Monday, April 15, 2019

Sex Scenes in My Novel

Fact #1-From what I can gather, no one is reading my novel The Dead are Online

Fact #2- The past few months, my most popular post has been Anal Sex. I'm not sure why it's popular. I don't even really talk about sex that much in it.

Crazy Idea-If people aren't going to read my novel, maybe they'll at least read the sex scenes.  Although this idea might have worked better if some of my characters dropped their bucket in the dirt.

So yeah.  I really want more people to read my novel!!!  Like...I'm desperate. Obviously.  What other kind of person would post all the sex scenes from their novel?!

Well, actually, I'm not going to do all. I'm still re-editing the novel and haven't gotten to the last chapters yet.  But I'll add those later when I get to them.

Note: If you're looking for happy, romantic sex...you probably won't find much here. I seem to like writing about awkward sex.


From Chapter Five (I really thought I had some sex prior to this)

On Zoe's fifth date with Mickey Levinson, they have sex.

 It's quite a surprise to her; though if she thinks about it, not a complete surprise.

She had shaved her legs and her pubic area. She had worn matching underpants and bra–clean underpants with no holes. Maybe, despite the lack of passion, she figured by the fifth date something had to happen. Or maybe she had some type of premonition. Maybe a little voice had whispered to her in her sleep, "Mickey's going to do more than kiss you on the forehead tonight."

The sex is fine for the most part, at least in terms of technicalities. Body parts work as they should. She doesn't have to say the TV show line, "Honey, it happens to everyone." He doesn't have to reply. "But it's never happened to me."

Their bodies connect like they're supposed too. They make the correct movements.

Psychologically, it 's a bit off. Maybe a lot off.

Zoe keeps thinking about her dad. She keeps imagining him watching and making comments. "Yes. He brought a condom. See how he's careful. He's very trustworthy. Very prepared. Just like he is at the company. One day I bet you won't be wanting to use a condom."

 Her imaginary dad  even starts critiquing her technique. "He doesn't like that. Try something else. Be a little louder. You sound bored. Maybe he'd like to try a different position. He needs variety. If you don't give it to him, he might seek it elsewhere."

Zoe has no idea why she's having these father issues. It keeps her from having an orgasm, which is fine with her. She doesn't like having them. It makes her feel guilty. She feels like she's cheating.  

Mickey has his orgasm. It doesn't seem earth-shattering, but it can't always be. He gives Zoe a dutiful squeeze. Maybe that counts as a cuddle?

He hops out of bed and goes into the bathroom.

 Zoe thinks about her father issues; then changes the channel in her brain.

She thinks about her sex life. There's not much there. There's a lot more to be said about her sex dreams. She's had a lot of them. Almost always with the same man.

There was that one dream with Damon Wayans, Jr. Does that count, though? Because, in the dream, Zoe was a man and the two of them were having gay sex.

For the most part, though, Zoe is monogamous in her dreams. In real life, Mickey is her third partner.

She had sex with her prom date. She gave in to his pressure. As Mr. Prom Date reminded her, he paid for the tickets. He paid for the limo. He had bought an expensive bouquet of flowers AND a big box of Belgian chocolates. Zoe's father had been very impressed with Mr. Prom Date too. He likes big spenders…probably because he's one himself.

If she's honest with herself, Zoe has to admit it wasn't just the pressure from Mr. Prom Date that made her decide her private bits were open for business. She was confused about her dreams. She didn't want to cheat on her boyfriend. The thing is….that sounded crazy. How can you cheat on a man from your dreams? How can you cheat on a figment of your imagination?

So, for the most part, Zoe had sex to prove she wasn't crazy. It didn't quite work because she ended up feeling guilty and worried that her dream man would be hurt. She worried he'd dump her. He didn't. He had been fine with it. Well, not exactly fine. All she remembered him saying was. "I don't like it happening, but I've always understood it might."


Arthur cleans up the kitchen while Bernard sleeps on the couch.

 Arthur decides not to be annoyed that he's cooked and is now doing the cleaning. Bernard's had a long day. Twelve hours on the set.

