Description of sex scenes in your own words. My view on writing sex scenes in works of an erotic nature
I recently started reading Aldous Huxley's novel "Blind in Gaza" and came across a veiled but obvious description sexual intercourse between the characters, this caused me a storm of delight, because the unexpectedly discovered passion in the works of the authors, key feature which is high level intellectuality and even some coldness, stiffness
and scholarship, causes an incredible emotional outburst.
Previously, I experienced similar emotions of delight and pleasant surprise when reading Hesse’s work “Narcissus and Chrysostom”. The descriptions of the hero’s sexual pleasures, beautiful in their form, the narration of his acquisition and accumulation of sexual experience, became for me a kind of revelation, an expansion of the boundaries of understanding, confirmation of my subconscious suspicion that it is possible to describe sex THIS way, and that it is beautiful and correct.
Here is the same excerpt from "Blind Man in Gaza"
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"Blind Man in Gaza" Huxley
...
There were mattresses for sunbathing on the roof, and on one of them Anthony and Helen lay with their heads towards the narrow shadow of the southern partition. The day was approaching noon; sunlight flowed from the sky without a single cloud, and a light breeze came, weakened and then strengthened again. The skin, engulfed in convulsive heat, seemed to become more sensitive, almost gaining higher power soaring. She seemed to absorb the nectar of life sent by the sun. And this strange, rebellious, flaming life of open space apparently penetrated through the pores, piercing and burning through the flesh, until the whole body turned into coals, and the soul itself seemed to fly out of its shell and become the fifth element, something else, some... then an extraterrestrial substance.
There are not so many facial gestures, one might say that there are very few of them in general compared to the richness of thoughts, feelings and sensations - the incomprehensible poverty of facial reflexes - even if you grimace consciously and purposefully! Still in a state of self-alienation, Anthony observed the scene of a deathbed in which he was involved both as a murderer and as an empathetic victim. Helen tirelessly turned her head from side to side, as if trying to change her position at least partially, at least a little, for one single moment to get rid of unbearable torment. Sometimes, as if imitating someone who, in a moment of despair, prayed for this cup to pass from him, she folded her hands in prayer and, raising them to her mouth, sunk her teeth into her knuckles or pressed her hand to her lips, as if wanting to muffle the cry of pain that was about to break from her lips. . Distorted face was a mask of unbearable grief. Anthony leaned towards her lips and suddenly realized that now this woman looked like the Virgin Mary at the foot of the cross in the painting by Rogier van der Weyden.
And then there was silence for a few seconds. The victim no longer turned his head on the pillow; the pleading hands became like cotton wool. The expression of dying pain gave way to inhuman, almost exalted calm. Seriousness, like a saint’s, was imprinted on his lips, and some vision of enchanting beauty was probably revealed to his closed eyes.
So they lay for quite a long time in golden sunny detachment, fed up with everything. Anthony woke up first. Touched by the silent, grateful thoughtlessness and tenderness of the contented body, he extended a caressing hand. Her skin was hot to the touch. He propped his head on his hand and opened his eyes. (c)
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Below the cut are several excerpts from “Narcissus and Chrysostom”. (copied from e-book)
"Narcissus and Chrysostom" Hesse
...
Here the woman smiled in response to him
surprised look, smiled very friendly, and he also began to slowly
smile. Her mouth fell on his smiling lips, they greeted with this
a tender kiss, in which Chrysostom immediately remembered that evening in
village and a little girl with braids. But the kiss was not over yet. Mouth
women lingered on his lips, continuing the game, teasing and beckoning, grabbed them
finally with force and greed, stirring the blood and exciting to the very depths, and in
in a long silent game, barely instructing the woman, she gave herself to the boy,
allowing him to search and find, igniting him and quenching his ardor. Marvelous short
the bliss of love embraced him, flared up with a golden flame, subsided and
went out. He was lying with eyes closed on a woman's chest. Neither was said
words. The woman lay quietly, gently stroking his hair, letting him come slowly
into yourself.
...
They sat down in the hay, catching their breath and enjoying the rest, both a little
tired. They stretched out, listening to the silence, feeling their foreheads drying out and
their faces gradually become cool. In pleasant fatigue, Chrysostom,
while playing, he pulled his knees up and then lowered them again. taking a deep breath into the night and
the smell of hay and without thinking about the past or the future. Slowly giving in
the charm of the fragrance and warmth of the beloved, responding from time to time to
stroking her hands, he felt blissfully how she gradually began
glow next to him, moving closer and closer to him. No, not here
neither words nor thoughts were needed. He clearly felt everything that was important and
beautiful, the power of youth and simple healthy beauty female body, his
warmth and passion, it was also clearly felt that this time she wanted to be
beloved differently than the first time, when she herself seduced him, now she was waiting
his offensive and passion. Silently passing currents through himself, he felt
happy, as a silent living fire flared up in both, making their bed
the breathing and flaming center of the entire silent night.
