So, I write romance stories that I publish as erotica, which is kind of tricky for me, because when I think of erotica, I tend to think of stories with light plot that mostly revolve around kinky sex. I LIKE those kinds of stories, but I don’t know that mine necessarily fall into that category.I just have to classify them that way in order to avoid offending those that don’t enjoy reading explicit sex scenes.Personally, I don’t particularly like reading romantic stories WITHOUT explicit sex scenes.Sex is a big part of most adult romantic relationships, and being able to bear witness to that part of it makes it seem more real to me.
I mean, I’ll still read non-explicit romance novels, but the whole time, I’m just thinking that the story would be infinitely better if the characters would just leave off with some of the angst and get down to the fucking already. “Twilight” is a prime example of this. I KNOW; I know, but I read it. I didn’t love it, but I read it.
A lot of grown ass, over forty women that I know consider this to be one of the most romantic stories they’ve ever read. Personally,if I had been in Bella’s shoes, the first date would’ve abruptly ended in a fight over music when Edward said he didn’t like music from the seventies. I would’ve been like, “Yeah, just let me out here on this dirt road in the middle of the shirtless werewolf infested wilderness.” No one who hates Bob Dylan and Neil Young could ever truly love me,and besides that, any guy, especially one who considers himself a musician, who lived in Chicago in 1918 and DOESN’T have fuck awesome stories about sneaking into Vaudeville shows to see Jellyroll Morton, well, that guy doesn’t fucking deserve immortality.
But I digress. The point is, those “romantic” stories are seriously lacking an important level of reality that I think is required in order for the story to really be able to wrap itself around you. People like to say that it isn’t sex that makes a relationship, but for most people, that’s total fucking bullshit. It doesn’t make the WHOLE relationship, but it’s certainly a big part of it.
The thing with sex is that it bonds people closer together, which can be really great or really fucking horrible. I once dated a Republican ( A REPUBLICAN!!!) for nearly a year because he was so great in bed.I was blinded by the “D” enough to ignore his creepy stash of guns and inherently false sense of moral/racial superiority. I should’ve ditched his ass when he said that people with tattoos were “trashy”, but instead, I’m ashamed to say that I briefly turned a blind eye because he took me out on actual dates to nice places, paid for everything,held the door for me, and went down on me often and willingly. Orgasms can really fuck up your whole life, under certain circumstances.
But that’s what makes a love story real. I mean, hopefully, most people make better choices than Bella Swan and I do when it comes to relationships, but even individuals that make seemingly perfect romantic partners have little quirks and imperfections that will eventually make you want to push them off a cliff. For instance,I’m funny, smart, and people tell me I’m pretty, but I curse a lot, I’m a total literature-obsessed nerd, and I play the ukulele for fun. If listening to me try to perfect that weird chord in that song from “The Jerk” for the tenth time in a row doesn’t drive you completely around the bend, then me going on ad nauseum about my favorite books or movies most definitely will.
These kinds of weird and annoying quirks are why make-up sex was invented. Make-up sex really is awesome, and while it may not cure the ills of your bad romance, it certainly makes it worth sticking around for a little while longer, and THAT is the shit I want to read. Okay, so you’re a century old vampire with horrible taste in clothes and music, and you have to continuously resist the urge to murder me, but you’re pretty and your long piano-playing fingers make me see God. Will we live happily ever after? Fuck no, but let’s live in the moment,here.THAT is all “real” love is anyway – seizing the day by the balls and hoping for the best.
To this, some might argue that books full of kinky three ways and multiple orgasms aren’t reality, either. To them I say, sorry,but that’s just not YOUR reality. Personally, I’ve done shit that would make a hooker blush. I’ve had three ways, watched other people have three ways because I was too stoned to join in. I’ve been in relationships with more than one person;with both men AND women-one of them was a trans man who I only broke up with because he was a cocaine addict, and I loved most of these people in varying degrees.
I may be kind of slutty, and I may have slept with more people than I can count on all of my fingers and toes, and I may have tried sexual positions that some people have only seen in internet porn, but in spite of what a lot of people seem to think about us slutty types, I can say that pretty much all of those encounters meant something to me.
I find it discouraging that for so many people, there seems to be a pretty big disparity between really dirty, kinky, tie-me-up-and-make-me-scream sex and what many people consider to be romance. If anything, I’d say that the opposite is true. It takes a lot of faith and trust for many to reveal their kinky fantasies, and two, or three, or five people that can pull that off without giving in to insecurity and doubt are most likely developing a level of trust that will get them through the tough times. People who help you explore every facet of yourself without judgement are people worth holding on to. That’s real love right there.