I’ve done a lot of thinking since I started writing erotica a few years ago. Why did I choose this sort of thing to write, what does it say about me etc. And it’s probably no surprise for me to realize that, among other things, I am a voyeur - sort of.
I mean that in the loosest possible sense. The word “voyeur” originally specifically meant getting “sexual gratification from observing unsuspecting individuals who are partly undressed, naked, or engaged in sexual acts”. (Merriam-Webster)
That’s not what I’m talking about.
But I have no boundaries when it comes to watching or listening to other people in public. Yeah, I try not to get caught, but if/when I do, I generally just give ‘em a nod and turn away. Unless it’s something particularly salacious, in which case the nod is replaced by a wink. Which might not matter to a blind horse but might make a difference to the hot young brunette that caught me listening to her dishing with her bestie.
I am a people watcher, and a people listener, and it drives my wife up the proverbial wall. I honestly can’t help it, but I’ll admit that I don’t try all that hard to avoid it either. Mrs. Pierce, on the other hand, spent many years waiting tables and bartending and taught herself to tune out those conversations.
So when we’re at a restaurant and the couple at the table next to us is quietly word-stabbing each other over his ex-girlfriend and whether he should still be in contact with her, I’m trying to catch every word and Mrs. P is intently... not.
I’ve been in IT my entire career, so I know how to multitask. I can still carry on a conversation with my lovely mate while absorbing the drama of the next table, but I’ll admit that she’s caught me more than once paying more attention to the drama next door than to her. Not good.
But I’ve gotten quite a few stories out of those covert observations. Last year we were driving through a parking lot in our college town, and I saw a gorgeous young woman gracefully raise her foot behind her and take off her high heeled sandal and wave it in her date’s face. And “Bear To The Rescue” was born.
An attractive couple (black male, white female) at a nearby table in an upscale restaurant in Charlotte became the genesis of “Road Stories: First Impression”. Thank you, mystery couple!
No one is safe around me. But rest assured that I’m only getting ideas, not just writing what I’m hearing or seeing. We all get inspired by something and sometimes for me it’s a fragment of a conversation or just watching people’s facial expressions from across a bar.
I thought about this last weekend when I did become a voyeur in the strictest sense of the word for a few minutes. We spent a long weekend in Asheville celebrating a birthday and staying in a very nice hotel, one that we’ve stayed at many times before.
But this particular room had a problem. While the walls are thick between rooms and we rarely hear anything from the next room, we realized Saturday night that we were hearing people in another room talking through the air vents. It was loud. Really loud.
Not that they were necessarily talking loudly or shouting or anything, but it was like it was amplified and coming through a loudspeaker. It wasn’t always easy to make out words, but there was clearly a man’s voice (at least one) and a woman’s voice and they talked ‘til midnight at least.
I generally sleep less than Mrs. Pierce, so I was awake and relaxing in bed Sunday morning, no doubt reading smutty stuff on my phone, when I heard the show from the other room begin again. Only this time it started with moans.
Those moans became more verbal and louder and then became a good five minutes of slorp smack Yes! slorp smack Uh! slorp smack Yes! Mrs. Pierce woke up during this, looked over at me, rolled her eyes and then went back to sleep.
I, on the other hand, quite enjoyed listening. This was not sleepy Sunday morning love-making – this was a ball-slapping, hard-driving fucking. Dude was a machine! They wound down to softer moans and then it was quiet.
And I was so happy for them! I really tried to analyze how it made me feel to listen to this unseen couple and yes, it turned me on (and no, I didn’t rub one out) and I had fun imagining what they might look like, but mostly I was just happy knowing that there was a couple nearby that was enjoying each other in the best way possible. The world needs more of that.
So I don’t care whether you call me a keen observer of people or a dirty old man, the bottom line is that I like people. I like seeing and hearing people being happy. I’m empathic. And as I’ve mentioned before, it sometimes limits my writing as I just want my characters to enjoy themselves without a lot of drama.
I’ll undoubtedly write a story inspired by this unseen couple (it’s what I do). And I may throw some drama their way (maybe he’s her brother-in-law or maybe there was a second male voice in the room last night that’s there to watch). So, thanks mystery couple! You were quite inspiring!
