EROTIC FUTURISTIC SPACE SEX

Space. Sex.

*Looks around*

*Whistles*

Anything? Bueler? Hello?

Just putting it out there. Have any of you guys thought about what sex looks like in the future?

Oh, come on. I’m not talking about your personal love life situations. It’s on a broader scale. I mean, in terms of what that intimate sharing would entail, do you have any idea?

I’m spit-balling here because…? Normally, I’d tell you that I’m angry, but let’s go with disappointed.

*Looks right at you*

The concept of sex followed by the word disappointed is never what I aim for, so this is what got me riled.

Germs and conditions – ha, sounds like terms and conditions, but I digress. Germs and certain conditions are specific to the news media treatment of them. Just saying given, you know, the current clime and, well, very specific acronyms I’ve seen. COVID instead of coronavirus. SARS instead of severe acute respiratory syndrome. ADHD instead of Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. ADD instead of attention deficit disorder, and GTHAFM (Get the hell away from me) instead of, “You are sick with cooties and I don’t want your plague-like ague! Get better, man, and then we can talk.”

That last is totally reasonable, given that I’d have the thirty-foot pole out.

*Doesn’t even blink at you when I admit*

In the seventies and eighties I was forced to joust that way with family, friends, and countrymen, over colds, flus, virus’ and the annual mystery bug that the global community always purposely blamed some country for releasing, at a time when we were all politically mad at them for something.

*Raises brow at you*

Co-inky-dink? I doubt it. But I don’t have time to delve into trade wars, personal grudges, and the old childish taunt of, “I'm Rubber, you're Glue! Bounces off of me and sticks to you.” The only thing I want sticking to me are the antibodies. 😊

Anyway, this is what I’ve been thinking about. Nothing spells a happy ending for a pandemic better than an uplifting tale of...? What? That’s the problem. There is no happily ever after and that’s my jam.

For me, I’ve had a look at the dystopia movies that show a grim outcome of things. I’ve heard people espouse on the gruesome facts in-depth. There is only one thing worse than a stagnant economy and zero growth and that’s the prediction that we will be a non-touch society in twenty or thirty years. What do I say to that?

Nothing.

It’s merely the opinion of others I don’t share. Instead, I’ve decided as an author I’m going to write my way back from this form of tragic thinking I refer to as a dystopia urban decay scare-farse-ity tale. Some people love them and I'm good with it. For me, though, I want that happily ever after. I want it delivered to my readers with a different journey every time, but arrive it will. And, in order to do this, I have to plan my writing path carefully. In my tale, I’m skipping right to the part where they’ve survived the slow economic growth and tried the physical separation idea, and are now ready for a change.

*Deadpans*

Sue me. I’m all about a happy ending and if it comes by way of common sense, then so be it.

Exhibit A: A no touching – no joining to culminate in a child making reality means low energy. Do not mistake this for people who try and can’t get pregnant – their energy at the prospect would be very high. I’m talking about a perfunctory ritual because the natural option was forbidden. There’s a big difference between being fully capable and denied, and being denied because you are not fully capable.

Think about it.

Exhibit B: Petri dishes. I’ve said it before, and I truly mean it. When I was a kid, I got sick with a cold – tonsillitis, chicken pox, and a typical flu once in a while. Each time was different. Sometimes worse sometimes not so bad. Then I had children and they got sick. Did I wear a mask? Nope.

*Looks right at you*

Not going to say I wasn’t looking for that thirty-foot jousting poll on occasion because I was, but I couldn’t. Those little walking Petri dishes of mine needed my hugs and I would not be absent from giving them.

Translation? I managed despite the illnesses that were visited upon my household. I believe I was building up immunity to certain strains of things, you know, plague-type pestilence crap. Point it? I’d be a survivor when the sh*t hit the fan (in terms of end of the world pandemic crap).

Seriously, when the food ran out, I’d be the one picking the gum off the sidewalk to keep my bereft-of-the-real-food–jaws limber for when I did find something worth eating.

Exhibit C: Your children, no matter how old, young, or stubborn they may be, they still want to know that mom and dad got this sh*t. Whether it’s a financial hardship, the plague, or a soft coup of their local government trying to take them over, Mom and Dad are in control of all.

Hey, I’m not going to disappoint my children.

I'm not going to disappoint my readers. They know I'm a HEA lover. What does this mean?

As a romance author I feel it’s my duty to make sure that the reader gets their happily ever after. That’s why I would be compelled to dig myself out of a financial problem, stick my middle finger up at the plague, and laugh at the political players antics as they tried to circumvent the ironclad American constitution in order to put the words to the page.

It’s also why I would and have written my futuristic romances from the reconciliation point forward. I wouldn’t have been a part of the urban decay dystopia upheaval. It’s not my personality.

*Leans in to whisper, I'd probably be the lady out in the middle of the street during a cherry bombing sweeping up the mess before it hit the ground even as I yelled at every one of the rotten doers in a language they didn't understand. <- Hey, nothing spells stay the hell away better than the old crazy lady routine* ha, ha!

*Deep breath*

But, being that the story is the future—my kind of future, I know we will all came back from this momentary dystopia with a wiser, better, and more appreciative attitude toward the physical sharing.