Arthur worked too, but only for seven hours. Besides,

Bernard had offered to pick up something. Arthur was game for that. He was really craving Indian food. He declined the offer, though. Eating out cost a lot. Cooking saved money.

He made vegan chili and some garlic bread. It all came out fine.

 He's getting better at cooking. He's getting better at saving money.

Last week he gave up giving up breakfast when he realized that he made up for it elsewhere. He wasn't saving money or saving calories.

Now he's smarter about things. He's lost two pounds.

Bernard hasn't noticed.

That's okay. It's only two pounds.

Arthur finishes washing dishes and turns off the water. Now he can hear Bernard snoring. What would his fans think about that?

Arthur walks into the den, takes his phone out of his pocket, and videotapes Bernard snoring. He uploads the video to YouTube; then posts a link on Twitter.

He exits his wicked daydream with a grin. If he ever gets mad at his husband….

No, Arthur would never sink that low.

Bernard farts.

Arthur laughs, perhaps too loudly.

Bernard wakes up. He looks disoriented. "What?" He meets Arthur's eyes and smiles. "Hi."  

"Hello."

 "Sorry I fell asleep."

Arthur likes how he presents it as an accident. What does Bernard expect to happen if he lies down on the couch after a big meal?

"Don't worry about it."

 Bernard slowly sits up. "I'll do the dishes."

 "Already done," he says; then quickly adds. "You must be exhausted."  

"You're too good to me."

 Arthur smiles.

"What are we going to do when you get your big break and you're too busy to take care of me?"

"As if that will ever happen."


 "It will," Bernard says with conviction. "You have to believe in yourself."

 "I do," Arthur says. He doesn't. But he's not in the mood for a pep talk from his successful husband. Sometimes it feels too….charitable. He hears his phone ring from the side table. He picks it up. It's his dad.

Arthur should answer, but he doesn't. He puts the phone down.

Bernard looks at him for an explanation.

"My dad. I'll call him later."

Bernard reaches out and takes his hand. He pulls Arthur down. They sit on the couch together. Bernard kisses Arthur. He whispers in his ear. "I love you."

Arthur kisses him back. He tries to be passionate but loses his drive. The problem is, he's just realized he has to shit. Or maybe it's only a fart. He did just have chili. He doesn't want to fart while kissing. He's totally comfortable farting in front of his husband. Usually. But not during sex stuff. That's just not right. "Excuse me," Arthur says. "Have to use the toilet."

 "I'll be waiting," Bernard says in his sex voice. It seems misplaced in the particular context. It's not like Arthur said he's going to go and slip into something more comfortable.

Should he warn Bernard that it might be awhile? No, not a good idea. It will ruin the mood even more, and what if it's a false alarm?


Going through this...my novel has MUCH less sex than I thought.

I kind of thought I had put in too much sex. But now I'm seeing...no, probably not.



They work at the seating chart together.

 Early on, in the work, Eugene begins to understand Anna's frustration. It’s like a massive math-logic problem. Each time they think they have things right, they realize so and so doesn't like so and so.  Or so and so will be upset that all her friends are at that table, and she's not.

When they finally figure it out and check and recheck, they both sigh simultaneously with relief. Their eyes meet for a brief moment. Then they both look away.

Eugene wonders if such wedding work is more pleasant when you're in love with the person you're marrying. Probably.

Anna then says. "Hey, I know you didn't want to help with that, but you did. So I appreciate it."

"No worries," he says. "It's my wedding too." He decides to be nice and not remind her that this whole thing is her idea, not his.

"So, I feel I owe you. If you want to have sex, that's fine. We can do that tonight."  

What the fuck? What kind of demented offer is that? It's sick and insulting. It makes him feel cheap.  

He wants to say no and bitch her out for even asking. But suddenly he's very horny and doesn't have the willpower to say no.

 "Okay," he says.

* * *

The really sick thing is, it's the best sex they've ever had. In fact, it may be the best sex he's had period.

 He wonders if Anna feels the same way but doesn't ask her. He doesn't want to hear her answer. He's sure it will be bitchy and wounding.


