For those of us who’ve led sheltered lives, this is how it’s done:
by Kerry Cue
I was writing a suspense novel when, suddenly, two of my characters were up for it. This put me in an awkward position. Yes! Pun intended. Mention the word ‘sex’ and innuendos stand out like a shag on a rock.
As a newspaper humourist for 30 years, I’m a self-declared expert in all things including sex. The review I wrote of Fifty Shades of Grey for The Canberra Times (The Language of Porn Lite? It’s turgid like nipples, 2012) was appropriately caustic.
‘Mr Grey dedicates his life to arching his eyebrows, quirking his lips and stroking random objects with his long-fingered hand. Let it be said; there is a lot to recommend a long-fingered hand. This is the world where our hero’s eyes blaze, lips curl and brow furrows. You get the picture. That is, of course, when he is not pre-occupied ‘cocking his head’.’
Now I have to write an O-O-OMG sex scene Like a Virgin for the very first time and I’m channelling Madonna for some reason. I didn’t sign up for this, but the Law of Unintended Consequences had me by the … what? Balls Short ’n Curlies? Bulge? No, definitely not ‘bulge’. A bulge is something Lord Peregrine Payne has in his tight Regency pants in a 1970s romance novel.
Would my words come back to bite – possibly lick or maybe whip – me? Would Lord Payne cock his head and laugh in my face? This was Karma payback time. Would I win a Pull-it-Sir! Prize for bad sex writing?…