Sex Mishaps

Do you ever wonder why a super-high percentage of all sex scenes in erotic romance always seem perfect? The mood is perfect, the man's and woman's physiques are perfect, the candles are perfect, the dinner before...you guessed it...perfect... Seriously, how many sex scenes have you read where the heroine hollers at the hero to get off her hair or that he's pinching her boob too hard?

Well, if you’ve never read any of my books you’re in for a surprise. I write those mishap scenes, making fictional sex as real as I can (and yes I've written the super romantic perfect ones, too).

When I talk about sex mishaps I’m not speaking of faulty raincoats (great code word when kids are around), although that’s definitely something that will make you scream, “*&%^#@!” when the evidence is discovered.

I’m talking about those things that take you by surprise during sex.

One time a metal flash light came down off the headboard and cracked me on the eyebrow. The next day my entire eye was black and blue. Another time a spring broke in the bed and jabbed me in the ass. It gave “yee haw!” a whole new meaning. And one other time the entire bed frame collapsed. The resulting scream could have cleared a football stadium. The hubby thought it was hilarious, though.

And if you’re one of those unfortunate women who have sensitive bodies, a lubricant which heats up may not be the best idea. If it turns out you’re allergic to such a product, the words “Fire in the hole!” will echo in your mind forever.

Those are times I look back on with my husband and laugh.

Here is a shortie-short excerpt of a sex mishap for a Tuesday giggle. This is one of those real-life scenes where a person later looks back and thinks, “Holy sh**, please tell me I didn’t really do that!”

From Ruby, the White King and Marilyn Monroe.

When I stepped out of the bathroom carrying all my toiletries, Maureen struggled with putting the television back where it belonged. Heat flooded my face as I remembered Solomon and me falling recklessly upon the dresser, his hips thrusting against mine. Luckily, a chain attached to the back of the TV set had kept it from hitting the floor.

Evidence of our later sessions of wild lovemaking littered the room. The bedspread and pillows lay on the floor. The lamp rested on its side on the nightstand, its shade askew. The chair holding Solomon’s suitcase lay on its side, spilling the case’s contents across the carpet. My gaze came to rest on the motel room door. A forensics unit would have a field day analyzing the imprint of my ass on its shiny paint and the vague outline of the biker’s handprints melted into it.

Maureen glanced at me as she stooped to pick up the chair and suitcase. She grinned from ear to ear.

“I knew there was sexual tension between you two, but I had no idea how much!” She laughed.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, horrified she would say such a thing.

“And you think that I’m a bad girl!” She stuffed a shirt and a pair of trousers into the suitcase and zipped it shut. “I sure wish I could find someone who would make me holler like you did.”

Have you ever tried to be sexy and it turned into a disaster? Maybe you put on platform heels to dance for your significant other, fell off of them, and crash-landed in front of your partner (no, I haven’t done that. Don’t need to. I trip on flat ground let alone putting on heels). Once, I did put on sexy boy briefs, walked past the door, and got them hooked on the knob nearly ripping them off myself. Not only was it embarrassing, but it hurt, lol, and yes, the hubby thinks I'm hilarious. I’d like to see Janet Jackson fix a wardrobe malfunction like that!

Here’s one such mishap from my new release, Blood and Lust.

She hated taking cold baths, but at least the night was warm. Pulling off her boots, she stripped off her soiled clothing. Snatching up the bundle of ruined clothes, she strode outside and tossed her breeches and tunic into the sentry fire burning in the center of the stable yard. Naked, she hurried back to the barn. Devorah grasped her weapon and dragged it behind her as she ambled to a large swath of deer hide curtaining off a small area with a large wooden tub. She propped the blade in the corner and stepped into the round basin, grimacing at the cold bathwater. Slowly, she settled in it up to her breasts, her nipples hardening, pussy clenching at the intrusion of frigid liquid. She gasped. If possible, this would be a short bath. A jar sat on a shelf anchored to the stable wall. She scooped out a handful of flower-petal soap and worked it into her long tresses, then slapped more of the scented concoction on a ball of boar skin stuffed full of coarse moss. Scrubbing her body, she sniffed and wrinkled her nose at the faint odor of ogre shit still clinging stubbornly to her.

Shuffling in the barn reached her.

"Mychel," she called. "Will you bring me the hard, white soap from the house?"

"'Tis I, lass," the Dwarf replied. "I told the boy I would tend to the horses. Your eldest brother sent Mychel to the tavern for a skin of ale."

She sighed. Valhalla forbid if one of her brothers actually aided her for once. "I shall have to get it myself, then. Obar will not know where I store the soap."

Water sluiced from her body as she stood and reached for a heavy bath wrap hanging on a nearby nail. She wound the material around her form, took one step out of the tub, and caught her foot in the edge of the bath blanket. Her balance abandoned her. Devorah pitched forward and fell against the deer-hide curtain. It pulled free of its nails with loud, startling pops. She landed on her belly, and the air whooshed out of her lungs. Her wet hair flopped over her face, preventing her from assessing her predicament. Cool night air kissed her bare ass, which pointed to the rafters.

"By Thor's hammer," she hissed as pain from the impact with the hard stable floor seared her shoulders and knees.

"Lass? Are you—?"

She pushed herself up on her hands and shook her hair out of her face.

Sir Hestbone's dark, mirth-filled gaze swept over her nude body. A huge smile parted his mustache, and deep laughter rumbled out of him. Quickly, he turned his broad back to her, shoulders quaking with mirth.

Face afire, Devorah struggled to her feet. She re-wrapped the blanket around herself and stomped past the captain of war, who still wrestled to contain his guffaws.

"Are you well?" he asked between chuckles.

"Well enough," she snapped and hurried toward the door.

"Forgive me, lass, but I have not seen such a grand display—or such a fine backside—in a long time."

Heat flaming in her cheeks, she rushed out into the barnyard.

And let’s not forget the broken beds, busted easy chairs, and rug burn on the ass. However, if you’re lucky, one of these predicaments could turn into something that heightens the sexiness. Yes, sometimes a mishap can turn into a really sexy moment.

Forever Across the Stars, my Elatia launch book, has such an episode. Think beautiful spider-silk curtains on light, flexible support poles and a soft, pillow-covered mattress under it. Then think about two rambunctious lovers who knock it down on top of themselves, lol. Caught beneath the silky, sparkling curtains as they're entwined... I’d post an excerpt, but it’s a bit scorching for a blog, lmao.

So, do you have a sex mishap you’re willing to share with us? Hmm? LOL!

Oh, one more thing! Visit me over at Decadent Publishing's Elatia blog. If you love sci-fi and sci-fi romance, add this blog to your regular love-to-read sites. While you're there, remember to leave a comment on my "Consider This" blog for a chance to win a pretty bracelet! Here's the LINK.