It may surprise some, but when I write erotica, I only ever imagine my partner in the scenes with me. She’d kill me if I didn’t… kidding! Honestly, there is nobody else I would rather imagine in these scenarios, even though we have sex for real. This is also about wishing women could see themselves through the eyes of the men who love them.
‘Who is she?’ she asked me. ‘The girl you fuck in your head when writing your erotica, the girl who gives you release when I am not in the mood. You describe her so vividly. I can see her flawless beauty, feel her perfection and see the love and lust you have for her. I’m intoxicated by the confidence of her sexuality and wish I could be like her.’
On reflection, the moment before the point of orgasm was the wrong time to ask me this question. Two bodies joined together, both caked in the sweat of our timeless and unbridled passion, the soft skin of her belly pressed to mine, her fingers tightly gripping my buttocks and the bedsheets below us damp with the evidence of our lust.
I look at her quizzically – that soulful pleading look in her eyes that captured my heart on our first date and hasn’t stopped since. My loins ache now for the final push and the moment of release, but I know she won’t let us finish until she has her answer.
‘Please,’ she repeats, ‘I have to know who she is. I have to know why you find her so intoxicating,’ she draws her arms around my neck and kisses me full on the lips.
‘Let me tell you about her,’ I say, ‘for she is beautiful and intoxicating. I cannot resist her. I want her more every day.’
‘How can I compete with such perfection? What is she, an actress? A model?’
I leaned forward and draw in a deep breath of her scent and whisper honestly in her ear. ‘Hers is the only face I ever see when writing. Hers is the only body I desire and heart I crave. Hers is the only mouth I wish to feel on mine. She is perfect and you need not compete with her. My darling, she is you. She is the version of you who has dispensed with her self-doubt. She is the version of you whose confidence in her sexuality knows no limits. She is the version of you who slides her hand seductively up my thigh and places my own hand on her breast or between her legs to show me what she wants. You ask who she is? Well, her body lies prone beneath me now with my aching penis buried deep inside her wanting her just as much in this moment as I ever have.’
She smirked and drew me to her. ‘That’s what I thought you’d say. Now, fuck me like it’s our first time and you can’t wait to write about it.’