Writing Literotica Ch. 01

I love writing for Literotica, make no mistake. I love the nice things men and women both have said about my efforts even more, that's a God's truth. No doubt about it, this woman is an egotist and it was one of those compliments that set me to thinking. Not about a new story line but how I created what I have already done. Maybe somewhere in this random collection of thoughts there's one sentence of help for somebody else.

Thinking on it and first off, knowing I'm going to be totally honest here, my first key to having put anything on paper is to have lived it or know the woman who did. That doesn't make for fiction, it's actually reporting, but the story is all that really matters. The facts and it is a fact my husband banged me on a golf course one time and there was another couple going at it not fifty yards away. It's a fact I do have a lover. Total complete truth one of my friends had a baby by another man who she will lay with until the end of time. Another friend enjoys Civil War reenacting so she can be with her lover while her husband passes out drunk. Real events, of that there is no doubt.

Having decided on the facts, the next thing I always try to do is write exactly as I talk. When I begin to type, I form every sentence as if it was coming out of my mouth, as if I was speaking the adventure, not writing it. I try to tell you, the reader, the story that really happened as I either lived it, heard it or perceived it. Maybe it works, maybe it doesn't, but the bottom line is this is communication. Getting the point across, that's the bottom line. Sometimes it's the details that get us all hung up though.

That's why I've always tried to make my writing pretty, or at least as pretty as graphic sex acts can be. I do use the word fuck but not as the only description of a sex act. In fact I did go into that in detail when I categorized sex, differentiating between fucks, screws, humps, bangs and making love. There is a difference, a huge difference, so lumping all into one really doesn't fit me and it probably doesn't fit anyone but a 12 year old boy who shouldn't be reading this stuff anyway. I avoid obscenities to capture emotion. That, however, can really get a woman twisted into a complete knot.

Make no mistake, some of the things that have happened to me hurt. They hurt to this day, in particular the way my husband took my virginity front and back. Somehow I doubt I was the first or the last to have had that happen though and so I wrote it as I was feeling it. I'm not saying it didn't piss me off all over again, it certainly did, but it was also part of the story. I can't say I was totally enthralled recounting the story of when my friend Wendy and her brother did the deed either, but again it was a story that might help explain emotion. Explain humanity. It just requires once the story is completed that I, as writer/liver/hearer step away for a while and think of other things. Being bitter, being cynical isn't the ideal way of life. Then again, neither is being in a state of heat.

Honesty here, yes, I do get turned on from time to time, not by the words I just wrote but the memories they inspire. When I think of the first time I laid with my lover, a story yet to be written, I get extremely excited. When I wrote that account of my friend Sue going to a motel, I was very fortunate my lover came by that afternoon to ease some of the "pressure" in my womanhood. I get turned on, but I'm not writing for the simple pleasure of getting off, at least by myself. The story, that is the thing, just as long as there is no bad intent.

Odd but true, even though I may write what narrow minded morons would consider pornography, there are certain subjects I consider off limits. Child pornography is always pornography, rape is always a crime. Science fiction is beyond my imagination and therefore beyond my abilities but most other things I've seen or felt. It makes it easy to record as long as my own guilt doesn't get in the way.

Getting by guilt was my first hurdle when I did the story about walking in on my mother having sex with a man, a beautiful man, I could have had. Jesus Christ, it was Mom laying on a bed without a stitch of clothes on and I'm telling the story. It was a great story, what can I say? A lot of admissions in that one, that she was fooling around, that I knew it and that I get myself off even to this day. Letting it all without hurting anybody does feel better, but it's not like what we're writing about.

With one category exception, it is all about sex and sex is something more than sticking a penis into a pussy, at least to most. It's about a story of people, believable people who might sometimes do unbelievable things, but always have a reason to do so. It's certainly not always a romance novel but neither is it purely graphic for no purpose. Perhaps it's not based in reality but even a dream does seem real.

Finding reality makes writing so easy..........and where that reality lives is something for another article.