After he goes to the bathroom to wash up, he gets a text from Sebastian the friendly ghost. "I wish I hadn't had to watch that," he says.


Eugene types back. "Who told you to watch Don't blame me for your sick decisions." He's about to press send, but then he deletes the message. Instead he writes, "I wish you were still alive so I could strangle you."


He presses send and smiles.



From Chapter Twenty-Seven

Eugene pumps away inside his future wife.

He's getting tired, and she looks tired and bored.


 After they had the great sex last week, they decided to try again. They've gone at it every night. The initial repeats were almost as good as the first. Then it diminished in quality.  

Now it's gone to shit. He's been inside her for….

Well, it's not like he's been watching the clock. But it's been a long time, and he's tired.

Is she ever going to come? Is he? He remembers those days when he had to fight so hard not to come too soon. He'd think of non-sexy things like bird flu pandemics and Norovirus outbreaks on cruise ships.

Now he should do the opposite thing. Sexy stuff. Other women.

Katy Perry.

Not working.

 The woman in line behind him at Shake Shack a few days ago.

Not working.

America Ferrera, both with Ugly Betty costume and without.

Not working (which surprises him).

Jessica Lange.

Ah. He feels something there.

He gets more into it. He fucks faster. He's going to come.  

Then he feels himself being pushed out—his penis back out into the cold world.

Shit! "What's wrong?" he asks.

"It's beginning to hurt," Anna says. "I need to stop."  

"Okay," he says, trying to sound understanding.

"Can you get off of me?" she asks.

 It's not just his penis she's rejecting but his whole body.

He gets up. "I'm going to wash up."

"I know," she says.

He leaves her. He hates that he has to finish things himself. Coming into wad of toilet paper was fine in his teen years. Now it makes him feel desperate and messy.

He goes back to thinking about Jessica Lange.

No. That's ruined for him now. He'll definitely always associate her with rejection for now on.

He tries America Ferrera with the Betty costume.

This works. He comes fast. Most of it ends up in the toilet paper, but some ends up on the floor. He cleans it up.


From Chapter Thirty Four

Zoe and Arthur play Mario Bros 3 on their NES in the rec room.

Taylor's behind them doing an unending amount of jumping jacks.

Then Zoe's in a cave fighting a real life Bowser. He throws fireballs at her, and she jumps.

She's not too bothered by it.

It's a dream.

She's getting good at knowing when she's dreaming and when she's awake. She waits for Keith to appear, and in the meantime, she continues having fun dodging fireballs.

"I really do have a good imagination," she says.

"Yes!" Bowser says. "You do!"

"You're a bit up yourself."

Zoe swirls around and sees Keith standing there. Smiling. 

He grabs her and kisses her passionately.

She tears off his shirt, and he does the same with her shirt.

She reaches down to his pants.

"In front of Bowser? Isn't that a bit kinky?"

She uses her magical mind power to make Bowser disappear.

Or she tries to use her magical mind power to make him disappear. It doesn't work.

"You'll get better at it," Keith says. "Don't worry." He grabs her hand and they quickly spin through the air.

She finds herself in a hotel room filled with roses and candles. A cliche, but she's not going to complain. It's her dream after all.

She grabs Keith, drags him to the bed, and they get busy.



* * *

 Despite the fact that she's just had sex at a hotel, on a private jet, on a beach, at a water park, and on Space Mountain, Zoe still hungers for more.

When she wakes up, she pleasures herself.

She hopes Keith's not watching. Being watched might turn some people on. It doesn't do that for her.  

Nor is she interested in watching someone touch themselves. The whole practice feels a bit too desperate. Despite her distaste of the practice, she does it. And not with shame or guilt.

It's like digging up your nose. She does that sometimes, and it feels kind of good. Not sexual good, of course. She doesn't have a nose-picking fetish. But it feels good to clear her nose of blockage, and fascinating to see what comes out. Yet she wouldn't want to have anyone watch.  Nor does she enjoy watching other people do it.

Though there's the fact that she's a daycare worker, so it's a display not foreign to her. She's seen her share of interesting boogers.

Zoe thinks of a better analogy for masturbation, because maybe nose-picking is a bit off.

How about licking the cake batter from the bowl? Or even better, sticking your face in your bowl of ice-cream when you're still desiring more. Zoe's done that plenty of times. It's one of the nice things about living alone.

Although now that she thinks of it....

Was she alone?

 Keith says he doesn't spy on her. She's pretty certain she can trust him.  

But how about other spirits?

Grandma Cornelia!

No. Don't think of that. Zoe quickly changes the channel in her brain, because she's still working towards climax.

And now…

It's a lost cause.

She tries again, thinking of the Space Mountain adventure.

No, it's not working.

She gives up, gets out of bed, and puts some waffles in the toaster.

Then she notices the clock on the microwave. She has to be at work in less than an hour.

There's no time for a relaxing breakfast. She puts the uncooked waffles on a plate and sticks that in the refrigerator.

She grabs a handful of peanuts, and eats them quickly while getting dressed.


A miracle happens in the morning.

Jennifer sings Leonard Bernstein's "Hallelujah" while she pours herself a bowl of cereal. Philip gives her a compliment!

 "It's wonderful to have a wife with such a beautiful voice," he says as he comes over and squeezes her.

 She can hardly believe what she's heard. She's so in shock, though, that she stops singing.

Philip puts his hand gently on her chin and turns her face towards his own. He kisses her, and she tastes orange juice.

What's happening?

 Oh, who cares. It's wonderful.

He presses against her and cups her breast with his hand. She feels his hardness against her lower abdomen. 

She looks around, making sure Taylor's not around.

 "I believe Taylor's busy exercising," he says.

Oh yeah. She went out for a walk. That's good.

He goes back to kissing her. Then he takes her hand resting on his back and moves it downward and towards the front.

She feels his hardness.

Then he unzips his shorts, and she reaches in to find his penis.

He groans as she gently squeezes and strokes.

All is going well until she remembers Trisha. What if she's watching?

Jennifer pulls her hands out of her husband's pants.

"Don't stop" he says in a husky voice.

"Sorry," she says. "I was just thinking. What if someone's watching?"

"Who'd be watching?" he realizes what she's talking about and laughs. "Oh. You mean an EB?"

She nods.

"I think by now we'd know if we had one in this house." He cups her breast again and directs her hand back to his crotch. "And it's a bit ignorant to think we should all stop making love simply because there might be perverted EB's watching."

He's right. Jennifer's being foolish. It's okay. And Trisha's respectful about privacy. She wouldn't stick around to watch.

Jennifer gets back to work. She does some more with her hand. Then he lowers her shorts and she gets on her knees.


* * *

 They take it to the bedroom.


 Jennifer clings to Philip as she has her orgasm. She loves him so much. She wants to stay here all day like this.

It's not going to happen, though. She understands that. He has to work.

There's some good news, though. He tells her he's working from home today. So maybe there will be time later for more of this. He'll need to take a break at some point.

"I bet you’re counting the days until Arthur comes home," Philip says as he pulls away from her and climbs out of bed.

"I am," Jennifer says. Then she counts the days in her head. It's six days, including today. “It will be wonderful to have him in the house again. "How long do you think he'll stay?"

"I don't know," Philip says. "I can open doors for him, but then it's up to him. He might not get the part."

This makes Jennifer curious. "Do you think he's good enough?"

"He's not bad," Philip says. "But, unfortunately, it's a competitive business. There's a lot of people who are better. It's just the way of things. The important thing is he'll be home. Won't it be wonderful to have all our children here again."

"Yes," Jennifer says.

He looks down at her, lying in the bed. "Are you going to get up, or are you planning to sleep all day? 
She decides it would be nice to have more. "Why don't you come back in here with me."

He looks annoyed for a moment, but then that look quickly vanishes. "You know I'd love to, but I have a lot of work to do."

" I know."  She reaches out and grabs his hand. She pulls him to her, trying to get his face near her own.  He resists and all she can manage is to get his forearm near her mouth. She gives it a peck.

He blows her a kiss; then pulls out of her grasp. "I need to get to work."


