“It’s not like that.” I replied, my face flush with embarrassment. “Okay, so maybe I imagine mom, but I’d never even consider trying it.”
“Good thing, ’cause she’d kill you.”
I grabbed the pile of pages and went to stand up.
“Wait!” Shelly said, reaching out and grabbing my wrist. “I said I’d help and I will. It’s just, well …”
“I know.” I replied, not daring to look up.
“Now, where were we?” She rifled through the pages as I sat staring at the table.
“Right, the shower scene. Now, you let things stew. Give it a day or two. Maybe some casual contact, he brushes against her, or a hug that’s just a bit lingering. Get her mind swirling, let the conflict build. This whole thing has to seem credible, like it might actually happen, right?”
“Got it.” I said, grabbing the page and scribbling some notes on the edge.
“By now, he should be hot as hell. I mean walking around with an almost constant hard on, and lots of lingering gazes. Oh, and he should be taking every opportunity to do things for her; anything that gives him an excuse to be around her.”
“Right, like maybe she comes home from a long day at work and he offers a massage.”
“Here we go again.” Shelly said, dropping the papers. “If he shows anything like aggression he’ll blow it. She’s the mother, she’s in control. Until she relinquishes control, he has to stay passive.”
“Okay, I think I got this.” I said, grabbing up the papers.
“Oh no you don’t.” Shelly replied, folding her hands across her chest. Something she always did when she wanted to look superior. It also managed to make her tits look bigger. Something I tried not to stare at.
“What now?” I said, the frustration getting the better of me.
“Look, the buildup should be fine now, as long as you take your time, but the actual sex scene. I mean, come on! Has Tina ever screamed like that when you guys are having sex?”
Her reference to my girlfriend took me off guard, and she must have quickly recognized the frustration in my expression.
“Wait a minute! You mean you guys haven’t? Are you serious?”
I just stared at the table. The embarrassment was overwhelming. “I just haven’t, well I uhm. It doesn’t matter. Anyway, we broke up last Friday.”
“Uhm, sorry. I didn’t know. What about your last girlfriend, what was her name, Cindy?”
I just shook my head, my face turning bright red.
“Fine, then whoever you’ve been with, have any of them ever screamed like that?”
I continued staring at the table. I wasn’t sure how this had ended up as a discussion of my own sexual experience, and I wasn’t happy about it.
“Look!” I said, finally raising my head to look at her.
“No way!” she cried out, her words making me flinch. “You haven’t, not with anyone?”
I couldn’t say it. I just nodded as I fought back my emotions.
“It’s all starting to make sense now.” she said, her voice taking on a much softer tone. “Look David. It’s no big deal. IT will happen soon enough.”
I just nodded, filled with embarrassment.
“Now,” she began, as she placed a hand over mine, “Anyone who thinks telling a woman “Suck that cock you bitch!” is going to do anything but put an end to the sex, they are wrong. In fact, if you’re going to write a sex scene, there should be almost no talking. Spend your time exploring the characters emotions, what they are feeling deep within themselves. He might want to tell her to suck his cock, but he better not say it, at least not that way. And the same goes for her.”