Why Some People Like to Read Sex-Free Romance – Written By Bryn Donovan

Bryn Donovan, writer, optimist and geek, provides us with a fantastic blog post about ‘Sex-Free-Romance’. Thank you so much, Bryn! I love it!

 

 

 


Most readers of my blog know that I write some steamy romance. A few of you even know that in the past year, I got a new job editing “sweet romance,” which is the industry term for romance with no sex at all.
I’ve always enjoyed all kinds of romantic stories and movies as a reader and a viewer, so I don’t find it strange at all to work on both. I’m even in the middle of writing a sweet romance right now.

However, I’ve always known that lots of people, particularly people who haven’t read a romance in twenty years, treat steamy romance writers with derision. They make jokes about the goofy euphemisms romance writers supposedly use for sex organs, although almost all romance writers have discarded these in favor of more direct language.

They also behave as though writers of sexy romance must all be bad writers. Most romance writers are women, and there is some sexism at work here: a discomfort with women authoring sexual content instead of being the object in it.

I’ve known all that for years. What I’ve learned in the past year, though, is that plenty of people also deride sex-free romance.

 

Read the entire article here:

http://www.bryndonovan.com/2017/12/01/why-some-people-like-to-read-sex-free-romance/

 

 

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BOAW – Blog Fest – Girl Boner Entry – PG-18

This post is part of the Beauty of a Woman BlogFest VI! To read more entries, and potentially win a fun prize, visit the fest page between today and 11pm PST March 11th.

the-beauty-of-a-woman-blogfest-v1-2


Lies, boring sex and does size really matter?

Once upon a time… It was a while ago I was in a relationship I considered to be happy. It was a long-distance, long-term relationship, and later engagement. And there it languished. If we had lived closer together, I eventually had realized much earlier, that this guy was a lazy, lying, nightmarish sociopath. But for a while I was happy. He made me happy. He made me feel like I was the only one, the prettiest, the most beautiful woman! (I found out later he told this to at least 6 or 7 other women too – at the same time – but that’s not subject of this post).

At the time he made me happy, satisfied me in bed until I finally realized two things: The man had literally no idea how a female body works, and I wasn’t sure whether he was properly educated when it comes to the ‘birds and the bees’.

Maybe this might help him:

Yes, he carefully watched my reactions, and I figure his request for me to let myself go and make noises during sex made it easier for him to see what action leads to what reaction. But other than that, he was more or less helpless.

·    He had no idea why women menstruate

·    He had no clue how to recognize when a woman fakes an orgasm

·    He was totally oblivious how many orgasms a woman can have before dying

·    He figured the more orgasms, the better satisfied

·    The thought of a woman faking an orgasm just to get him off her finally never occurred to him.

As for me: I finally realized how boring this man was. All he was (and probably still is) interested in is sleeping, eating and sex. And there we go: He was even boring in bed. Due to us being apart for long times and then meeting again, it took me a while to find out that these sexual meetings always followed a certain program. Like a time frame, or maybe a ‘user manual.’

1. Tell her you love her

2. Tell her she’s beautiful

3. Tell her you missed her

4. Repeat point 1 – 3 excessively

5. Undress her

6. shower with her (because she insists)

7. tell her some more she’s beautiful

8. give her oral satisfaction

9. extend that until she screams

10. before she sneaks off (again), finally try to get your own satisfaction (provided it stands)

That was about it. There was no variation, no ideas, no new things, nothing magic, not even much fun after a certain time.

In the end, I finally just sighed and shortened the entire happening somewhere between point 1 and 4 – and again around point 7 and 8. Earlier screaming makes the entire thing end up faster, right?

And there was something else that irritated me to no end: his pride about the size of his penis. I just frowned at him when he mentioned the 9 inches. Do I need to understand what the point is why men need to show off their size? Provided of course they have it! Because of these 9 inches were, if not a lie, at least an exorbitant exaggeration. To this day I still believe he read that one number ‘upside down.’ It would explain a lot.

At the end it came as it had to: The relationship came to an end. Do I regret what happened? In a way, I do, yes. It shouldn’t have taken this long for me to realize how boring the man was, both in and outside the bed.

It took me a while to get out of the grief – but once I got over it, I thought, okay. Next time it will be better. And I thought it did…

*****

Unexpectedly and to my great surprise a man from my past showed up out of the shadows. Over 20 years ago we had worked together on a project, but once the project had ended, we’ve never seen each other again.

That man was so handsome when he was younger! Back then he had swept me off my feet. And now he came back into my life to do just the very same thing again. I’m no kid, and I usually don’t suffer from unexpected hallucinations. He got older, just as I did. We all change a bit with age. The only difference is that I’m realistic about it – he isn’t.

