Hot Sex Scenes are 1% Inspiration, 99% Masturbation

|, Sex Scenes|Hot Sex Scenes are 1% Inspiration, 99% Masturbation

Hot Sex Scenes are 1% Inspiration, 99% Masturbation

[av_one_full first min_height=” vertical_alignment=’av-align-top’ space=” margin=’0px’ margin_sync=’true’ padding=’15px’ padding_sync=’true’ border=” border_color=” radius=’0px’ radius_sync=’true’ background_color=’#000000′ src=” attachment=” attachment_size=” background_position=’top left’ background_repeat=’no-repeat’ animation=” mobile_display=”]

[av_textblock size=” font_color=” color=’#e31e25′ admin_preview_bg=’rgb(34, 34, 34)’]

Hot Sex Scenes are 1% Inspiration, 99% Masturbation

[/av_textblock]

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’0′ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100px’ custom_border_color=’#e31e25′ custom_margin_top=’0px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’yes’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=’rgb(34, 34, 34)’]

[av_textblock size=” font_color=” color=’#000000′ admin_preview_bg=’rgb(34, 34, 34)’]

“You should go for the chocolate muffin,” I said to the woman next to me in line. Great-looking, a little under average height, brown hair past her shoulders, wearing a loose olive button-down top displaying her fairly fantastic breasts to any and all who cared to notice. I’m a caring guy, so I noticed. “They’re delicious.”

She eyed me me, then the pastry case. “They look good, but I’m always disappointed.”

“Why?”

“I’m a baker.”

“So you can do it yourself at home.”

She nodded.

“Doesn’t it get lonely?” I asked.

“What? Baking?”

“Yeah. I mean, unless you’re one of those perverts who are into group baking.”

She laughed. “Who are you?”

“My many lovers call me ‘Todd.'”

“What do normal people call you?”

“Todd.”

“So Todd, then.”

“Yes. And you are?”

“I’m Carinna.”

We reached the front of the line, ordered, paid, and she said, “If you want to talk more, I’m over there.” She pointed to a counter in the back.

I said, pointing toward my table, “Do you see that table with the lonely laptop?”

“Yes.”

“If you want to talk more, I’ll be over there.”

She grinned. Minutes later she sat down. We talked for a couple hours, touching on topics from baking to BDSM to polyamory (her dating and love philosophy), and several times the air between us crackled with sexual innuendo and fuck me eyes.

“It’s time for me to go,” I said.

“Me, too.”

“I’m going to the restroom. Come back with me so we can say a proper goodbye.”

I stood and headed toward the back of the cafe. The men’s room was empty, and she entered on my heels. I closed the door, locked it, and went to her. Gripping her wrists, I raised her arms over her head and kissed her, long, slow, fucking yummy.

To this point, things were going well. Had I to do it over again, I would have pressed things further, probed to see if we shared the same “sex in the restroom with a stranger” fantasy, but I didn’t. We kissed for quite some time, engaged in high school-level heavy petting, and went our separate ways, never to meet again.

At least not as of this writing.

Hot Sex Scenes are 1% Inspiration

In the upcoming fifth book of my Chronicles of Vajra series, my interlude with Carinna inspired a cafe restroom sex scene with a recurring character – Serene – you may recall from the big party at Lily’s house in Crazy Eyes:

I found a dessert plate sporting a scripted LL within the tasteful design, deemed it insufficient for the job, and spirited a rustic dinner plate—pounded copper from the Egyptian Middle Kingdom, with Lily Lobahtum etched along its rim—from the prime rib station. Atop this plate I heaped a feast of brownies and chips fit for a pharaoh.

“Hungry?”

“Yes,” I said to the girl who’d materialized next to me. Tall, slender, beautiful, flawless skin freshly oiled, no visible scars, a cute little tattoo on her ankle, long dark hair, long perfect legs. A hard nine, soft ten. “Are you one of them?” I asked, pivoting to shield my brownies.

“One of who?”

Them.”

Her expression transitioned from party casual to stranger danger.

“They’re hunting me tonight,” I said.

“You’re Brät, right?”

“How do you know my name?” I asked.

“I’ve seen the show,” she said. “Duh.”

“Look. Wait, listen. ‘Listen’ is the proper term when you’re telling someone something. If I show you something, ‘look’ is correct. So listen, before we go any further, I need to see your ID.”

“What?”

“To be safe.”

“You’re creepy,” she said. “No way.”

“Then I’m afraid I can’t talk to you. Sorry. What’s your name?”

She hesitated, but said, “Serene.”

“It’s been lovely, Serene. Try the brownies.”

