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The People Change Afterward by Ray Printer Friendly

I always get a little embarrassed when I write explicit sex scenes in my stories. I guess it’s because I feel that when you get too descriptive, you’re better off writing to the Penthouse Forums rather than on a family-oriented site like this one. ‘Cause we’re kid-friendly as shit around this joint, in case you couldn’t tell. My point is, when I write something “dirty,” I always feel inclined to shamefully hide it where nobody will ever find out about it.

With “People Change,” I was unable to do that, mostly because I had already posted several segments of it before I realized how sexual it was going to be.

I started writing this story with a clear idea in my mind: some girl sleeping with a famous internet author and getting burned by him. Maybe something along the lines of Tucker Max. While writing, I realized that any girl who would sleep with a guy like that would be at least half-expecting to get burned—or written about on his website, anyway.

I didn’t want that. I wanted the girl of the story to be completely caught off-guard. I didn’t want her to be some ditzy piece of trailer-trash that thinks any good-looking guy that doesn’t immediately punch her in the nose is a great guy, though, which meant that he actually had to be a good guy—or had to have been at some point. Because this girl was pretty smart, you know?

While trying to make this guy seem like he might be all right, I accidentally started liking him—maybe the guy really isn’t so bad. A bad burn can screw anyone up, though, and a really bad burn can screw you really bad. Hence, the wife/brother affair.

But I didn’t want to focus on the guy too much, which is why his backstory is so vague. But while I was thinking about him, I decided that rather than be some huge internet icon, it would be better for him to be anonymous. If you’re a super-huge web personality (maybe someone like Maddox), you would be a fool to think that your old co-workers wouldn’t find out about your site. I wanted him relatively unknown, and completely anonymous. But famous enough for her to accidentally stumble across his site, and famous enough that lots of other people had found out about it, as well. Like this guy and this guy. Not so huge that everyone in the world has heard of them, but enough to at least get interview offers and book deals.

But why the graphic sex? Isn’t that what you’re trying to justify here?

It is, and I’m getting to it. I tend to ramble on, though, as I think we all know. So we have this chick that’s going to get burned, and we have our guy. A casual fling between coworkers didn’t seem harsh enough, though, so I decided to make her really love the guy. I didn’t do a bang-up job on the whole getting-the-idea-of-true-love thing across, and I realize that. Every time I tried to express how this girl loved this guy, it ended up sounding like a high school love letter from starry-eyed cheerleader. “John on the football team is so dreamy, I just love his eyes. And his smile makes my knees go weak.” Or course in this day and age, I don’t think teenagers are so innocent, but being dreamy and having nice eyes sounds better than, “I wanna to be his baby momma.” (That’s an actual quote from a note one of my teacher friends confiscated from a student—kids these days.)

Anyways, love isn’t really my strong point, as I think we all know. I’m more into bitter sarcasm and booze than hearts and flowers.

But I tried, okay? Girl, guy, love, check, check, check. In my original storyline, the guy came in to buy drugs, and just happened to see her. She saw him as a lonely, broken man that needed healing love. And then he used her and threw her away.

That seemed a little harsh, even to me, but whatever. But as I grew to like the guy, I realized that even though he was no longer his old self, he still wouldn’t do shit like that. And even if he would, she wouldn’t. Even in love, she wouldn’t allow herself to be abused like that (referring back to that part about her not being stupid).

So instead of abused love, I went with shameful passion. Like she really dropped all of her inhibitions, because she felt totally in sync with this guy, but then she was remorseful as soon as they were done. Nothing heavy, just a little ashamed, just enough to worry about him telling the world. Which is why she mentioned his website.

In my head, I saw the two of them talking—through the course of the evening—about why he wasn’t with his wife anymore, and I saw him too ashamed to admit that his wife and his brother had sexed. Not his fault, but because we live in the society we do, it’s almost like it is your fault when your woman cheats on you, like you just weren’t enough of a man to hold onto her. So he’s too embarrassed to flat-out tell her about it, maybe he dances around the issue, talks about they just weren’t compatible any longer, how she left him, whatever.

And then when he finds out that Jackie knew the truth the entire time, it pisses him off. That alone wouldn’t be enough for him to post it on the site. But the issue was with trust, right? And that’s why he does what he does.

But why the graphic sex?

Oh, that. I wanted to show that this girl wasn’t always doing stuff like this, that this was a special occasion. I wanted her doing things that she normally wouldn’t even think of, acting in a way that was not like her usual self (also following along the “people change” motif). I wanted to show, during the night’s activities, that she was in awe of what she was doing, of how she was acting. And simply saying, “We had lots of crazy sex” just didn’t get the job done.

So, yeah, that’s why. Plus, sometimes it’s fun to push that line, to write shit that is genuinely unlike your norm.

Incidentally, while finishing this story, I decided to check into “adult fiction” contests and saw that there are a few sites that will pay good money for sex stories.



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