I was reading something earlier today and it went into my “sigh, so not sexy” file. Filled with a zillion fucking scenes but not a one made me even the slightest bit tingly. It was all random body parts thrusting and rearing, twitching and *this is Lauren, scowling* lots of random buttsecks. And whatever, okay, buttsecks can be totally hot in the right circumstances, it’s taboo, it has cultural baggage – it’s forbidden and when the right author harnesses those things it’s whew, hot, guh! But it’s like any other scene in the wrong hands and I’m left sneering and rolling my eyes and sort of scared of rearing penises.
While I’m a very visual person, sexy to me is more often than not about the stroking of my brain. It’s why porn is okay for like five minutes but after that I find myself bored, amused or horrified. It’s why I like authors who realize it’s not in the quantity of sex scenes in an erotic romance but in how the scenes are utilized.
Don’t get me wrong – a scene with a super dominant dirty talking man is hotter than the sun if it’s done right and in context. Really, really hot (eyeballs roll to the back of my head hot). But a man who takes his time to lick the back of a knee or who leans in to breathe in the scent at her neck? HAWT!
Last night I was giving my husband a massage – yes a real massage, not a euphamism – and I just became entranced by the way his back felt under my hands. The flex and play of his muscles as I worked, the way his ass felt against me as I straddled him, the scent of his warm skin as I pressed my fingertips into it. The act of ministering to him, of caring for him and easing his stress became a huge aphrodesiac to me. Also, the fact that he was there, relenting to my control but still like a great big tiger who could pounce at any moment – shiver.
He told me about his day, just little bits and pieces and his voice echoed through his ribs. His hair, once deep black and now salted with gray, was soft against my fingers as I massaged his scalp.
What was the most sexy was the intimacy of the moment. He told me about his day, I told him about my new story idea, we laughed about the kids and normal stuff and it was good between us.
The outcome is something I’ll save for a book, heh, but there is sexy in every day things that aren’t overtly sexual in nature. There is sexy in connection
June 29th, 2007 at 2:15 pm · Link
This is lovely. Sigh…
June 29th, 2007 at 2:21 pm · Link
😀 I couldn’t have said it better, Lauren. 🙂
June 29th, 2007 at 7:48 pm · Link
I agree completely. Intimacy can sometimes get lost in erotic stories. Too many authors equate closeness with penetration.
June 29th, 2007 at 8:06 pm · Link
I so totally agree. It sounds like you and the dude have a great relationship. And Seeley, you are so completely right. I think that some authors don’t always get it, but when they do, it’s magic.
June 30th, 2007 at 8:57 am · Link
I agree completely. Sometimes, if the sex scenes are boring, I just scan through them and get on with the rest of the book. Sometimes it not even worth getting on with the rest of the book!
June 30th, 2007 at 5:32 pm · Link
Wow…very well said. I’m reading something now that had me doing the “Lauren face” because the folks in the book have no reason to be having sex at all. There’s no connection, no care, no…nothing. It’s just sex…sssnnnnnzzzz *tj snoring* Reading your blog topic moved me more than the book I’m trudging through.