*Powder Monkey Lisa sitting high a top her cannon, rubbing it affectionately.*

Today dear mateys I would like to forge into the subject of appropriate description in writing a sex scene. Particularly describing what to call anatomy without reducing it to “He stuck his hard, throbbing tab A into her wet, hot, tight slot B.”

When I write a sex scene my mood reflects in my description. If I’ve experienced a particularly stressful day I write balls to the wall sex. There are no holds barred on adjectives or terminology. In other words I don’t care to call a cock a cock.

This brings me to the subject of what not to call a cock.

1. Throbbing member (sounds painful)

2. Hard Manhood (sounds like a hood ornament)

3. Pulsating Vessel ( sounds like a party boat….wait a minute maybe I need to rethink this one.)

I know these terms are often found in cheesy romance novels, and are perfect for some readers who don’t feel comfortable with graphic terminology, but those readers need to get in touch with prolific anatomy terms. And personally I am a writer who wants to join the ranks of those who can open a whole new sensual experience for the sheltered reader.

Now for a trip through what I like to coin Bush Gardens, or the female anatomy. For me personally, even on a balls to the wall sex writing day, I find it difficult to call a clit a clit. I’ve never liked the term. It is impossible to find a word that describes a clit without sounding ridiculous. I have sited some examples below.

1. Hard nub (sounds like it belongs in a box of corn nibblets…)

2. Ground Zero (It seems wrong to name a clit after a historical monument.)

3. Pleasure Piece (well put that in your pipe and smoke it!)

And on an even lower note the terms used for the vagina. This is the only part of the the anatomy other than the penis that I deem necessary to rename. The term vagina and penis are too medical to sound sexy to me, thus bringing us back to the mechanical insert tab A into slot B.

Terms not to call a vagina.

1. Tunnel of Love (this is a ride found at an amusement park!)

2. Velvet Glove (Conjures images of Michael Jackson ewww…)

3. Pussy (A term I admit I use at times, but *cough* hair ball…)

On a more serious note, I find that the best smut I write is the least descriptive. I describe more about what the characters sense than the act being performed. I think that I learned something very valuable early on in my writing and that is- Less is More. Describing the way a character feels in a sensual situation can be far more stimulating than describing the actual act itself.

I’m ending with this question-how much description is too much in a sex scene, or is it all or nothing for you?