"The Perils of writing sex-scenes!"

11 February 2005, 07:59 PM

OK. I got this from my dear, dear freind Isabelle, who just love slash. No fem-slash, but still. So, when reading a mail she got from one of her many, many slash-mailing-lists she found this mail, were a discussion about writing sex-scenes follows. This is so damn funny, I just had to share it with you guys!!! Read, and laugh. And try not to laugh at your spouse when your having sex the next time... Have fun, boys and girls...

Jim pauses in his latest endeavor and frowns. After
a moments contemplation, he saves his work and firmly closes his new
fantasy G4 titanium PowerBook. After a meditative sip of his drink,
he addresses those around him. "There are some literary subjects that
have become total cliche and attempting to describe an erect penis is
one.

"I am writing a sex scene and my hero is now crossing the room while
fully erect. So, basically, his stiff dick is bobbing like a demented
conductors baton as he crosses the room ... however, one cannot
simply write, 'He crossed the room, his stiff dick bobbing like ...
' and so forth. Well, one could if one was writing that sort of scene
(and one was half plastered), but this one cannot. "To write anything
referring to his 'turgid manhood' is also somewhat tacky. Hell, just
the term 'manhood' to describe the penis strikes me as idiotic. A
dick is no more one's 'manhood' than a hymen is one's 'maidenhood.'

'He strutted across the bedroom, his hard manhood pointing the way'
sounds somewhat he owns a badly named seeing-eye dog. 'Sit, Hard
Manhood ... good boy.' "Just describing the state of erection is
tough. It is a simple matter of erectile flesh and hydraulics, but
damnably difficult to put into terms romantic. 'His penis, reacting
to his viewing her naked flesh, achieved satisfactory erection,
proving good vascular response and socio/psychological adjustment."
Oh, yeah ... baby, baby.

"Terms like 'throbbing,' 'pulsing' and all other variations of this
nature make it sound as if the silly thing had a blood pressure cuff
wrapped around it. 'His fleshy organ quickly surged into full
alertness, throbbing and pulsing and otherwise scaring the **** out
of him.' When I envision something throbbing, I imagine an action
somewhat akin to a bullfrogs throat sack as it croaks. THROB! Frankly,
with this in mind, if my dick ever took to throbbing, I'd call a
doctor. Matter of fact, I would think that any woman, faced with an
actively throbbing pulsing penis, would be somewhat concerned as
well. (I don't know this for a fact, though ... Dian says that in
certain situations, the sight is somewhat exciting, but the first
time she experienced this situation, she looked for a stick to kill
it with.)

"And then there is the matter of size, shape, color and texture.
Well, he's the hero ... I suppose it should be heroic, but somewhat
shy of practical joke size. Shape, now, there's another difficulty ..
as well as color and texture. Hell, let's face it ... a dick is a
fairly funny looking, if not downright ugly, piece of equipment.
Veins, bumps, ridges and all that; a color that never matches the
sheets, much less the surrounding flesh (or any flesh, for that
matter); an overall look of a plum precariously balanced on a
badly whittled rod. Let's not even mention it and simply stick to the
concept of a literary description of my hero approaching the heroine.

"Okay, he's naked and fully aroused ... does he stride? Stalk? Strut?
Strikes me as a situation that calls for something more than 'walk,'
but something less than 'bound.' I could have the silly sod moonwalk
across the floor, but the resulting mental image ... damn, too late!
Oh, well...another round of therapy. And what does the erect penis
actually do while he crosses the floor? Does it bounce against
his belly, producing it's own applause? Does it wave about in some
sort of vague response to his stride? Would it be feasible if I
simply had him hang a towel from the damn thing and skip the entire
description?

"And what about the heroine? She is languidly reclining on the
bed...and doing her level best to not bust a gut laughing, I suspect.
Should she stare? Gasp? Giggle? Ogle? Chant 'boingy, boingy, boingy'
as he approaches or whistle the 'Elephant Walk' in time to the
swaying? This is supposed to be a moment of strong passion and deep
emotions... but a bouncing, throbbing, column of manhood slowly
moonwalking forward...damn, gotta stop that image ... strutting
towards her cannot be what every woman dreams of in her fevered
imagination. I want this scene to be equally stirring to both men and
women, but fear that this is impossible."

Sailor Jim stares into the fire for a moment, then opens his
PowerBook once more. "Screw it ... or, rather, let's not. I'll simply
segue from her starting to slip out of her clothes to the morning
after. Y'know, the standard story cop-out. Thanks for letting me talk
this one through."