This is a reload of the Guest Blog I did for Kharisma Rhayne's Red Lipstick Journals blog on Monday, March 5, 2012. I hope you enjoy!
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“If music be the food of love, play on!”
Writing erotic tales is really a lot of fun, and, you would think, relatively easy to do. But the fact is, writing good erotica takes both a lot of effort and a lot of inspiration. Effort is needed in the development of good characters and plots – even short erotic tales need these to raise them above the level of pornography that they are often accused of being. Inspiration is required to keep the stories fresh and different, finding new scenes and characters, and avoiding the sameness that spoils so many offerings of all genres. For me, much of this inspiration comes from a lot of the music I have both grown up with, and that which I listen to today.
Rock and pop music today is littered with the profanity and sexual content that is the hallmark of music today. Growing up in the 1980’s, I had to listen to a lot of the music my parents played from the late 60’s and early ‘70’s, when the sexual content was much more subtle and, consequently, much more erotic. For instance, one of the favourite groups of the early ‘70’s was “T. Rex”, lead by the bopping elf, Marc Bolan. Much of T.Rex’s music is littered with hot, sexual suggestions and statements –
“Ooh, lady, I love your chest, oh, baby I’m crazy about your breasts, woman!” (Raw Ramp)
“Oh, dreamy lady, won’t you come to my bed? Night is the right time to get acquainted with my head, in my bed!” (Dreamy Lady)
“Oh girl I’m just a vampire for your love, and I’m gonna suck ya!” (Jeepster)
And the list goes on – drop me a line if you’d like to know more! ;-)
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Raw Ramp by T. Rex
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Maybe the raunch started with groups like The Rolling Stones, with dear old Mick enjoying his “Brown Sugar – how come you taste so good? Brown Sugar, just like a black girl should!” But there was certainly a big shift at that time from the sweet love and peace songs of the mid-to-late 60’s to an edgier content, and that caught my imagination as I grew up, sowing the seeds of what would eventually become a strong sense of the erotic. This was tuned and refined through impressions gained from listening to a lot of New Age music – Enya, Enigma, Mike Oldfield – which fed the visions in my mind while providing me with stimulation of the soul that fed the stimulation of the body that is the marriage that makes erotica more than pornography. Music was the channel that focussed and fed the emotion behind the scenes – a channel that, for the reader, is sadly lost when reading the written word.
As a prime example of how music inspires me, I have included below a passage from a fantasy novel I have been working on for some years, called “The Pentateuch”. This is the story of Powell, a young man with mysterious powers who believes himself to have been orphaned many years prior to this event. For the last 8 years he has lived in a hidden enclave, being educated by a prolific group of intelligentsia from a number of races. During that time, he has grown up and shared his life with Mika, a young woman of a sylvan forest race, with whom he has fallen deeply in love, unaware that she feels the same way about him. Mika is the daughter of a sorcerer king and, as such, has wealth and power far more than Powell knows. The scene below is where she finally makes it truly plain to Powell how she feels about him, whatever the consequences!
This scene was always part of Powell and Mika’s tale, but it only became an erotic scene when I first heard a piece of New Age music called “Season of Growth”, by Marilyn Rife and Alice Gomez. This wonderful modern North American Native piece fit perfectly with the scene that then developed into that below, totally changing the style and emphasis of the piece, and my entire outlook on the book. The more I listened to the music, the more the erotic content of the piece developed, and, just like that, Ashen White became an author of erotica! I loaded this tune up onto YouTube, so you can read the excerpt and listen to the music at the same time. If the music ends before you finish reading, just hit Replay!
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Season of Growth by Marilyn Rife and Alice Gomez
An excerpt from Book 2 of “The Pentateuch” by Ashen White
The glow of the full Summer moon lit the pathway as Mika slowly stepped down into the secluded privacy of her garden, the cool blades of grass tenderly tickling her toes. At the far end of the lawn, his back to her, broad and muscular, his shadow long and distorted from the rays of moonlight, Powell stood staring up at the silver globe, unaware of her approach. The dim chirrup of crickets and the low calling of birds on the lake drifted away as she stepped over to where he stood, her long dress swirling about her nakedness as she moved, anticipation and desire growing inside her. Her chest tightened as she neared him, and her sudden intake of breath caused him to turn around.
