynamic, confident, and then of course, make her wickedly horny.
This is all a very roundabout way of saying I don’t think I like erotica – fucking for the mere sake of fucking. I need more from my beloved filth-filled books. It’s why I write erotic romance. I need the story and the backstory and the well-developed characters and god, please give me tons of sexy, badass, gorgeous, dirty-mouthed, confident women and men to love. It’s what I like to read, it’s what I like to write. The act with nothing more hardly gets me off.