Writing Sexy Sex

What I’m listening to: “Let’s Give Them Something to Talk About” by Bonnie Raitt

 

Insert Tab A into Slot B repeatedly until physical release is obtained.

I believe I’ve just written the world’s most boring sentence about sex!

But at the end of the day, that’s all sex is. It surely doesn’t feel that way! It is a mere biological act that we are all, to some degree or another, obsessed with.

Your characters will likely be in some sort of relationship. You can show the audience a bedroom and a blazing fire to denote the people have sex, or you can chose to describe it. It’s always your call, and you shouldn’t feel you have to include a blow-by-blow (pun intended) description. Do what’s right for you, your story, and your characters.

So, how do we write unboring, but non-pornographic sex between two or more people? (If you want to write pornographic sex, you go on ahead with your bad self, but this post isn’t about that.)

First, let’s think about the kinds of sex. No, I’m not talking about positions (we’ll get to that), but the feelings associated with sex. Sex can be:

loving                    a chore                    deliriously exciting           a job
boring                   controlling              funny                                  for procreation only
athletic                 triggering                celebratory                         adventurous
an act of violence (rape & incest)     mysterious/mystical        for pity
furtive                  a union                     about submission and dominance
exploration         an act of betrayal   disgusting                           a healing
frightening          nostalgic                  noisy                                    touching
lonely                   sad                            goofy                                    repulsive

and about a hundred other things… because humans are complex.

So think about the context of your sex scene. Even if you are writing a scene between a pair of newlyweds, there’s more going on than “Whoo hoo, this is ‘legal’ in some sort of weird societal way. Let’s do it!” You can describe the action as an act of celebration, exploration, loving, possibly frightening (if it’s a first time or there are extenuating circumstances), funny, triggering (if there is a bad past), a union, and yes, an act of violence.

And it doesn’t have to be any one thing. Again, humans are complex. We can feel a dozen different and sometimes conflicting emotions at once. And if you can write a scene like that, THAT is interesting as well as sexy.

For more on writing the context of sex scenes, read the amazingly smart THE JOY OF WRITING SEX: A Guide for Fiction Writers by Elizabeth Benedict.

And a last word here: I think emotions and context are the chief things that differentiate sex scenes from actual pornography. Porn is just body parts going at each other. Writing well about sex includes the whole person and how that sex involves/impacts/changes them.

What is the point of the scene?
This is a big one for you. If you are writing erotica, then the point is to write characters with chemistry and a lot of sexy sex. But most writers are putting in the sex to show something between the characters.

I use sex scenes at critical plot points. The characters discover something about each other during love-making that is a factor in moving the action. That doesn’t prevent me from writing pretty smoking hot sex. But somewhere in there, they find a key (in themselves (memory/dream/thought) or something their partner says/does/acts out) that’s been missing.

Be choosy. Don’t have them humping each other at every turn. Have the sex be an integral part of the story.

Let’s take a position on positions.
Unless your character is a religious sort (I’m thinking here of the wonderful way Barbara Kingsolver did this in THE POISONWOOD BIBLE), the Missionary Position isn’t the only way to have sex.

Standing (less likely for older folks), sitting, lying, tantric, bent over, sprawled out, front, back, sideways, under, over, kneeling, combinations, many positions in one session….

Don’t go overboard. Your characters don’t have to do every position there is in one book. But don’t be afraid to have your characters do something more than X on top and Y on bottom.

Don’t forget all the senses.
What does it feel like?
What smells are associated with this?
What is the taste?
What does it sound like?
What do things look like?

Obviously, you don’t have to have this in every single scene. But try to include all the senses that create a three dimensional experience for the reader.

In my forthcoming contemporary fantasy novel THE MIDSUMMER WIFE (coming February 2018 from Vagabondage Press), a particularly sexy scene starts as Ron traces the lines of a large tattoo on Ava’s back (a descriptive title for the series can be: “Women with ginormous back tattoos and the men who love them”). He uses his fingers and tongue to explore and excite Ava. And she lights up like a bonfire.

