By JetBoy
My partners and I have established Juicy Secrets as a source of… oh, let’s just call it “quality lesbian stories that we enjoy,” so perhaps it’s a worthwhile idea to discuss what makes for a good piece of erotic fiction in the first place.
We are all unique creatures when it comes to matters of arousal; what floats my boat might leave yours stuck on a reef. Luckily, it turned out that Cheryl, Naughty Mommy, and I have very similar tastes in erotica which is what made it possible for us to join hands ‘neath the banner of this site. We share a serious appreciation of lesbian sex tales that involve underage girls, particularly those where the plot is further complicated by incest.
Of course, you surely know that much already if you’ve read more than half a dozen of our stories. But we share another affinity, and that’s for genuine warmth and affection along with the steamy sex. The word ‘love’ will rear its head quite often in what we write, and for good reason: it’s the spice that adds true savor to the erotic feast. Once in a while we may set romance aside for a bout of frenzied, sweaty woman/girl fucking, but in the end we always return to love. It’s the essence of why we write; why we feel the need to paint with words.
Another very different theme that turns up regularly in our stories is that of emotional struggle, of grappling with urges and desires that society deems to be immoral, even monstrous. Given our chosen subject matter, this should come as no surprise. When a mother feels a strong sexual pull toward her daughter, a young girl suddenly longs to kiss an older sister, or a grown woman dreams of undressing the little girl next door… these feelings can produce the kind of internal conflict that makes a sex story genuinely thrilling.
It should go without saying that in order to qualify as a great piece of erotica, a story must be readable. It matters not how intensely your plot sizzles with sex and sin — if the prose itself is chock-full of spelling blunders, clunkily formatted, or with its punctuation chaotic, the reader will be distracted again and again, if not struggling through the text like a dog eating taffy. And let’s be honest: the very last thing a masturbating reader needs is distraction.
One could expand on this topic at far greater length, the subject in question being a fertile one, but I’ll spare your eyes and my battered keyboard for the moment. Instead, I’ll pass the talking stick to you good people out there. What, in your mind, makes great erotic fiction great?