Page 21 of Foreplay on Words

“Okay, do you want me to be completely honest with my impression of these, or do you want me to hold your hand?” I pulled the stack of papers from my bag and put them on my lap. There were multiple colors of post-it flags hanging from the sides, and red pen pretty much covering the pages.

“That bad?” he cringed, looking down at my notes.

“It could be worse?” I trailed off. It could be, but not much. I felt like I was an English teacher telling someone they failed an essay that was worth half their grade.

“Shit. Might as well rip me a new one.” He shook his head with his eyes closed. As he pinched the bridge of his nose, I felt a pang of sympathy.

“I promised you I’d be gentle,” I coaxed, hoping I didn’t break his spirit on day two.

Evan

Connecticut

“Okay, like this part here. You might have just as well typed ‘insert tab A into slot B’.” Chase frowned at the paragraphs describing their interaction. “Does the word insert sound the least bit sexy to you?”

“I guess not. Are you going to pull out your porno thesaurus and give me a better synonym?” If she was going to continue to tease me, I could give it right back.

“As a matter of fact.” She picked up her phone and started typing something quickly before she held it up for me to see.

“Urban Thesaurus. What is that?” I frowned. Urban Dictionary was a little wild; I couldn’t even imagine what the thesaurus would hold.

“It’s a dirty thesaurus,” she grinned as she typed something into the search field.

There was a listing of random words—some overtly sexual—underneath where she had typed the word missionary into the search field.

“What does an angry orangutan have to do with sex?” I asked. I was way out of touch.

“Click on it,” she giggled and then bit her lip, holding back an amused smile.

Well, that was not what I was expecting.

“Oh, my God. Do you actually use this stuff to write?” My voice was a little astonished but mostly appalled.

“No,” she shook her head, her light curls bouncing around her shoulders. “Usually, I consult it when I want a laugh. People are into some interesting things.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her assessment. Some people were into different things, but it wasn’t my place to judge.

“Clinical-sounding words like ‘insert’ need to be the first things to go,” she told me as she pointed back to the marked-up pages in her lap, getting us back on track.

“And what do I use in its place?”

She didn’t even hesitate as she started listing off words. “Glide, slide, slip, push, thrust, drive. Depends on the context.”

“You are like a walking thesaurus,” I marveled. Those verbs were not even in my toolbox of words to describe sexual interactions.

“It’s one of my many talents.” Her wink threw me a little off guard, but I could only imagine what other talents might lie in that curvaceous body of hers.

“So, what else?” I asked, clearing my throat and forcing myself to stay on topic. She was here to help me, not be objectified.

“The whole goal of a scene like this is to draw the reader in and capture their attention. If their heart doesn’t start beating faster as they read it, it’s not hot enough.”

I watched her eyes dilate as she looked up at me, and I wanted to be the reason her heart started beating faster.

“What makes it hot?” I felt like I was completely clueless.

“Using provocative words, describing a sensation—you want them to be picturing the act as it unfolds.” Her voice was breathy, and I pictured some things I wanted to unfold with her.

The writer’s best friend was the human imagination. If you could paint a picture vivid enough for the reader, they could truly immerse themselves in the story.

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