Sex. It’s so sexy, right? Sexy sex sex. That’s what Nic thought. Sex blogging? Gotta be good – a laugh, you might say. A veritable spree of hilarity. If only.
Nic has been trying concertedly to write something, anything, for about three weeks. And the best she can come up with consistently ends up somewhere on the scale that runs from awkwardly cringe-worthy to outright heart-breaking. Apparently Nic’s writing has traded in the sexy-to-funny scale for this piece of crap. It got a raw fucking deal. Really raw. The kind of raw you feel when you see your ex out with someone new and he blanks you after you’ve only been broken up for a week. That raw.
Perhaps Nic has been watching too many of those ‘girl loves boy, boy loves girl, boy and girl get swallowed by ruthlessly unjust and brutal world and die unfulfilled and unaware of their mutual affection’ films. Why do people make that shit? Who knows. Or maybe it’s because Nic has been listening to stuff like this:
Whatever. Either way, Nic can’t write fucking for shit. This is what she can do:
Touch me, lightly. Graze my naked shoulders with your finger tips. I’ll brush your ear with my lips as hold my cheek to your head, soft against your hair. Close my eyes and just…. breathe you. Your skin is hard and cool against my mouth. I want to bite, to kiss and pull gently on you, to groan a little, barely audible. But no, not now.
Do you know how beautiful you are? Do you?
I have wrapped my arms around you from behind, and as I move away from you they slip down your chest, over your heart, and reluctantly slide along your ribs and away from you, where it is so warm.
I know right? Like, why? What is even going on here?
Um, Nic. This is Lace, and this is an INTERVENTION. Here is a dildo and some sexy music to listen to through your headphones. You are going to go and touch yourself now. And if you don’t, I am going to make you sit on a vibrator while you read through your papers, and this is going to happen.
And then you are going to write the filthiest smut in all the blogosphere. Or I am going to come at you with handcuffs, ice cubes and my tongue.
And I won’t care whether you enjoy it or not.
…..And THEN you’re going to write some fucking smutty stuff. Mmmkay, pumpkin?