Abruptly, she felt almost naked in his gaze, but the look of admiration and passion flaring in his eyes told her all she needed to know. His lips opened, smiling and aroused, and she watched him swallow hard as her perfume and body scents drifted across the evening air to his face. Then they were next to each other, her hair flowing in the gentle breeze, his eyes devouring her nearness, her rising breasts, the pale flush of her cheeks.
“Mika,” he sighed, awe-struck by the vision before him. “You look bea…” Her finger stayed his lips before he could say any more.
“Tonight,” she said, “is for the silence of the forest and the vision of the moon.” She took his hand in hers and gently held it to her cheek, feeling the blood pulse in its veins, feeling its warmth on her skin. He ran his fingers along her cheek to stroke her neck, and her long, flowing hair. Cupping the back of her head in his palm, he gently drew her lips to his, while she playfully resisted, and then succumbed to his gentle force. His lips were soft and warm and firm, just as she had always hoped they would be, and her body trembled as his tongue sampled hers. The sweetness of the mead he had been drinking, warm on his breath, flavoured his mouth as, deeper and stronger their mouths combined in passion. The heat from her tingling lips spread warmth through her body, and she felt herself molding into him.
Pulling back, she surprised him, questions filling his eyes as she smiled playfully at him. Slowly she lifted his hand and placed it on the cord at her neck, willing him to pull. Powell needed little urging and, as the cord came away in his hand, the neck of the dress opened wide, and the flimsy cover fell to the lawn. Mika shivered slightly as the evening breeze washed over her naked body, rippling through the hair at her loins and rubbing gently at her hardening nipples. She saw the look of wonder in Powell’s eyes, that flamed into desire as he came forward to embrace her. Her body shook as their mouths met again, but this time her hand busied themselves in loosening his tunic and pants, which he flung away in impatience as his passions ruled his mind.
She looked over his nakedness for the first time, seeing the muscles ripple on his chest and arms, the definition in his stomach, and, dropping her eyes, the growing hardness of his manhood. Then they were entwined, his warmth covering her, his arms enfolding her, his hardness pressing hotly against her, heating her within, making her wet with need. Gently he lowered her to the lawn, then lay beside her, kissing her deeply, as his fingers ran the length of her body. She moaned gently as his hand came to rest on her breast, rubbing her nipple gently, sending fire radiating into her. Instinctively she reached out to grasp his pliant hardness, as his mouth covered her other breast, adding fury to the ministrations from his other hand. Moments passed in a blaze of radiance as he slowly worked his way down her body, kissing and nibbling and teasing her sensitivity. Her back arched as his fingers ran gently across the moist lips of her yoni then down to circle the sensitive skin between the wetness of her sex and her rear orifice.
Suddenly, his weight beside her was gone, and she opened her eyes in surprise! At that moment she felt his hands gently part her thighs, opening her up to his gaze, her wetness flowing free. She sighed as his face came close to her wanting sex, his breath warm on her lips, and quivered as the warm, moist strength of his tongue delved within, tasting her need. Her fingers twined into his hair, holding him against her as he circled the hard nub of her clitoris and sucked her labia into his mouth, again and again. A flame grew within her she had never felt so strongly before, rushing through her body and limbs with a voraciousness she never knew was possible, knotting her muscles and tightening her breasts and throat. In the distance, she could hear someone calling out, then realised it was her, in the throes of orgasm, as Powell sucked her to oblivion.(Copyright © 2012, Ashen White)
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And that’s just the start of a really special night for both of them. Of course, there’s always consequences to these tales, and the rest of the second volume of The Pentateuch revolves mainly around those consequences. I hope you enjoyed reading and listening to this excerpt as much as I did writing it.My thanks to Kharisma for sharing her blog with me, and allowing me to bring a little of my work and wonder to you.