My name is Viveka Portman – I write Erotic Romance, and my book The Secret Diary of Lady Catherine Bexley is up for Best Erotic Romance in the ARR Awards.
In response I usually look at my interviewer wink and say ‘you really don’t want to know…’ and in many ways it’s true –
But today, I’m going to let you in on a little confession.
The sex acts I write about aren’t always what titillate me personally, but I do I try to think of things that will titillate other people.
Wow – that sounds bad.
Allow me to elaborate. In the world of sex there is so much more out there than just ordinary, missionary action. Of course we all know that, but keeping the sex in your book fresh and exciting without compromising your computer security by visiting porn sites can be a challenge. Imagination can only get you so far….
So, last year, a friend and I set out to do some research at an expo about sex.
Sorry to disappoint but frankly there was very little sexy about this expo apart from the name.
We entered the venue – after being handed a ‘goodie bag’ (these aren’t goodies like those at ARRA conventions that you put on your bedside table TBR pile for later. Oh no – these are the goodies you lock in a drawer in your bedside table for later!)
We were then confronted with a gentleman painting portraits with his penis. Yes, he had a very stretchy appendage, let me tell you. It was a fascinatingly HORRIBLE spectacle. My eyeballs are beginning to bleed, just remembering it. See how I suffer for my art?
However, to be fair, his portraits were remarkably good.
Next there was a burlesque show. The costumes were nice. Really that’s all I can say, because I was so distracted by the enormous breast implants of the dancer everything else faded into the background.
Then there was the ‘ladies’ room’ in which we watched a number of ‘full monty’ male strippers. These gentleman really did have the balls to bare it all – it was just a shame about their members – unfortunately rather diminutive to the erotic romance writer’s eye.
I feel I must mention my disturbing conversation with a male submissive who had a blood play fetish, just in case I ever choose to write a paranormal of that genre. Did you know there is a difference between blood play and needle play? No? I do now. Suffice to say, the video footage that accompanied the gentleman was something I’d rather not have witnessed – though it created a convenient opening for an interesting discussion about the pleasure receptors being heightened by the stimulation of pain receptors. Now where can I fit that in a book?
What came next? Oh yes… the ‘toy’ stalls.
I don’t know what comes into your mind when you hear the word ‘toy’… but I can bet it wasn’t urethral stretchers or butt-plugs the size of butternut pumpkins.
The range of ‘toys’ was phenomenal, really it was, and, yes, I did ask the girl at the stall if she actually sold any of the rather bizarre numbers. She said ‘yes’, she most certainly had.
We took some time dissecting and studying the toy stalls, with the kind of horrified fascination you have when you watch ‘Embarrassing Bodies’. Then I found a homemade soap stall – and brought some cake-shaped soaps for home – my only purchase at the entire expo.
When I got home my husband cheekily asked, ‘how was the expo?’ What could I say? Really? Had it changed or enhanced my own sexuality? Probably not. Had it scarred my brain with images of needle play, fake breasts and urethral stretching? Yes indeed it had.
My reply, in short, was ‘What has been seen cannot be unseen’.
Needless to say, my eyes have been opened wide (perhaps by some strange apparatus someone with an eyeball fetish may like to use) to the extraordinary breadth and depth of human sexuality that I may (in some degree) use to entertain my readers in the years to come.
Join ARRA to vote: http://www.australianromancereaders.com.au/join.html