Remember how I mentioned that my friends like to out me as an erotica writer…So, I’m at a party and there is this delectably lovely man that interests me. Sexy, confident, successful, and fit. He has dark hair and even darker eyes and I notice that he is covertly following me as I make my way through the party. I’m talking, laughing, and sneaking glances his way and am in the process of deciding if he is just a casual admirer of my outfit or if he is interested in more. I find the hostess, my oldest and dearest friend, do some fishing to vet his creds and then move in. But then my friend opens her mouth and this is what comes out….
“Hi, have you met Emma yet? She writes erotica.”
And then the fun begins.
First off, it is such a surprising statement even in my oversexed city that there is always interest. Second, the interest isn’t always good.
Since I’ve started researching sex and writing erotica while still dating I’ve found the following reactions.
1. Voracious Interest. But this interest comes with an assumption that I am much more adventurous than I truly am – especially with strangers. I can talk about anything – I don’t judge – and I’m truly intrigued. But what I know, what I’ve seen, and what I’m willing to do either in public or private has nothing to do with what I write.
2. Interested Apprehension. This usually happens when I date someone. They have a certain amount of interest that is based more on what I write than who I am (I’m getting better at sussing this out thank god!) and things go the way they usually do. We end up in bed. But in that moment the interest turns to self consciousness and the encounter goes down the tubes. I have theories but I’ve never gotten anyone to tell me what is going on in their heads so they remain theories. They range from – we just talked about all these weird things, does she want me to do them? Will she be judging me? Am I as good, worse, better, than the other sex she’s had? Oh, god! am I going to end up in her next story?
3. Horrific Fascination! This is always a fun one. They run. They run so fast that you have no choice but to let them go. An absolutely beautiful man was trying to connect with me at the gym – for weeks. When we finally spoke he asked me what I did and that was the last time we conversed. The next time I saw him he wouldn’t even meet my eyes. Oh well, his loss.
Those are the main ones. They keep replaying in my life like a broken record. But luckily sometimes you get interest that is really intellectual, and someone who is intrigued by some other aspect of me that draws them more than the erotica.
My friends still love to tell people what I do. They find the reactions amusing and illuminating. I guess I shouldn’t take their fun away but there are times when I feel like a chess piece being moved into a position of vulnerability just to see how the other side will respond.
And then every once in awhile I get introduced to someone and they’re job is more salacious than mine, this is Portland after all.
Licks!
No comments:
Post a Comment