* * *

 Jennifer's almost asleep when Philip comes into the room. 

 She opens her eyes and watches him for a moment. Then she whispers. "I love you." 

"I love you too." He comes over and kisses her on the forehead. 

She realizes she wants more than that and tells him. 

"Honey. I'd love too. But I'm exhausted. It's been a really long day." 

 Jennifer's stung by the rejection, but she tries not to show it. "That's fine. Maybe tomorrow then." 

"I look forward to it," Philip says. She watches him walk away, and into their bathroom. He turns on the bathroom light which also brightens their bedroom. 

She's lost her sleepiness and figures she'll just wait until he's back and the lights are off to try to sleep again.

Or…maybe he'll change his mind and make love to her.

She hears the buzzing of his electronic toothbrush; then the sound of him gurgling his mouth wash. 

She thinks about his tongue in her mouth. She laughs quietly to herself, thinking about how she hated French kissing when she was young. She couldn't understand the point of this tongue-wrestling. But then she met Philip, and her feelings completely changed.

Philip comes into the room. "You look happy," he says. 

"I was just thinking about how much I love you." 

 "And I love you." Philip says. "Isn't it wonderful to know that we never have to give up this love. We're together forever." 

"It's wonderful," Jennifer agrees. 

 He climbs into bed with her. She cuddles in close to him and is disappointed to find only softness against the back of her thigh. She resists the temptation to try to change that. 

"Speaking of eternity and all that," Philip says. "How's Trisha. I assume you spoke to her this evening." 

Jennifer finds herself still bothered by the fact that he now knows about Trisha. She wishes she hadn't told him. It's wrong of her, though. He has a right to know. It's really not nice for women to have secrets from their husbands. 

"Does she knows about the upcoming developments?" Philip asks. 

"Yeah," Jennifer says. "She heard." 

"I bet she's really excited about it." 

 Jennifer then thinks of what Trisha said. It's nothing, probably. Still, in the spirit of stopping the secrets, she should tell Philip. "So–" she says. 

 "What?" "Trisha happened to see some of the people you were working with this afternoon." 

"Did she?" 

Is he angry? Annoyed? Jennifer can't tell. "Yes, I hope that's okay. She wasn't snooping. She's not like that. I think she just heard noises and wanted to check it out." 

Philip laughs, somewhat harshly. "And that's not snooping?" 

"I'm sorry," Jennifer says quickly. "You're right. It was inappropriate. I'll have a talk with her. She needs to understand that you have important work, and some of it's very confidential."

Philip laughs again; this time not harshly. "Relax! Hey, you know it's not a big deal at all. It's reasonable for her to be curious." 

"Are you sure?" Jennifer asks.

"Trust me," he says. 

"Okay." Should she bring up the smell? Yes, she probably should. It might mean something. It's doubtful, but you never know. "Trisha said some of the EB's had an odor. I think she's worried. Well, I mean. Maybe you should just be aware of it. It's probably nothing. But…."  

"She wants to warn us." 

"Yes." "Well, you can tell Trisha to relax. I already know about the smell." 

 "You do?" 

 "Yes, I can smell them myself. That's the thing about us…Yanjaeloss. We can perceive things that other living entities cannot. Some Yanjaeloss can actually see the dead. Did you know that?" 

 Jennifer wonders how she'd know that. She didn't even know what a Yanjaelos was before today. 

"And most of us can at least smell–not all EB's. But some of the more powerful ones have a slight odor."

"Oh. I didn't know that," Jennifer says. She's learning a lot today. 

 "Just as there are extra powerful living people, there are also extra powerful people in the spiritual world. Does that make sense?" 

 "Yes. Definitely." She's starting to get it now. Probably. 

"That's the miracle of partnerships. You take powerful people, put them together, and you achieve the nearly impossible." Jennifer notices then the softness against her leg has turned hard. He pulls away a bit. She pulls him back and turns around to kiss him. He doesn't resist.


(Yeah. I don't think that counts as enthusiastic consent!)


Anyway, that's it for now.  I shall post more as I continue re-editing the novel.