Warning! Adult Content! You must be 18 or over to read this blog post as it’s about sex and stuff. Also it would help if you had a really irreverent attitude about sex and stuff.
Romance writers sometimes get a racy reputation, but I’m finding that the more you write about love, the harder it is to write about sex. Maybe it’s exposure. Maybe it’s learning the craft. But after awhile, the mechanics of the process seem largely unrelated to the effect we’re trying to convey. A deep, passionate attraction and adoration hardly seems to match the physical realities of sex, particularly if said sex is on the adventurous side.
Case in point, my cats have a theoretical ménage relationship. Pierrot came to live with us at Thanksgiving after crossing a six-lane highway and freaking out animal rescue. He’s not particularly dominant however, so I thought he might provide good company for my other male without being threatening.
Lindor, my original male, needed company because Kaluha, the female, doesn’t like to wrestle. In stories, the woman is flattered to have the attention of two males, but Kaluha doesn’t want to play with either of them. She hides under the couch and hisses at both unless I’m serving dinner in which case, both boys better stand back.
The relationship between my two guys also doesn’t quite match the stories. Testosterone in real life isn’t sexy. I don’t want to make any sweeping generalizations that are unfair, but it wasn’t the female who needed extra litter boxes! My males’ dominance issues have destroyed one armchair and gotten both banned from the bedroom.
So unless your ménage involves a mop, vacuum, and lots of environmentally friendly cleansers, you may not be writing with biological accuracy. That’s okay. Even the grittiest reality needs romance. At the end of the day, all three kitties cuddle up and keep Mom company as she plays with words!