Hey, all you writer types. Let's look at spicing up your genre (or even literary) stories with a little (ahem) action. How do you incorporate sexy time into your stories?
Let's say for you a publisher is open to spicy but not all-out erotica, how do you determine where to draw the line yet still keep the sexy actually, you know, sexy?
Elizabeth Donald: Sex is part of the human experience, to a greater or lesser degree according to a person’s personal drives. We don’t have to literally shine a spotlight on the penetrating moment in order for sexuality to be at the forefront of the story. A character may be consumed with deep need and powerful attraction - indeed, it might be the driving force of their actions and even the plot, without us actually following them under the sheets. It’s not censorship to construct a story about sex and sexual attraction without actually depicting the act; if you’re doing your job right with evocative language, the reader will feel all the things you want them to feel, regardless of the explicitness of your story.
L. Andrew Cooper: In the fiction I've published, at least, the sex I've described has always been horrific in some way, from attempts to conceive a child for sacrifice in Descending Lines to the relentless taboo-breaking of Alex's Escape. I guess some scenes in The Middle Reaches are steamy, but they're still weird. So mostly I don't have to worry about sexy... I have to worry about explicit description ("showing") parts and acts. I guess if I have to satisfy a prudish publisher, I describe less or cut more.
Chris Riker: Sex is a great time for internal dialogue. A writer doesn't have to re-invent the old Penthouse Forum; he just has to tell us what the sex means to the characters.
"Then, while I was still trying to plot her trajectory, she said, “I won’t do anything on a futon, Zebulon.” The futon was in good shape, only a few beer stains on its lime green canvas, but it was a futon, so, as the French would say, ‘non humpez vous.’
I said, “There’s a big bed. The sheets are clean. And call me Zee, please.” I was hoping. Really hard. She kept me waiting a solid minute, standing there, considering her options. Then…
“Zee,” she said my name that way for the first time and put her arms around my neck. “Take me to the big bed with the clean sheets.”
Yes, I remember how her pencil skirt slid off her hips by lava lamp and the way her voice rose in primal song as she taught me to please her and the smoothness of her skin and the way my lungs drank in the scent of her hair. I remember giggling together afterwards and not being able to stop or wanting to. And when at last Jing fell asleep in my arms, I remember lying awake and feeling… real." - Zebulon Angell and the Shadow Army
Sean Taylor: I love to focus on the after or the before. I think there's a lot of magic to be covered there in the buildup or the afterglow. People get real then. Case in point, in this scene, Rick Ruby is visiting one of his, ahem, informants, a nightclub singer named Donna:
