Tuesday, 7 May 2013
The Difficulties of Describing Rubber
The reason for my disarray: I’m currently writing a story about rubber and my vocabulary is so stretched thin that I’m frightened it might snap back in my face.
I've spent a lifetime mastering the art of describing flesh in all its wonderful forms. I even have words I use to describe the strange type of skin you only get deep in the crotch which isn't thigh yet isn't fully genital. Then there are all the shades of skin from the ‘alabaster’ and ‘milky’ to the ‘red’, ‘ruddy’, and ‘rubicund’. I can describe elbows in such erotic terms that cage fighting will start to make you drool.
Only now that my story involves rubber, I find that there aren't enough words in the English language to excite the average fetishist. I began trying to write erotic fiction and I ended up, late last night, sounding like I was writing about a car interior. I found my mind drifting and, went I looked up, I saw that I’d mentioned alloy hub-cabs. This just can’t go on.
Yet the problem isn't just associated with rubber. I've also had to tackle the even trickier subject of finding a way of describing a pair of buttocks wrapped in latex. Do you know how difficult it is to describe a pair of buttocks wrapped in latex? There exists nothing in nature or made by man that looks anything like a pair of buttocks wrapped in latex. There’s not a simile out there you can reach for that isn't going to be a stretch. And not a good stretch. Certainly, not the kind of good stretch you see when I slip into my latex dress and bend over...
‘She bent over, his eyes gazing up her long sinuous legs until they rested on the glorious sight of her rear, shining like Wittenham Clumps, a pair of hills in the Thames Valley, but wrapped by the French artist, Christo.’
I know. Terrible isn't it? But what’s a girl to do?
‘She bent over, her behind tight beneath her latex dress like a smurf suffocating beneath cellophane’?
Perhaps that’s better but it depends how you feel about the autoerotic asphyxia of small blue Swedish gnomes. Personally I’m not for it and I don’t think my readers would want it in my books. Which means that I’m still struggling to come up with a good line of filth.
‘She bent over, the mound of her rear shining like the front head rests in a Volkswagen Passat’?
‘She bent over, her sumptuous rear like two obese belly dancers in fat suits’?
‘She bent over, her stockinged legs merging at her tight latex dress like a pair of frogmen untangling a dolphin from a drift net.’
Actually, that last one isn't bad… It isn't bad at all! I just need to figure out a way of tastefully pulling those frogmen off the dolphin using just my hero’s teeth and I think I’ll be done.