Writing Humor Dos and Don'tsbyCal Y. Pygia©
Other than those I've written, humorous essays concerning sex are often neither (a) humorous nor (b) sexy. It's a lot harder (pun intended) to write about sex than one might suppose. Boobs, cunts, cocks, balls, and buttocks, to say nothing of nipples, areolas, labia, clitorises, uteruses, scrotums, anuses, and rectums, or, for that matter, semen, sperm, or milady's lubricating "juices," are not all that amusing in themselves. Therefore, to paraphrase William Shakespeare (or, actually, Sir John Falstaff), they're not apt to cause amusement in others as well, not without a little (or, in most cases, a lot) of help.
To write humorous pieces (yes, pun intended again), about sex (no pun intended), a guy, a gal or, in the case of shemales, a guy-gal, has to know all the techniques of the humorist: burlesque, exaggeration, irony, punning, understatement, and the rest. He, she, or he-she must also recognize what's funny or potentially so. In other words, to be a humorist, a person has to have a sense of humor. (Duh!) Mostly, funny stuff is stuff that (a) is absurd, (b) happens to people other than oneself, (c) both of the above, or (d) none of the above. (It also helps to remember that what's funny to one person, the rhino-hided, may not be funny to another, the thin-skinned, and, unless you're David Letterman, it's best not to go after underage children if your "joke" is in any way risqué.)
Butt (pun intended) this essay's not so much about how to write humorous essays concerning sex as it is about how not to do so. More specifically, it's about (a) how to avoid clichés and (b) how to avoid techniques that may work for you on film, if a motion picture producer or director happens to be your (a) parent, (b) sibling, (c) lover, or (d) all of the above, but won't likely work for you in print, unless a book publisher or editor happens to be your (a) parent, (b) sibling, (c) lover, or (d) all of the above and vice (pun intended) verse (no pun intended). Printed sleaze and projected sleaze both have their own rules, regulations, tropes, and conventions; and it's best not to mix them, even if one is bisexual.
Some things shouldn't be done in any case, for any reason. For example, Hollywood filmmakers, even the G-, PG, PG-13, and R-rated, as opposed to the X-rated, ones, seem to think that it's sexy as hell for a man to be bare-chested as long as his female partner, also naked, covers her breasts with a blanket, a pillow, a sex manual, the family dog, or some other prop (the more absurd, the better). Mostly just gay men would agree, but, then, again, a lot of gays are among the Hollywood glitterati, so maybe that explains the ubiquitous use of this trope. For heterosexual (and some bisexual) folks, this situation is apt to strike one as rather absurd and, therefore, potentially amusing, rather than arousing.
Some motion pictures, including a few of the X-rated variety, aspiring, perhaps, to be "artistic," symbolize ejaculation by having a launched rocket substitute, as a metaphor, for the convulsive cock's "launching" of semen. This is sexy, maybe, for the adolescent-minded and those of an artistic bent (pun intended), but regular guys don't understand poetry, or even figures of speech, and they're apt to be confused when the camera shifts from a suck-and-fuck scene to show footage cribbed from Cape Canaveral. Plus, they're likely to wonder where the hell the damned rocket came (pun intended) from, anyway.
Instead of rockets, some filmmakers substitute fireworks, which is "clever," perhaps, but raises the question as to whether one of the lovers keeps fireworks in his bedside table to celebrate "the moment." If so, he's either exceptionally patriotic or he rarely scores.
For women, most of whom do not ejaculate, orgasm is sometimes represented by a babbling brook. Since we're talking women here, the babbling brook actually makes a pretty decent metaphor, both because women (let's be honest) do tend to babble, even during sex, and, even if they're faking it, they usually get more than a little wet from their vaginal secretions. But is a brook, babbling or otherwise, really all that sexy in the middle of a steamy sex scene? For women (and shemales), maybe. For guys, no way; real men want to see their partners squirm, writhe, quiver, and moan. They can visit the babbling brook to get in a little fishing afterward.
The ejaculation = a rocket launch metaphor and the orgasm = a babbling brook metaphor are pretty lame, but the cutaway scene is even worse. Two lovers are shown making love--sort of. They're lying beside one another or one on top of the other, kissing and caressing (and probably slobbering quite a bit), and suddenly, as things get intense, instead of a close-up shot of the guy's cock penetrating his partner's cunt or asshole, the fucking cameraman shows the voyeur--I mean, the viewer (pun intended)--a picture of a full moon between the tops of trees or passing into or out of a bank of clouds, and, by "full moon" (pun intended), I don't mean a bare ass.
Gay men apparently find wearing ankle-high work boots sexy, especially if they are (a) otherwise naked and (b) sucking cock or ass fucking. Think about it. To get naked, the guy would have to take off his boots and socks. Then, after he got naked, he'd have to put his socks and boots back on. By then, it's a wonder that he's still interested in (a) sucking or being sucked or (b) fucking or being fucked. Cum (pun intended) to think of it, maybe that's why his wearing just his socks and his work boots is sexy to the handful (pun intended) of gay guys (and maybe some bisexual) men who actually think such pictures are sexy: the fact that, after removing his socks and boots, then finishing undressing, and then donning his socks and boots again, all while maintaining a raging erection, proves his commitment to his lover, something rare among gay men.
Sometimes, to show their boyfriends how committed they are, some gay guys even wear a jockstrap instead of boxers or briefs, and leave their athletic supporters on with their socks and boots. If you're (a) gay and (b) find a guy who does this for you, keep him; you've found your Mr. Right.
Clearly, what works visually may not work linguistically. But what about the other medium, the printed one, which (except for Literotica readers, of course), no one reads anymore. What works there that may not, and probably won't, work in film? Adjectives and adverbs. There's no way to film modifiers, really, except ones that relate to speed (a camera can be sped up or slowed down). How the hell is a cameraman supposed to film something like "his anus fluttered recklessly" or "her moans had a feline quality" or "her touch was galvanic"? For the same reason, superlatives, which are like adjectives on steroids, are more or less unacceptable even in printed porn, and they're absolutely so on film. There's no way to film the "most beautiful" boobs, the "tightest" twat, a shemale's "prettier" prick, or the "most awesome" or "most amazing" ass. Don't go there.
I could go on (and on and on), but you get the idea. Don't make the mistake of thinking that, if it's sexy on the big screen or in a magazine picture, it will also be sexy in text (or vice--pun intended--versa--no pun intended). Most likely, it won't be, and, instead, you'll have created a "sex scene" that's more hilarious than it is sexy.