When he, bending over Lise’s face, began to kiss her lips in the dark,
he suddenly saw her eyes and forehead flickering in the gentle light, he was surprised
looked around and saw that the radiance, having dawned, was quickly intensifying. Then he
understood and turned around: above the edge of the black, far-stretching forest stood
moon. A white gentle light flowed marvelously over her forehead and cheeks, round neck, it
He said quietly and admiringly: “How beautiful you are!”
She smiled as if she had received a gift, he lifted her up, carefully
taking off her clothes, he helped her get rid of them, bare shoulders and chest
glowed in the cool moonlight. He followed with his eyes and lips,
passionate, for gentle shadows, admiring and kissing; as if spellbound, she quietly
lay with her eyes downcast and some solemn expression, as if
Her own beauty at that moment was revealed to her for the first time.
....
He never tired of learning from women. True, he was more attracted to girls,
very young, who had not yet had men and who knew nothing about them
he could fall passionately in love; but the girls were usually unattainable: they were
someone's lovers were timid and well watched. But he also
women willingly studied. Each one left him something: a gesture, a way of kissing,
a special game, a special way of giving or resisting. Zlatoust
agreed to everything, he was insatiable and compliant, like a child. He was
open to any temptation: that was the only reason he himself was so tempting.
...
She leaned towards him, her thirsty lips approached his,
They silently greeted each other with their first kiss. His hand is slow
wrapped around her neck. She led him through the door to her bedroom,
illuminated by tall bright candles. A meal was served on the table, they
They sat down, she carefully offered him bread and butter and some meat and poured
white wine in a beautiful bluish glass. They ate and drank from one
a bluish glass, playing with each other's hands as a test.
- Where did you come from, my wonderful bird? - she asked. “You are a warrior,
or a musician, or just a poor wanderer?
“I am everything you want,” he laughed quietly, “I am all yours.” If
want, I am a musician, and you are my sweet-sounding lute, and if I put my fingers on
I’ll play on your neck and we’ll hear angelic singing. Let's go my heart
I'm not here to eat your dishes and drink your white wine, I'm here only
because of you.
He carefully removed the white fur from her neck and freed her body from clothing.
Let the courtiers and clergy confer, let the servants scurry about, and the subtle
the crescent moon will completely emerge from behind the trees, lovers did not want to know anything
about it. For them paradise blossomed, captivating each other, absorbed in each other, they
forgotten in their fragrant night, saw their bright secrets in the darkness
places, plucked the treasured fruits with tender, grateful hands. Never before
a musician played such a lute; never before had a lute sounded under such
strong skillful fingers.
“Chrysostom,” she whispered passionately in his ear, “oh, what a wizard you are!”
From you, dear Chrysostom, I would like to have a child. And I wanted even more
would die from you. Drink me, my love, make me melt, kill me!
Happiness sang deep in her throat when he saw how she was melting and weakening
the firmness in her cold eyes. Like a gentle shiver of dying, a thrill ran through
the depths of her eyes, fading away like the silvery chill of a dying fish, matte
golden, like reflections of a magical shimmer in the depths of the river. All
happiness that only a person is capable of experiencing seemed to him
concentrated in this moment. (c)
Now she won't be his anymore best friend. He will be Lisa's husband.
You must be tired from the road, Travis. Why don't you take a walk?
The twins, returning from school, actually took over Amy. They dragged her to swim in the pool, where Amy amazed everyone: it turned out that the girl swims like a fish. Eighteen months of living in the desert had obviously taught her some survival skills.
Ben wanted her. By all means known to him. And they will come up with a few more ways themselves.
Amy could have sworn that he could see through the thin fabric of her swimsuit the hardening tips of her breasts and, Furthermore, felt the spasms deep inside her, in hot and dark places that she herself barely knew existed.
Bringing her head to his chest, Cole hugged her. He smelled like a man. He began to kiss her. And there was a lot of kissing - all over her!
There was no hesitation in his kisses. He knew exactly how to find her lips.
Only a fool could believe that he kissed her thanks to her lips!
The man's fingers stroked her bare skin. Amy grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away.
“There would be no greater pleasure for me than to be the first in you,” he whispered in her ear, and goosebumps danced all over Amy’s body.
She cried out softly as their bodies came close enough to touch.
Cole stretched out his entire body on top of her, covering her completely and even more.
He squeezed her breast with his palm - he experienced the highest male pleasure.
He placed his hand on her stomach, feeling the shocks and ripples.
Her flesh disappeared into his body. He stubbornly slid his tongue over her lips, repeating their shape.
