It’s the moment of truth. The clothes have been shed; the bulging underwear peeled away. Things are about to get hot and heavy. And you might be wondering, as a m/m reader or writer, is now really the time to whip out a packet of condoms, a bottle of lube, and a consent form?
Like with all fiction, romance and erotica involves the suspense of reality. Just how much suspension depends on the tastes of the author, though, and that doesn’t necessarily match up to what a reader is expecting. These are three of the most controversial topics I’ve come across (and sometimes stumbled over) as a writer…
Before we dive in, a note on language: I’ll be talking about sex and the things that go along with that, so while I’m not trying to write smut, here, this is NSFW nonetheless 😉
Condoms (aka “is safe sex sexy?”)
Little is as divisive in romance and erotica (well, maybe the need to have a Happy Ever After ending) as condom use. For every reader for whom its absence is a dealbreaker, there’s another who either doesn’t notice or – typically with equal volume to the first group – is annoyed by its inclusion. And there are good arguments on both sides!
For a start, these are made-up characters: it’s up to the author whether a sexual encounter will result in an infection (just like it’s up to the author whether they get hit by a car while crossing the road, or eaten by a rogue tyrannosaur). Availability of things like PrEP, or pre-exposure prophylaxis, has made the issue of “safe” sex in stories (and real life!) more complicated. PrEP can significantly reduce the chance of getting HIV from sex, though it’s worth remembering that it doesn’t stop other STIs.
I have, I confess, a double-standard when it comes to condoms.
When I’m writing M/M romance – or, at least, more mainstream romance, like “A Guy To Order” – I’ll usually try to include some mention of condom use between characters (or make it clear why they weren’t used). That feels more realistic to me, and I know a lot of romance readers appreciate it.
For erotica, or high-spice stories that have romance themes (like “A Neighborly Seduction” or “College Wrestler Secrets“), I generally skip the protection. Yes, that means, ahem, fluids go flying, and characters get up to all sorts of high risk behaviors that would be deeply inadvisable in the real world. But, suspension of disbelief feels like part and parcel of that writing (for me, anyway); I always include a note to the effect of “this is fiction and fantasy; please play safe in real life” at the start; and frankly reading about sex is probably the safest that sex ever gets.
Lube (it’s a slippery topic)
More lube. That’s pretty much it. More lube.
For genres where (often outsized, depending on how your reading tastes skew) objects are introduced with eagerness to openings, it’s eye-watering how little lubrication can be part of the story sometimes. Anal sex isn’t the only way M/M intimacy is demonstrated, and nor should it be, but it doesn’t feel like a bad idea to be realistic about what’s generally involved.
Copious quantities of spit can be sufficient, especially if there’s been plenty of foreplay. Precum alone seems more tenuous, unless you’re actively hunting out discomfort (I’m not here to judge your kinks). But there’s really nothing like the application of some handy dandy lube – whether water-based or silicone (but not with rubber toys, please), or even something makeshift like oil, butter, or alien tentacle slime – to make sure the friction involved is the best kind.
Like with condoms, some readers may not notice lube’s absence. Anyone who has felt the sting (or the unwelcoming squeeze) of anal without it, though, might be less forgiving.
Consent (or, “how do I know you really want it?”)
Along with condom use, the expectation of consent has maybe been the biggest change in spicy fiction in recent years. Like characters using protection, it’s not a must-have for every reader, certainly. And, as with the argument that these are fictional guys, having fictional hook-ups, in fictional worlds where STIs can be ousted with a few keyboard taps (and “accidental” pregnancy can be a plus in the plot; I’m looking at you, Omegaverse), the “this is all make-believe and consent doesn’t necessarily matter” argument also applies.
Personally, I think consent can be pretty damn sexy.
I like it when characters really, really want to be intimate with each other, though I haven’t always got it right. Some readers were (not unfairly) upset with one of my earlier free stories, “A Closer Shave,” for a scene where a college coach and his swim team student have sex, with the student feeling pressure to go along with it.
(It’s worth noting that, for every unhappy message I got, I probably also got one from a reader saying they loved that coach-student dynamic and found it hot. Every reader is different!)
Since I was serializing that story, and writing it as I published chapters, it turned into a redemption tale. However, with hindsight I wish I’d had at least a content warning (aka “CW”) to flag something some readers might find upsetting.
Power dynamics are tricky, and plenty of common romance/erotica tropes – like boss/employee and teacher/student – flirt with what’s come to be known as dubious consent, or dubcon. It’s something some readers love and others hate, and another good argument for being upfront with your content warnings and description.
The truth of the matter is that every relationship has a power component to it. Themes like age-gap (which I’ll probably write about in a future blog) and gay/bi-awakening often have an “experienced” partner and a “learning” one, but even a domestic situation can be skewed when it comes to who takes on which responsibilities.
I’m not here to judge what you like to read (or write); I don’t think there’s one single “correct” answer in any of these three topics. But I want to make sure that, if you pick one of my books, you’re hopefully getting the sort of content you prefer!