*Wags finger at you* Don't judge. My characters will have been deprived...

I’m a writer, what can I say?

Did I mention those previously denied characters did have some really enlightening things in that future? Not stuff that’s hard to understand or learn about, but actually evolved crap that you get to enjoy in the joining process and that’s what’s cool about writing my tales. The sex is going to be pleasure on steroids. A physical reaction that transcends to a higher level of self that isn’t a cliché or driven by meditation. It’s simply an evolution of the spirit – long suppressed, that’s ready to emerge once the re-convergence of a physical connection is possible again. Yay!

How cool is that?

In terms of delivering a happily ever after, I would say with all impunity, it’s going to be awesome.

*Waves hand at you*

Yeah, I know every author says that about their work, but in this case I’m doing research. I’m going to dive into the hearts and minds of brilliant intellectuals who know about such things.

Sew… you got any good ideas about the sex in the future that is full-physical contact and spectacular?

What? It can’t hurt to ask.

I have a few new gadgets that I’m planning to write into one series (video above) but mostly the ideas I have are all about knowledge. My other series, there’s a teaser below, is more mystical. Not magic. Think karma sutra meets missionary, but wild-monkey (<- that’s not with real animals, by the way) Romeo, and his brand of rakishness when he's ready to tame that unicorn woman who is part shrew, and all feminine splendor with an edge that can cut and heal, depending on her whimsical mood (<-that’s not a mood swing chemically altered by any substance, by the way). She manages to be emotional all on her own…Oh, wait. Scratch that last. I might bring in the old Mendle juice (an all natural elixir that I introduced in a previous book – totally fabricated by my own imagination so as to what it does? Completely open to any plot hole I need to fill which is perfect for a couple looking for an impossibly fabulous good time, you know?) We’ll see how that shakes out.

*Waggles brows while I twirl my handlebar mustache*

Point is, the words are what will be making the sexy happen. Not with dew-glossed eyes or anything, but my usual contemporary speak. No high-tech terminology either, unless I make that up too. I do love a good made-up word. There’s two in this post. :D

I gotta be honest here when I tell you, I don’t mind doing the research, but I feel inauthentic using it when I can be so authentic falling in love with a made-up concept I really want in my life, which, you know, works for my hero and heroines.

If you are interested in sharing your thoughts on space sex approached from the

perspective described here, feel free to leave a comment.

If you have some super secret tricks no one knows on the subject, by all means, expound upon them.

If you just want to ask me when this series will be published? Ask, and I’ll tell you.

If you don’t like hot and erotic space-time-travel D/s over-and-under toned romances, I got you covered. I have a very large single title almost ready to be publish. I got stuff.

See?

This is my more mystical story

SHE WORE RED

Excerpt:

It was always the same with them. She arrived in her mode of travel and kept up her formal elegant self until they were in the aside. That’s what he called this glassed-in area. Their privately rowdy places, that were rife with an energy that inspired grand schemes. This is when the real lady arrived. Gone was the elegant businesswoman and out came the whisky drinking, strongly opinionated, yet very attractive soothsayer who surfaced with a contagious glee that was difficult to walk away from.

Lately he’d found himself thinking about their time together, looking for her as his best choice of a companion. Over a male companion, being the sort of individual that cut balls off - laying men and sometimes women, low.

He saw the bottle flash to pour. “Here, try this. It’s called Rum. It’s sweet, but only a little. Best part about it? This won’t give you a headache or take your senses.”

He accepted the exquisitely cut crystal goblet. With her, there was nothing but the best from her conjured offerings.

“We’ve got a stake in this, my lord. I can hardly wait until the shipments arrive. That reminds me. I’m going to have to send word. I think they—we, may need to build another warehouse.”

The drink was smoother than anything he’d tasted in quite some time. The fact that she was waiting on his reply, made the swallow all the better. “It’s good, my lady. Fortunes will be made, surely, but what of the hordes to the east? Is it war for us?”

“No war.” She downed her glass and then held the bottle out to him first for another pour. After she splashed some in his goblet and then her added to her own, she gave him a silent toast. “As I said. Things are better than I expected.”

He couldn’t believe the horde had relented so fast. There was only one reason. An outcome that would bring him to war in any case if she’d given that of herself. “Did you barter your freedom for ours?”

She had her glass halfway to her mouth when she hesitated, bringing it down. “Mine? If anyone was going to lose their freedom in such a deal, it would have been you.”

She eyed his slow smile, he liked that she measured it, before she narrowed a look at him. “Do you mean marriage as fair exchange? Good, lord, no. I’ve worked too hard to succumb to that lack luster endeavor.”

“Succumb? You are against the concept?”

“Not as long as I’m in control of the exchange. War is not noble enough to cause me to entertain it.”

“What of love?” He had to ask, given his current feelings.

“I would say better than war, but I’m too practical for either. Not to worry, though. There is hope as that same practicality lends itself to certain necessity.”

“That marriage is key?”

“I believe so.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He couldn’t wait to find out what sort of necessity he was going to have to conjure to get her to consider him. Soon enough he’d find out. Right now, he needed to stay focused on the deal. “So, what did certain peace cost us?”

(End of Excerpt)

As always, thanks for stopping by!

Riley