It’s not just the body parts. What is creating the sensation? There’s more than the usual suspects of sexual characteristics that turn people on. What exterior inputs are creating that mood for your characters? Food (I could write a whole post on the food/sex combo), wine, a beautiful scene, an exciting environment. These are all contributing factors to stimulate the senses that lead to and enhance the sexual experience.

The where of sex is also important.
In the remake of “The Thomas Crowne Affair,” the characters make love all over the house, starting in the foyer, up the stairs, on a desk, and end up behind a sofa. Holy biscuits Batman, did someone pour lighter fluid on me and fire me up? Because that was HOT. Think outside of the bedroom-box!

~So, beds are nice (and to me, more comfortable than say, an operating table—and hey, there’s an idea!), but there are more places to do the act.

~Cars are fun because of the compressed space and all the things in the lovers’ way.

~Outdoors is fun and can be varied and complicated

  • I know a couple who were making love in a field when a bull wanted to know what they were doing
  • A friend was making love to his lady in a pond when a fish found his “dangly bits” worth nibbling
  • A couple discovered why a particular kind of succulent is called a “jumping cactus” the hard way.
  • Another friend and his lover got a nasty case of chiggers from a romp on the lawn
  • There’s always the chance Mrs. Grundy will spot the action and call the cops
  • Or it could just be really fun sex al fresco

~The bathroom presents some interesting places to have sex, from the conventional tub, shower, or the counter, to the floor, the commode, or shelving.

~Kitchens are great—all those counters, flooring and dual-use equipment!

~Any water venue (swimming, boats, floats, etc) is fun because of the wave action

~Workplace venues can be fun for mild danger-sex (a couple humping in the storeroom), or control sex (the boss makes the worker do him/her in the office).

Again, the importance is context. Why are they having sex in this particular place (beyond they are horny)?

What’s the what into what?
Especially if you are depicting your characters having sex multiple times, you’ll want to change things up. Are they liable to have “backdoor sex”? Oral? Multiple partners? Masturbation? Round the World? Fun with toys? What is your Tab A? What is your Slot B? It doesn’t have to be the same thing every time.

Which leads to what the heck will you call that thing?
I’m sort of a blunt person, so I tend to call things what they are: tits, penis, vagina, balls. But really, that’s not what women (and I write primarily for women) want to read. They tend to want steamy sex without calling things by their clinical names. Romance books tend to get quite flowery (sometimes literally).

You can see a good list of Romance names for “parts” here  and the “activities” synonyms here.

My approach is not to get too silly, but back off the clinical. So, “love bud” for clitoris, “stiff rod” for erection. It seems to read a little smoother, too.

Never forget that people name their parts, and it can be fun to use that instead of a euphemism. For instance, I wrote a fake preacher who calls his dick the “Wrath of the Lord,” or “Wrath” for short. A woman could call her clit “Rosebud.” A man calls his female lover’s boob’s “the twins.” You get the idea.

Another thing to be careful of is period correct language if you’re writing historicals. For instance, a woman isn’t going to refer to her “va-jay-jay” (a term I loathe) in seventeenth century Germany (unless she’s time-traveled, which has interesting implications on its own). Research is critical.

How do I write a scene?
If the spirit takes me, I can write the basics (from 1 paragraph to up to five pages) in an hour. But usually, it can take up to a month, because:

  • I’m placing a plot point as either the result or the motivator for the sex
  • The emotions of the characters are critical
  • I want to blend in all the senses
  • I’m trying not to be too “Tab A, Slot B”
  • I write and re-write the heck out of these until it reads as a natural act

And most importantly,
Let’s remember to expand Robert Frost’s excellent admonition: “No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader” to

“If it doesn’t turn the writer on, it will never turn on the reader.”

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