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The other part of a sex scene

July 9, 2013

I’m a guy. So there are certain parts of a post that starts with “the other part of sex” that I shouldn’t need to say. Things I like. So I’m a pig, unlike those of the fairer sex who never, ever, look at a guy’s butt and figure how grabbable it is. Just for the record, I’m on to you. I remember that Diet Coke commercial with the construction workers.

Okay, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s talk for real.

There was a time in my life when the major attraction of the sex was…well, the sex. I mean, hell, you didn’t get undressed to play Parcheesi, now, did you? (Actually, some do…there’s a Facebook page.)

All that having been said, I like sex. I imagine you like sex. The very act itself is, when done right, enjoyable. And when it’s done wrong, it still has a certain appeal. And while there’s a place for wanton animal lust–for a session that started at the front door, and results in a trail of clothing and topped furniture to the bedroom–or perhaps to a different room of your mutual choosing–there’s another part of it.

There’s the feel of your lover’s soft body against yours. The warmth generated on a cold day by two naked bodies together under the covers. The comforting weight of your lover on top of you after the deed is done, when it’s just the two of you alone in the dark and it feels like there’s not a bone in either of your bodies. It’s not the harried, heart-thumping lead in, or the urgent probing and shifting until everything is just right.

This is different. There’s no urgency. There’s no rush. There’s no moaning or shouted references to deities.

There’s just you together in a silence that doesn’t need to be filled with words.

This is also part of a sex scene. In the right story at the right time, it can be the most powerful part.


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