From the Archives
One of the best parts of sex is that we can let our hair down and get back to our animal roots. It’s the one place where animal nature rules, and that’s exactly as it should be. Personally, I think the shame factor that dominates so many peoples’ lives where sex is concerned, is rooted in the effort to separate us from our animal nature, an effort to take out the lust and the heat and leave in its place only the ‘getting in there, doing our business and getting out.’
There’s no cleaned-up, sanitized version of animals in rut. I figure that’s why it’s a naughty little secret that it’s a turn-on to watch the dog hump the chair leg. Sadly, we humans are supposed to act civilized – even where sex is concerned. While I love sexy lingerie and corsetry and stilettos I can’t walk in, I find it much more arousing to think about someone ripping down their jeans, bending over a stump in the woods and going at it loud and sweaty and nasty. Such a scenario implies no forethought; such a scenario implies spontaneity and raw, driving lust. Even writing that sentence raises my pulse rate just a little bit.
I think what we, as erotica writers do, is a testament to our own animal nature and to how much value we place on the biological fact that humans are every bit as sexual as any of our animal cousins. In fact, we may be more so because our urges have the power of imagination helping to stoke the already leaping flames of lust. That being said our playground, as erotica writers, is absolutely writhing with primal, biological, animal down and dirty possibilities. We are the ones who get to write sex like we all WISH it was rather than how it more often than not tends to be. And we are the ones who can use our imaginations and the power of the written word to stoke the fires of primal animal lust in all of our civilized, tight-shirted neighbours, encouraging them to loosen up and hump the chair leg, so to speak. My god, the heat of it, the throw-your-head-back-and-howl-at-the-moon elation of what we do is enough to send you running for a cold shower or your trusty vibe, or your sweetie.
We remind people that sex is a celebration of life and physicality in a way that absolutely nothing else is. We remind people that button-down is no substitute for going down, and that the dirty and raucous and wild mammal is still there someplace inside all of us just waiting to come out and howl at the moon and join in the rut.
Oh yes, I take my job VERY seriously, as I’m sure all of my erotica writing colleagues do. We offer a peek at unabashed, unashamed, rock-your-world sex. We offer a safe and secret place to experience the wildest, darkest, nastiest of our animal nature, without giving up our civilized selves. We offer the best of both worlds, and even
better yet, we give permission to experience both. We let a world that is too tight-laced know that our lust, our animal heat, our urge to rip clothes off and rut is alright. It’s not only alright, it’s one of the very best parts of our humanity. As erotica writers, we remind people that being animal is very much a part of being human, and we remind people that it’s time to embrace the animal in us and celebrate it.