What IS IT with sex?

Exhausted

I don’t know if it’s just me, or if anyone else can relate to the unfairness of sex. I spent last night in the pleasant company of two bisexual guys and we all had a great deal of fun – three ways.

This experience was partly research for a new short story idea, and partly to ease an ache to be filled (you know what I mean, right ladies?). No-one can say that I’m not committed to my art. 😀

I wanted to get the low-down on how guys fuck (each other) and I was surprised by a couple of things that I thought I knew – but clearly didn’t!

At some point during their demonstration I found that I was so turned on by their fucking that I couldn’t help but gravitate towards the bed – and found myself getting fully involved with both of them.

Anyway, to get to the point, I was appalled to find that an hour or after having had a thoroughly pleasant time with these guys (and reaching the point where I had to wheeze ‘stop – please!’) that I retained no sensation of the evening’s activities at all.

Nothing. Even the warm glow in my tummy had faded.

Sure, this morning my thighs and my butt cheeks ached (I was trying to be uncharacteristically flexible in order to try out ALL the positions), but if last night had been a drunken haze, then this morning I could NOT have been certain that anything other than some light gymnastics or some over-enthusiastic dancing had taken place.

What the hell?  Where’s the lasting afterglow?  Where’s the week-long ‘ahhhh’ that should follow sex? It’s as if my body has just shrugged and said ‘right, now let’s get on with the day.’

What am I doing wrong?  Am I being too vanilla  (Hello…threesome?  Bi-guys in all three…ahem…too much info)?

No, I’m sorry, it’s just not good enough.  Mother Nature, I want a word with you! I want a memento of last night’s undignified hammering where I got nailed…um…damn it, I can’t even remember how many times!

*sigh*

STOP PRESS; I was showering a couple of hours later and realised that my nipples were unusually tender from the rough treatment they’d received.

BIG DEAL! I could’ve gotten the same sensation from jogging round the park in a cheap bra…

My first M/M short story is completed!

A few weeks ago I told you that I’d put my foot in it by erroneously assuming that the ‘gay’ requirement for a short story contract meant ‘lesbian.’

My bad.

I didn’t check my facts and ended up being contracted to write a 5,000 word piece on gay (guy) lovers.

Well, I decided to dive right in and emerged rather breathlessly at the other end having completed a nice little piece about the blossoming romance and subsequent bedding between two workers on a building site.

My gay (male) friend agreed to read it through for me. I spent a nervous evening, wondering if I’d just spouted inaccurate drivel like I used to do in my early puberty. In those days, my knowledge of male anatomy was rather sketchy and what little I did know was second- or third-hand from embarrassed girl friends who had brothers or who had spied on their older sisters’ boyfriends.

When I saw my friend the next day, he told me that not only had I managed to capture the feeling of love between the two guys (one ten years younger than the other), but he’d become seriously aroused and even ‘lubricated’ by the time he’d finished the story.  He actually asked if I’d ever witnessed two guys together, to which I said no, but his question assured me that I’d managed to get the anatomical details and sensations right.

After he left, my mind wandered a little (it’s dangerous when it does that) and pondered that if he’d offered to let me watch him in action, I might have said yes.

Just for research purposes, you understand. 😀

Writing outside my comfort zone

So, I blogged last week about really putting my foot in it.  Well, I’ve decided to go ahead and write the Gay (M/M) story that I’d been contracted to complete rather than back out of it.

And why not?  The writing experience will be good for me and I might, just might, actually produce something worthwhile.

My (confirmed) gay friend has been very encouraging and has even agreed to beta-read it for me once it’s complete.  Ideally, I’d like to be there when he reads it, but I’m not sure I’d comfortable sitting in the same room as he (if I’ve done a good job) gets aroused by what he reads.  He’s a friend, not a lover.

Not to mention the fact that he’s completely unavailable to me anyway. 😀

Ironic, isn’t it, that my story might get him hard, but my body never could.  Weird.

Really, really put my foot in it this week!

I wanted to begin today’s blog post by telling you a little more about myself, but then I realised that after having changed my on-line name twice to avoid

A)    Perverts and Spammers and

B)     being noticed (again) by my work colleagues and bosses

that telling you personal stuff would be kind of self-defeating.  I’d love to share a little more about me with my friendly followers – it’s beginning to feel like a family here – but I’m risking being exposed (not THAT kind of exposure!) to those who would mock, ridicule and generally hand me my notice.

So instead I’ll tell you a little more about what I do when I’m not rambling away on my blog.

I’ve been very lucky to be found by Steam eReads, an Australian publisher who specialises in erotic stories.  However, most of my writing income is still generated by ghostwriting – those short stories that are created in a whirl of inspiration, then sent off into the electronic abyss never to be heard from again.  It’s a little sad – rather like fostering children who never write home once they’ve left.  That’s why Steam eReads has become a little like a literary anchor to me.  My name is on the cover of the book that I wrote and they’ve been nice enough to allow me a say in the cover and the final editing.

Ghostwriting is my bread and butter for now, though.  So I continue to trawl for work, fend off those who can’t read what I specialise in (No, I DON’T do web design – where did it say that on my resumee??) and hum and haw over offers of $15 for 10,000 word ‘short’ stories.  Do I really need the work that badly?

But this week I put my foot in it.  I was asked if I could produce a 6k short story with a gay element – featuring two or more participants.  Erotica, I thought.  I can do that.  I can do gay erotica.  After all, my BFF characters Amber and Lucy are always ‘at it.’

I accepted the challenge – and was shocked when the outline arrived.  I’d naturally assumed (as you may have) that I would be writing about two (or more) girlfriends.

Nope.

The contractor wanted guy-guy stuff.

Aw, shoot.

Pun not intended.

I credit myself with a pretty good set of imagination neurons, but this was off the beaten track, even for me.  Yes, I have a gay friend.  I might even have two (I must ask him if he is – just to be sure).  But this will take some ‘getting inside the head’ stuff.

The alternative is turning down dollars that I can really use.

*sighs*.

Time to start following more gay (guy) blogs?

Definitely time to start checking the job descriptions more closely.

Any advice, guys and girls?

My first real story…

I’ve been writing erotica for quite some time now, ghostwriting a series of short stories between 4,000 and 8,000 words in length.

But I’ve just completed a longer project – a 15,000 novella with the working title of ‘The Bucket List’.

I’ve also provisionally tagged it as ‘Part One’ in the hope that the publisher will be interested in publishing further stories involving the same characters, my delicious mocha-skinned Amber and her girlfriend Lucy.

That’s girl friend as opposed to girlfriend, although they are very close. *Winks*

The Bucket List story / stories feature a ‘do before we die’ list that was created one wine-soaked night by the two girls, although Lucy had since forgotten all about it.

But Amber hadn’t.  She uses the list to prepare (in the first book) a surprise based  on the list;

“You remember number seven?” Amber whispered.  I [Lucy] frowned, trying to remember the nonsense we’d penned whilst giggling over the glasses of red. 

“Having sex whilst skydiving?” I guessed.

“No, silly,” Amber chuckled.  “Acting as the demonstration model at a vibrator party.”

And so the story unfolds;

 

 

Annie