Hot Sex Scenes are 99% Masturbation

Though I mine my dicey past for a majority of the events in Chronicles of Vajra, rarely does life serve up something smoking hot and timely, as it did a few weeks ago in my favorite Las Vegas cafe.

Translating a recent real-life event into something erection-inspiring, juicy-inducing (because my readers are evenly split between the genders), and within the flow of the story can be tricky and, at times, frustrating, but over the years I’ve found that if I’m physically aroused while writing a sex scene, it will likely arouse my readers. If I’m not physiologically engaged, I trash what I’ve written, get another espresso, shed a little tear to flavor it, and start over.

In the series, Serene vanishes for two books and returns during a speed dating event Brät attends. They exchange information and have coffee. Their scene allowed me to play out my masturbatory fantasies about what might have been with Carinna (be gentle with your criticism, it’s unedited):

I stood, noticed the middle-aged couple had their phone cameras trained on me (a not-uncommon occurrence since I’d returned to Lily Lobahtum’s Los Angeles), ignored the slight pang of not finishing my cocoa for the greater good of ballsy, potentially legendary, Odin-level spontaneity, shot Serene a chock-full-of-meaning gaze of invitation—at least I hoped I had, it may well have echoed a bad Crimes of Passion first take—and left her at the sofa. I strolled to the restroom, not bothering to glance back, chastising myself for not taking her hand and leading her into the back, given her masochist self-reference. Hopefully I wouldn’t pay for my mistake.

I left the door ajar and confirmed the restroom was empty. I didn’t patronize Grind Life often, and had yet to so much as masturbate in the stall to celebrate an elegant revealing of my protagonist’s inner motivation via the main plot’s resolution, so the restroom’s privacy and utility as a short-time motel was unproven. Behind me the door’s hinges creaked. I glanced in the mirror. The door floated shut behind Serene. I crossed the small floor to her—cheeks and bodies an inch apart, our heat mingling—and locked the door.

I stepped back, heeding the whispered instructions of Vajra, who excelled in such situations.

“Why am I attracted to you?” she said to the restroom. “You’re unavailable, arrogant—”

“Charming, clever. Take off your top.”

She did so. Strong, feminine shoulders, soft curves, an exquisite neck, Serene was an advertiser’s ideal of objective beauty, perfect for promoting hydrating soap, age-defying lotion, makeup of any kind, and volumizing, silkifying, flyaway-taming hair products. My cock stirred.

“Drop it on the floor.”

Serene hesitated—communicating a lot about her priorities—but soon her top rested on the not-completely-clean polished concrete.

“Take off your bra.”

Wordlessly she unclipped the back clasp, let the bra fall to her feet, and waited for the male of the species’ customary, fawning, grateful, sonnet-like gushing over her breasts’ transcendent qualities.

Instead, at Vajra’s insistence I stroked her shoulders, a potential bidder evaluating her for auction, gripped them to straighten her already perfect posture, ignored her lovely breasts because every man she’d ever deigned to bone had performed an open-mouth lunge at her nipples on first glimpse, and again stepped away.

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, uncertain. I don’t like to feed his ego, but at times like these my dick was a fucking genius.

“Drop your arms. Quit playing at insecure.”

Serene lowered her arms, shifted uncomfortably.

“Take off your panties and give them to me.”

A slight tremble moved through her as she handed them to me.

“Are you wet?”

She nodded. “Since you kissed me.”

“Show me.”

“I—”

“Show me.”

Serene scrunched her eyebrows and slipped one hand under her skirt. A beat later she extended a glistening finger.

“Lick it off.”

She bit her lower lip before touching her tongue to her fingertip, licked it, and finally sucked on her finger.

“Do you like how you taste?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Come here.”

She stepped obediently to me. Something had shifted inside her. She’d stopped questioning her attraction to me, her presence here, what was to come. Serene’s gaze flitted to the mirror—so relentlessly conscious of her appearance—and I spun her from it. I gripped her ponytail and pressed down just a bit—a hint at what I wanted, not rough, not forcing, but clear.

Serene knelt, her skirt flowing over her bare thighs, her big blue eyes on mine…

From this point on, I’d need to age-verify, so we’ll leave it at that. The full sex scene, edited and rated MC (Masturbation Certified), will appear in book five of Chronicles of Vajra, currently titled Clever Title.
[/av_textblock]

[av_mailchimp ]

[/av_one_full]

By |2017-07-02T17:12:25+00:00April 23rd, 2017|Sex, Sex Scenes|Comments Off on Hot Sex Scenes are 1% Inspiration, 99% Masturbation

About the Author: