Let’s face it. During a sex scene, there is only one word that does this part of the male physiology sexy, masculine justice and that is cock.
Needless to say dick, wang, schlong, dong, willy, John Thomas, trouser snake or any other cutesy or derogatory euphemisms are out. More than a whiff of the playground there – deeply unsexy. Penis is best avoided, too. It is the accurate term, sure, but somehow it’s a bit too clinical and not dirty in the least (see Anything Found in an Anatomy Textbook). I mean, what’s sexier: “I want to watch you suck my penis,” or “I want to watch you suck my cock”? See what I mean? No contest.
Breaking it down into its component parts is fine: head, shaft, tip, base. So far, so sexy. Package is also acceptable, but only when describing an as yet unrevealed organ. Packages need to be wrapped, people. Erection is okay, when used sparingly, as are length and rod, but tread carefully here. No love-rods, please!
Netherlands, fine. Netherworld, great. Nether-hole, nether-region, nether-bush, nether-lips, steer clear. And please, no nether-beard. A beard on a woman, anywhere, is as sexy as Eddie Murphy in drag. As for the other nethers, I picture some a bare-chested Conan the Barbarian type grasping his wench and whispering, “I shall part your nether-lips and enter you with my love-trident.” A little too high on the cheese factor for me.
As Cassanova said, “a man who makes known his love by words is a fool ”. Sure, he was talking about emotion, but I think it applies to sex euphemisms, too. Sex is sexy. Love? Not so much. Lose the love-hole, love-rod, love-muscle, and for the love of Pete, the love-button and love-juices. I recently read the first page of an erotic romance novel in which the heroine’s love-juices were flowing down her thighs as a result of her lover’s attentions. First of all, I can’t see anything sexy about something that sounds like a medical condition for which the heroine would need an adult diaper. And then, love-juices? Ew. Just ew.
Any Word Found in An Anatomy Textbook:
I can understand the occasional use of the word labia. I mean, it can get confusing using lips. “His penis is where now? Wasn’t he thrusting and grunting a second ago? Oh. Those lips.” But we don’t need to bring in labia minorus and majoris, vulva, scrotum, testicles, cervix and their other Latinate friends, do we? I mean, is this grade seven health class? I can almost hear Ms. Belanger droning on as she labels the transparency on the overhead projector with one of those squeaky pens. “The engorged penis enters the vaginal canal where it releases the sperm.” Not sexy.
Now, much as I am not a fan of this word, I may have used it myself once or twice because, I mean, what else do you call the clit? You can’t break it down into its component parts like you would with the penis or breasts because it doesn’t have any. Clitoris is straying into Anatomy Textbook territory, and you know how I feel about love-button. Ditto nodule, lump, stump, bud or, God forbid, tiny penis. But from here on out, I’m foreswearing the nub and sticking with the clit.
Dishonorable Mention: Throb:
There’s nothing particularly unsexy about the word throb, itself. In fact, used in the right way with the right body part, it can be damn sexy. But in all my sexually-active years, I have never once seen, felt, or otherwise witnessed a throbbing penis. Maybe I’m doing something wrong.
Don’t Hate on Me Disclaimer:
Of course all this is just my humble opinion, and as we all know, one woman’s rock hard cock is another woman’s throbbing engorged phallus, so if dripping love-juices get yours flowing, by all means, write on.
Whether you’re a reader or writer, I’d love to know what you think. What are your top sex-word turn-offs?