Tiptoeing through the sex.

The fine line I walk writing a love scene.

I teeter between too flowery, too generic, too clinical, too graphic.

I've said before, I don't mind graphic. I like to read it, I just don't think I want to write it. 

I'm a little old school.

So the dance continues and kept me up last night. One something in the morning and I'm sitting on my couch deciding how he is going to touch her and how she will react to being touched.


It's like I'm spying on them.
I'm a voyeur. 
Watching, waiting. 

Deciding.


To be completely honest, I like it.

I like watching.
I like deciding.
I like being in charge.
I like causing their joy.
I like causing them pain.

So, who knew I was so twisted?