Last night I did something I’ve never done before–and, no, it didn’t involve midgets.
I was speaking only with my Trusty Editortm and the conversation came up about some of the stuff I used to write years ago, back in the days when I was doing things that appealed to people with a certain fetish. I’d mentioned that someone had offered me real cash money for some of my stories, and they were happy I’d actually (here it comes) made my first sale.
Of course there was also a bit of chiding about how they’d never seen any of this work . . ..
And there’s a reason for that: some of what I wrote in those days truly embarrasses me. It’s not what I’d label true erotica; it’s more like the sort of stuff you read prior to wanking. I’d like to think that I’ve moved beyond this sort of work, but you know, it’s still part of who I am.
But last night I was in a “What the hell?” sort of mood, so I told Trusty Editortm to give me a moment. I hunted down one of the stories, posted it on my file sharing account, and gave them the download link.
And waited for the screaming to begin.
The funny thing is, the story has no real sex. Yes, there is sexual release–aka, orgasms–in the story, but there is no true sexual activity. I mean, in real life you can get to orgasm without actually having sex if you are really creative about it, and in this story . . . I’m creative.
There were a few comments here and there as Trusty Editortm read the story, and the fact they didn’t run into the night screaming “Sicko!” speaks volumes. And when they finished they said something to the effect “That was great! It has your normal great energy!”
No mention whatsoever of the strangeness ongoing in the story. In fact, they even pointed out a scene or two with glowing references.
Needless to say, I was one happy person. And in a very good mood. I mean, that was the first time I’d ever shown that work to anyone who wasn’t a fan of that sort of erotica, and well, to get great feedback from someone who has never been exposed to that sort of thing–yeah, it’s great for the ego.
But I wasn’t done for the evening . . ..
The discussion turned to how I write: how I sit, how I handle interruptions, do I allow people to watch me write. All that. And Trusty Editortm started asking me about what they could do if they were watching me write. Of course I knew where this was going . . . it was a bit of playful flirting, and I decided to play along.
So they asked, “What would you do if I was watching you and slowly uncrossed my legs?” It’s a lovely image, and what it conveys can be easy to read if you are in the moment. And I went there . . . I wrote about how someone would get up from their computer, walk over and slowly spread their legs while they move closer to the woman, lifting her long skirt as they bend to kiss her neck, and as his lips make light contact just below her jawline he touches the outside of her panties . . . there . . . and as he continues touching her he whispers that she is his, they are one, and she will sit and be loved until she either tells him to stop, or she orgasms–and he knows when she orgasms because she always whispers his name at the moment of release . . ..
Yeah, I was there. I can only imagine Trusty Editortm blushing profusely. And again, they didn’t run away. They talked more about the imagery behind what I’d described in just a few words, and I could tell they liked what they heard.
I still have it. I can still spin that erotic voice when the need arises. For a while I wondered if I could really do that again, but the answer seemed to be a resounding ”yes”. Do I still want to write what I used to? Hummm . . . maybe in a sci-fi sort of way, but I have other ideas–
I’m going to put a short together and hand it off to my Trusty Editortm and see what they think. I’m not going nasty; I’m going sensual and erotic, with just enough kink thrown in to make it that much more interesting. I’m not doing it to get a rise out of anyone–I’m doing it because I want to go there and see how it feels. Just little bits of the story, piece by piece, putting it all together like, as my Trusty Editortm said, “a love letter”.
Oh, yes: a very sensual love letter.
Hey, as we used to say–if it feels good, do it.