(I know. From heartache to… hmmm…)
How do I, Mel Gutiér, get hot and heavy with my characters? It’s kind of easy for me. LOL. Obviously, I’ve had sex, so I am familiar with the feelings, the emotions involved. The physical positions? I just imagine the positions depending on the situation. I’m not into porn or erotica. I mean I hope it doesn’t seem that way. Well, I never really thought about it. My stuff might be rated R but I don’t really like all of that. I do try to be realistic and raw. My characters are real to me. They have feelings, lives, desires, problems and so it’s natural that they have sex. Hopefully, I’ve done a good enough job with the characterization that the sex just kind of flows naturally between the partners involved.
The mood is important but there may or may not be any romance. Read Michael and you may understand what I mean. It may be wild and thoughtless or it may be tender and sweet. Whatever the case, the details will always have to do with the characters and their situation. I’m not writing the sex for the sex. It should fit or not at all. Of course, I want to entertain and well, sex is… it’s entertaining. That is to say, if the reader grows to care for the characters, then the sex is satisfying because it brings closure, fulfillment. Of course, it may anger the reader. It depends. I like it when it makes the reader angry. It means it felt real to them. Can you tell I think about this stuff a bit. LOL
The brain is powerful. If I’ve realized the scene correctly, according to my standards, then the reader might get heavily involved as well. A delicious feeling might be stirred. I hope. But I have to stop and ask myself, where is this going? Is it the sex? Would they really do that to each other or am I just fantasizing? It needs to be real. It’s not for the sex as far as I’m concerned. It’s for the authenticity of the story, the characters. Some may roll their eyes but it’s what I do. It’s not for everyone and I don’t expect to shove it down anyone’s brainwaves. I am just writing fiction, pretend about love, sex, relationships and everything in between. I will always do what I can for it to be natural, realistic but still dreamy.
I don’t need to look at an image. I like to create from nothing. But listen to a song? Yes. No surprise there. I think everyone does the music thing to get into the mood. Whether for writing or in real life. I do it all the time. All the time. I also prefer if my hubby doesn’t look at me. It is almost like I’m cheating on the guy. I’d never do that, but I am imagining naked men and what they’re doing. So, if he’s not part of the imagery in my head, it’s better for me. LOL.
My kids, they can’t be around. I mean, it’s in my head but still. I can’t look at my angels and write a sex scene. It’s embarrassing. I’m a normal person with an abnormal hobby, passion. Passion. I think we’ve covered that. I’d rather be alone with my head phones on and a nice sexy tune playing with my head and corrupting my thoughts until the deed is done.
I’m about to show you one such scene. It will be rather rough because I’m about to make it up as I go along which is pretty much how I write these things. I don’t really think too much about it. (Maybe I should. LOL) Hopefully it will stir you up a little.
A little mood music. Italian and spicy.
He took his time watching her get undressed by the bed. He smiled in acknowledgement of her wise words prior to having left the house earlier that evening.
“Mark, this is going to be a complete waste of time. You should take me dancing instead. Office parties never amount to anything but sucking up to the boss. You don’t need that.”
“Just indulge me one last time.”
“Fine. But you will have to make it up to me after.”
“I’ll think of something. You look nice.”
“Yeah… well, I do what I can.”
“You don’t have to do much. I like you naked.”
Elizabeth loved to tease her husband. It was her favorite thing to attack him with. She gave him a wink and took his hand.
Mark smiled with his eyes closed remembering her that way earlier that evening. Now as she removed her skirt he walked towards her.
“Don’t move. I’m about to make it up to you.”
She uttered an incomplete whisper as he kissed her. He squeezed her against him as their tongues danced to the familiar tune of their unique music. She went weak at the knees as he held her up passionately. She became heavy in his arms as he followed his mouth down the side of her neck slowly removing her bra, carefully, tenderly releasing the delicate treasure imprisoned by the lace. His treasure. The shape of her body was designed with perfect imperfections. He knew every curve by heart, by touch. Twenty years together, eighteen married. He knew her body well. She opened her eyes wide turning to look at him.
“What about the kids?”
“The kids are sound asleep. I think the sitter wore them out. Now relax, don’t say another word. I want you so much right now and I don’t want you to miss out on anything. Relax.”
She did and as he cupped her breasts tenderly, she felt him behind her and let out a moan. It was cathartic and her entire body reacted. He caressed every inch of her torso carefully teasing the edge of her forbidden zone way passed her lower belly. She arched her back and kissed his chin until their lips met again. The tender explosion slowly encapsulating them as he laid her slowly down on the bed. He kissed her delicate flesh gently lifting his mouth away. He stood next to her, enjoying her. She took a deep breath as she watched him take his time removing the articles of clothing that were holding him captive.
They smiled at each other. It was a telling smile, a familiar dose of warmth. She took a breath as the soft light form the night stand revealed a rather warm glistening lining over the raw of his flesh. It was soothing and exhilarating at the same time.
He laid beside her and began caressing her every curve. She arched her back as she felt his hand between her thighs. The ache building up was torture but of the sweetest kind. He removed the soft fabric covering the last few inches of her, sliding it slowly off her legs. He kissed her belly as she put her hands on his head. Her body reacting as he kissed the life scar from below the navel. He loved that scar. The life that resulted from it, his only little boy, the baby they hadn’t expected after their two princesses. He kissed her there several times until the tears poured out. She felt them and pulled him up towards her.
“You move me when you do that. Every time my love.”
“I can’t help it. I thank God, every day for saving you that day. Remembering how we had to rush you to the hospital. All that blood soaked on the sheets. I love you so very much and if anything had happened to you that day, I would have died and the children would not have either of us right now.”
“Mark… kiss me.”
He spread her legs and led himself inside her kissing her until she gave in to the pleasure of the dance inside her. The sound of their affection shifting the bed from its normal state, an uncontrolled quaking. Their bodies’ soft violent caress in perfect rhythm, perfect warmth, perfect… love.
© 2017 Mel Gutiér
Thank you so much for reading.