Amy moved on to examine the pulsating bundle of muscle between his legs.
The smile on her lips grew wider with every second of orgasm approaching.
“I’m not a fool anymore, I’m learning quickly...” she said, taking a sitting position.
And her smile showed that she had left this world and gone to heaven with happiness.
His tongue, rushing into her mouth, frantically did what the other part of his body was striving for.
Nervous shivers crawled up my spine. She turned into one huge goosebump and said, “Yes!”
Selina moaned, no longer straining her brain.
She wanted to die, but instead she fell asleep.
Grace felt her nipples become erect. It was new step in their relationship.
Something was always boiling in his brilliant brain.
“What does she want? Just sex, or something deeper?
Without turning around, he looked back.
Desire shook him to his very heels.
Chase grabbed her hand. Something warm flowed between them.
Inside her, the previously sleeping woman woke up and opened her eyes.
“And that tanned skin of his! And this body is in smooth layersnahbiceps, triceps and other male muscles!
A sexy smile pulled his cheeks towards his ears.
He took her face in his hands and, kissing her, lowered her onto the carpet in front of the fireplace.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her eyes burned with anger. Laura resolutely shook them off her face.
Jake knelt down, pulling her jeans off and giving her a view of the bay.
He began to climb the stairs, pressing his lips to her.
Ok, if all this is bad, then what is good?
In fact, there are no universal criteria for the “goodness” of a sex scene. If it lacks the negative elements listed in the first part, it should no longer cause disgust or laughter. However, it is still a long way from an ordinary, undistinguished scene to decoration. This is where the “give the reader something else” factor comes into play.
"Anything else"
It’s difficult for me personally to describe this phenomenon. Maybe this is perceived at the level of personal feelings, but I will try to formulate my thought. A good sex scene is filled with feelings. Not just sensations, impressions, or filled with nothing, like a police report, but feelings. She must make sense. That is, if you are marrying your gorgeous love line such a scene or at least introduce it like this climax, she must change heroes.
For example. A girl can feel different - more mature, more sensual (everything was wrong before - but now she knew what real pleasure was), bolder, more crazy (now she is knee-deep in the sea, she has achieved what she wanted), more detached and calmer ( she realized that he could never love her, so at least let him sleep with her). The guy can understand what it is real love(and before that there was only pure sex), or real woman(and before that there were only girls), or real art (for example, if they suddenly get into tantra), or real beauty (well, he hasn’t seen naked women in person, what should he do...), etc. In general, the scene should open new horizons for the characters, and your job is to show this beautifully to the reader.
The idea is not new. But usually, even cool authors who do not forget to introduce conflicts into every dialogue, every scene, carefully monitoring the growth of the character, forget to do this in the sex scene. Of course, you can describe sex well without this. But, as they said, this is terry IMHO, and to me personally it “tastes better” this way. Now let's move on to specific suggestions for improving your art.
Epithets, metaphors, comparisons - this is our motto
1. Compare. In my opinion, this has never ruined a single scene. She will immediately become juicy and beautiful. Compare movements and actions, flexibility, smoothness of lines, passion, ardor, etc. This is especially true for women. It’s just advisable to avoid cliches like “passionate like a tigress”, “flexible like a cat”, “strong like a lion”, “cold like ice”, well, I think you yourself know which comparisons are best to use))
2. Metaphysicize what is difficult to say in plain text. Oh, this is my favorite point. Probably should have taken it out separately. Anyway. In general, if you are embarrassed about something or don’t want to seem vulgar, describe it with a metaphor. In my opinion, it is not permissible to use specific words and expressions in general, unless you have tough masculine prose, where it is necessary, so that all this slobbering romance does not get out of the general context. Saying “orgasm” is very easy. But it’s difficult to show this feeling through a hero. Show the fall into the abyss, flashes, lightning, thunder, sparks, darkness, light, peace, satiety, fullness (or whatever you feel there, Idk). Show it with a feeling. The reader will understand what you mean, even if you don’t say like Captain Obvious, “Vasya Pupkin has never had such an orgasm.” The same goes for other elements.
3. Sing praises to the sexiest parts of your body. Yep, it's not just the parts you're thinking of. There are hundreds of ratings on the Internet - both from Man’s Health, and simply, and surveys on various portals, etc. If you don't rely on sociology and men's/women's magazines, sing the praises of what specifically appeals to you. Beautiful hands- OK. Chest and pumped up abs - excellent. Pink buttocks (XDDD), smooth beautiful line backs, strong broad shoulders, satin skin, rounded knees, slender hips, long neck after all... Think and describe it beautifully. And don’t forget - we metaphysicize, compare, so that the reader’s mouth waters. By the way, it should be noted here that the author is often outraged by the inattention of writers to female breast. No, you come up with something beautiful and original, not “swollen nipples” TM! In general, it seems that these same “swollen nipples” are the only indicator of arousal in a woman! Yes, it can manifest itself in different ways! Blush on the cheeks, perspiration, sparkle in the eyes, trembling, etc., etc.. “Swollen nipples,” damn it!.. Sorry. So what am I talking about? In a sex scene, you can show the appearance of the characters in all their glory. Just do it!