His way of making love with me was to ‘jump on me,’ wild, feral… his foreplay limited to the words “Are you awake?”

Considering the years before I had the most boring sex one can only imagine, this might have been a welcome change. For just a moment. Then I woke up. My man complained I was “too aroused.” I hate to say that, but I had to really, I mean, really control myself extremely hard not to laugh out loudly. Why? Let’s say it this way: As a woman in love, you don’t tell the man of your desire that he does turn you on, but unfortunately he’s got a penis about the size of an IHOP breakfast sausage.

And no, this is not me making fun of him. I’m 5’3″ and never had a child. My gynecologist uses his instruments the size for young girls – and still, I had the feeling having sex with my boyfriend was like throwing a wiener into a garage… What does that tell us? The good thing was: I knew it wasn’t me. He is that convinced everything about him, on him and in him is totally perfect, he had to find a reason why our sexual being together wasn’t as good as he wanted it to be. And since he “is” perfect, it was my fault.

Only a while later he told me, he wanted me to lose weight. – And that was it for me. Couldn’t he find a way to accept me the way I am; even more since he told me before that he would? I informed him that it was time to say ‘goodbye.’

To my great surprise, this got to me. I was extremely depressed after this separation. I missed him horribly… But I am lucky. I have the most wonderful friends on Earth. They helped me getting over him and comforted me.

I think the final moment when I was prepared to let go, was that particular day when I went grocery shopping and heard a song that reminded me of him. In a blur, our time together raced through my memory… and I thought to myself: “Really, girl… did you want to stay together with a man who is that bad in bed?” And then I started laughing.

It is, I might add at this point, a little embarrassing to laugh out loudly and being unable to stop, in the middle of a supermarket, right between broccoli and bananas. However, I made it out alive. The only thing I regret until this day is, that I never gave him “The Kamasutra” for his birthday.

*****

These two relationships taught me three things; I better keep in mind from now on:

1. I need a man who has a goal in life that goes further than meals, sleep, and sex. I need a man who moves his ass and works for what he wants and has a certain fantasy and ideas; a man with a certain education, whose messages I can read without flinching over the misspellings and who is experienced and interested enough to find out how to satisfy a woman. A man, with whom sharing intimacy makes my skin tickle, my skull explode until I can count the stars in the sky and my toenails roll up.

2. Does size really matter? To me, it does, yes. Do I compare? Was that one better than this one? Hell no! The size of the penis isn’t half as interesting as the man that’s accompanying it. But to me, there needs to be ‘something’ to feel.

3. I am, in my very individual and unique way, beautiful. And I deserve better than what I have been accepting of a relationship for the past few years.

 

I, therefore, decided to celebrate my beauty. I am unique; I am special, I am beautiful, I am humorous, loving, caring and helpful… I am many things; and yes, in bed I’m a revelation. *wink*

I deserve to have what I want, and I deserve to be happy!

*****

Love And Hate

Imagine there’s wonderful love in your life,

All of a sudden it turns into strife.

Future, perspective, all of it gone

And you’ve got no idea what you have done.

*

You start learning, what you had was but lies

and love, hope and memories, it all dies.

Life seems a blur and you’re walking through hell

And all there’s left is an empty shell.

*

This was the man who asked you for your hand

he wanted to marry you he said; a future on sand…

You fly across the world, wearing bubble pink specs

while all he ever wanted was sex.

*

To the same time, and that really makes you sick

he tells you again, if he could, you were the one he would pick!

The man is a liar, a sociopath of worst sort

And here you realize what he did was just tort!

*

Confidence, trust and beauty are void

All emotions in you are badly destroyed.

All he’s ever done was lie and screw

Shadows creep out of the darkness in you.

*

Anger and rage concentrate in your heart

tearing all emotions inside you apart.

You feel used, humiliated, hurt to be told of

him spreading word it was a “one-sided” love.

*

An emotion of darkness and terrible black,

crawls up in you, spreads out on skin and back.

You try to identify it, simply and clear

it’s neither pain, nor anger, nor is it fear.

*

It’s darker, it’s blacker, it’s shadow land.

You can’t control it, it gets out of hand.

Then you identify it, almost too late

what you’re feeling now is purest hate.

*

Ask yourself now, will I permit

that hatred will take over my whit?

That no matter what he’s done wrong…

is he really worth an emotion this strong?

*

Won’t it be better to keep my heart clear

of an emotion this poisonous and queer?

Probably yes, is the answer I trench

And still my inside wants revenge!

*

Thank God – I’m a writer… is all I can think

in my book I can make his testicles shrink,

I can shoot, drown and hang him, I know it’s quite tough!

My pen will avenge me – that will be enough.

*****

(March 4, 2016, Copyright Aurora Jean Alexander)