Impotant people

[NotWise]

Important people

I wrote a short thing for the "describe your first sex" thread in Writers Challenges and Exercises, and it made me think about some of the other people who've shaped the way I relate to others. I thought I'd try this.

Can you describe a person who's thoughts, experience, relationships have influenced the way you think about and write about other people? Do you include them in your stories?

I'd start with Sioban (not her real name). She was very Irish, very Roman Catholic, and very red-headed.

Sioban was, more than anything else, just fucking difficult to deal with. She was a genius, gifted in language, and very sexual. She also had memorable tits and a reputation. There were no rules that she wouldn't at least question, and usually break.

We weren't long out of high school when our old group got together again. She'd already had three boyfriends commit suicide. One of them died in her lap. I guess she liked fragile guys.

I was on a gentle psychedelic high the last time I saw her. Mescaline, maybe. I can't remember for sure. It was late on a summer night. We sat on granite boulders off a walkway at Mount Rushmore where she managed the dormitories. We talked and watched through the pines while Scorpio crossed the southern sky. I have no idea what happened to the other people I was there with. They didn't matter.

I looked her up a few years ago. At the time, she was a tenured English Professor at a small college.

Sioban has no place in my stories, but maybe every woman I write has some of Sioban in her.

 

[SimonDoom]

Yes. First, don't get mad at me when I say your thread title "Impotant people" made me laugh. Having read your opening post I know what you meant, but I can't help but think how amusing and different the thread would be if people took you to mean "impotent people."

There was a woman I dated a while ago, early in my post-divorce years, long before I started writing smut stories. We dated briefly, only a few months. I became totally smitten by her, and she broke up with me and left me for someone else. I was crushed. I moved on, but she sticks with me in my creative memory. She was intelligent and beautiful and wonderful with word-play. Her text messages were like sex, even though there was nothing overtly sexual about most of them. And she walked an interesting fine line between, on the one hand, wanting to be discreet and appropriate and not risk the world's disapprobation, and on the other hand, wanting to cut loose and be sexy and irreverent. She was feisty and strong but also willing, on occasion, to be submissive when we were together. And there was an exquisite erotic frisson to that conflict in her two ways of being that has always stuck with me and drives much of my erotic creativity and my story-writing. I think about her often when I write.

 

[NotWise]

Yes. First, don't get mad at me when I say your thread title "Impotant people" made me laugh. Having read your opening post I know what you meant, but I can't help but think how amusing and different the thread would be if people took you to mean "impotent people."

It's a form of blindness, I think. I fixed it.

Edit: Well, changed it one place, but not another.

 

[ScrappyPaperDoodler]

My most formative relationship involved two people.

'Jane' (obviously not her real name) was in a relationship when we met, but the chemistry between us was very strong. Still, she didn't want to cheat on her boyfriend at the time, but she was sufficiently manipulative to make a plan...

Jane had a twin sister and pushed really hard from both sides to get the two of us into a relationship. It was like she lived vicariously through the relationship and — in many ways — she controlled the whole thing, including having a massive influence on the level of intimacy. See, her sister was incredibly insecure when we started dating, especially about her sexuality, and Jane leveraged that to keep herself relevant in our lives. Eventually, as Jane broke up with her boyfriend, she started 'offering what her sister couldn't while also making up stories about her sister being promiscuous and involved in secret relationships. The sister did have a pornography habit, which she kept to herself, and her unwillingness to be open about it plus my assumption that Jane wouldn't be intentionally cruel and dishonest towards her twin led me to believe the stories and we broke up as a result.

Long story short, I was lucky to get out of that one but it lasted for two years. Eventually, Jane and I dated but it fell apart as quickly as one would expect. After it was all done, it took another two years before I was comfortable getting into another relationship.

I've never writing the story as it happened. However, I think the cynicism it inspired led to my work featuring uncomplicated relationships — like I was trying to avoid memories of the whole ordeal. There are definitely traces of the two in some characters, but I honestly think Jane would be irredeemable as someone for readers to enjoy and her sister would be too complex for me to adequately put into words.

 

[ElectricBlue]

Many (possibly most, I'd have to do a count) of my characters are directly based on or strongly flavoured by women I've been with, flirted with, crushed on, worked with, or had brief encounters in the street, so in that sense, there are many real people who permeate my writing.

I've got one autobiographical story cycle here that covers off my loss of virginity, my greatest heartbreak (with redemption nine years later), the woman I really learned my sexuality with, and an emotionally intense ships in the night encounter. These are, in a way, my "primal women" who constantly appear in one way or another in my writing - emotionally intense, often fragile, sometimes broken, but always with a very strong sense of self.

Many of my repeated physical tropes come from this time in my life too - long hair, dark eyes, slim figures, small boobs - although one girl was curvier, while one was too thin and had hardly any breasts at all.

It's safe to say that most of the important women in my life influence my writing, since I'm still writing about them. Men, hardly at all.