4. The smells, sounds, taste and touch of the characters are your friends. Give the reader 3D. This is so fashionable right now) The reader should see a three-dimensional picture in the bed scene, for greater identification, this is especially important. What does the skin feel like? What does she smell like? What does hair smell like? What do your lips taste like or what? What are the tactile, taste, sound parameters of the present moment? Immerse the reader. The description of tactile and taste sensations is often much more important than the physiological component itself.
Don't you watch erotic films yet? Then we go to you!
Yes Yes. And light porn is also possible, if you really want to write something bright and original, but don’t know what to come up with, or personal experience lacks. In general, the most universal way to learn how to write sex scenes without redness of the skin, trembling hands and a hail of cold sweat at the collar is the good old descriptive essay. Take the film. Look at the picture. And you describe it beautifully words. Yeah, it’s much easier to do this with a visual image in front of your eyes. Do you see where the hero put his hand? How did he trace along the heroine’s body? How did he throw his head back? How did the heroine hold her breath and her eyes open wider? WRITE! One, two, three scenes - and everything is fine.
You can also write stories where a beautiful, detailed sex scene is actually an end in itself. The author did this regularly. And now I wrote all this with a slight grin, although once, while describing the kiss, I almost hid under the table in shame.
Good luck and great works!
To be honest, the best sex scenes were, and probably will be, written exclusively by the fairer sex. Who, if not sensual natures, can subtly notice all the facets of the experiences of the main characters? Who can squeeze out the seemingly simple words what makes you burst into tears or squeeze out an amazed smile? Exciting, or disgusting to grimace. Well, of course, girls, only you, and no one else. That's probably all I wanted to say...
Kidding. Didn't say everything... If we're talking about about a single sex scene, in most cases, with a little practice, there cannot be any clues. Each author individually visualizes his picture, and then either finds his reader or not. But what if you are not writing small erotic sketches? This is where everything is much more interesting and complicated...
Men see images and fantasies schematically, sometimes visually, in pictures, imagining different scenes of future creation. It’s like watching a silent movie with subtitles, something like: Ja-ja... Das ist fantastisch. We are driven by the desire to express our imagination more vividly, but quickly getting down to business, we fade away just as quickly, often unable to fully express our writing potential. Girls are much more diligent than us in terms of expressing their erotic thoughts. We should also not forget that creative process It's not a matter of minutes. Of course, more often than not, an original thought or a separate moment comes first, which then becomes storyline. But the vision of the picture itself is female-male, radically different. You, like us, also initially see an individual person, or a certain situation that you want to express in words, and then develop your plot, trying to imagine what was written in its entirety, or at least its ending, with dialogues, perhaps even with voice acting. But your eyes are different, and your picture is also not the same as ours. Women see in images, and the most important thing in them is their internal sensations. What was the weather like? What dress or costume are the characters wearing? How strong is the tan, what color are the eyes, how thick is the stubble??? And not only are they important small parts, and also the tone of the story. Dear young ladies adore undertones and shades, endearing or diminutive adverbs, as opposed to the more stingy but practical description by us men. All these are not strong, or weak sides our distinct worldviews, but only undeniable differences. We see the world differently, which means we describe it the same way...
Now my advice regarding ideal bed scenes through the eyes of a man. Yes, we are pigs. Ruthless, brutal males who adore themselves and sex. And most often, sex comes first. We love harems, where we are the center of the female universe, although we can also dream of that one and incomparable one. We like to take girls by force, breaking your modesty, forcing you to reveal your true nature sex slave, or at least an ordinary wet pervert. So that at the end of the scene, you yourself beg to be thoroughly fried. Although sometimes we fall for hard-to-get people, whom we are ready to conquer with our perseverance and imagination, in the desire to achieve your favor. We are different, and we love to read different things. But most importantly, we can be turned on not by the sexual act itself. Here, as you understand, all the words were invented a long time ago and written down, up and down. Men can, and even need to be turned on with a syllable. Most often, simple hints, reflections of the characters and the plot, are either exciting or not. That's why best advice, which you can hear, to achieve even greater heights in the description of erotica, be yourself. They are frank to the last drop, improving their style every time. Experiment, and more often surrender to the power of your own fantasies, listening to your second self. Write for the most important critic of your life, for yourself, not forgetting to get high from the process itself...