 

[ScrappyPaperDoodler]

At first, I didn't even consider important men, however, there must be at least one. Right?

Something I'm trying to fix in my writing is the absence of even incidental male characters beyond the protagonist. In my upcoming work I think I've taken inspiration from 'types' and not individuals when it comes to men. I find myself taking inspiration from times in my life when I was doing a particular job or living in a particular place and had exposure to certain kinds of people who had common traits between them.

Early in my profession, I knew a lot of cops and bureaucrats in law enforcement. I think they're probably the first place I go because they inhabit a very distinct world and its easy to extrapolate from that.

 

[Comshaw]

One of the females that had a huge influence on my life and pops up all the time in my stories was the first one I had full-on, no holds barred, extend sex with. The funny thing is I never knew her name.

We met at a party I went to at my buddy's house. There were maybe 50 young people there, in a living room that should have only held 20 comfortably. I saw her sitting in a corner alone as the people and party swirled around her. I thought I knew how she felt because I too was sitting in another corner in much the same way.

She wasn't all that pretty. She was thicker than what would be considered attractive and she had a scar on her upper lip from the edge of her right nostril to the middle of the left side that formed a cleft in her lip at that point.

Maybe it was her isolation (and mine) in the midst of those revelers, but I screwed up my courage and went over to talk to her. She was startled when I sat down next to her and said hi. She was shy at first, but after a few minutes, we fell into a conversation. It was pretty loud where we were, so I asked if she'd like to go someplace quieter. She gave me a look that was at first startled then pensive as she nodded. I caught my buddy's eye and pointed up at the second floor indicating I wanted to use one of his upstairs bedrooms. He grinned and nodded back. Being a horny young man I was hoping that something other than conversation would happen when we got to the bedroom, but being inexperienced and somewhat shy, I wasn't going to try to force it.

When we got to the room we sat on the edge of the bed. Without a word she took my hand and put it on her breast, then looked at me. I'd had sex once before this but it was a wham bam and done thing. I leaned over and kissed her. As I did she was unbuttoning my shirt. It took us about a minute and a half to get our clothes off. I put my hand on her thigh and felt her spread her legs. When I touched her pussy I found she was literally dripping wet. In all the years since I have been with only one other woman that got as wet.

I won't go into detail about the next 5 or 6 hours. Suffice it to say we had sex in almost every position, with a short rest between bouts. Sometime in the early morning hours we got to the point that both of us were exhausted. We got dressed and I walked with her to the front door. Everyone was gone by that time except my buddy, who was passed out on the couch.

As she started to walk down the steps she turned, smiled and said, "Thank you."

I was too stunned to say anything. I felt guilty about her thankyou, for I should have been the one thanking her. In those few hours she taught me what sex should be. She taught me that two imperfect people can find and have a perfect moment in time together.

As I said, I never got her name, but I will remember her for that night and the lesson she taught me, even though she didn't know she did. I try to instill that in my characters and stories, imperfect people finding a perfect moment (or more) together.

Comshaw

 

[LAHomedog]

My protagonist is usually some version of me, or a movie star's persona that I am modelling, but mostly me.

My women are basically modeled on one of four women:

1. My wife shows up in various versions all over especially in descriptions.

2. My high school/college girlfriend who took my cherry, I lived with her for four years and she is the "spinner" who shows up in my stories a lot.

3. My grad school girlfriend who was also a redheaded spinner. All we did for three years was fight and fuck. That was pretty much the relationship. We both made our bloods boil and had super hot sex, but she was a fiery Italian and we fought about everything. Eventually it became too exhausting to stay in the relationship. She's the model for one of my longer, multi-part stories.

4. My girlfriend/fiance in my late 20s, early 30s. She is the rich redhead who shows up a bunch.

I modeled the woman in "Clambake" on a friend of mine's life story.

That's about it. Usually I follow the old chestnut: "Write what you know."

 

[lovecraft68]

Okay, I also saw impotant people and clicked expecting it to be about the LW readers.

The people who have influenced me enough to put them in stories are unfortunately not for fun erotic reasons. Sure, I've had a former lover-or occasionally a little bit of my wife- in a smut story, but its a loose representation.

But Megan in Siblings with Benefits is based on an aunt(but only 5 years older than me) who was a beautiful girl, talented artist, and sweet soul...who fell into the hell of addiction, brutalized and humiliated herself in every way for several years including being gang raped when she was hooking, beaten several times by other addicts for her stash and died at 76lbs being fed through a tube and I saw her just before she passed. My mother did not want me to, my father knew I was close to her, but also wanted me to see the ultimate lesson of a path a lot of kids in my neighborhood were heading for.

In SIB a lot of those experiences happen to the MC, the difference is in the end she overcame her addiction and went on to live a happy healthy life and a career as an artists, the ending I wish my aunt had enjoyed.

Other characters include a POS rapist D-bag who gets his in one of my horror novels and and a few others along those lines.

I guess all of them were catharsis, some for grief, some for frustration, some for rage.

Sadly, none for fun.