So here’s a question that came up (ha!) while Candy and I were discussing Harlequins with boss/employee relationships. One of my guilty-pleasure stories is a Jude Deveraux wherein the CEO tricks a woman from the typing pool into spending the weekend with him at a friend’s Christmas wedding (why? Because she could tell him apart from his twin brother, duh!).
At one point, they have sex without protection, and she’s wigging out, while he’s totally calm about it. Turns out, of course, he’s never gone without a condom when gettin’ it on, which is a sign that she is The One. One ride on the bareback pony and you’re practically married? Oh. Come. On.
The whole “twin without a condom” true love scenario is just peculiar -almost as peculiar as that one Linda Howard where he rolled on the condom about an hour before they got it on, and just wore it under his pants. It wasn’t hot, it was creepy!
Condom-as-luuuurve-device? Ugh. It’s so not sexy. I mean, there’s no way to make a condom sexy! It’s an obligatory element but it’s not sexy or fun. I mean, it’s a rubber sheath that smacks you with reality. Putting it on with your teeth is interesting, and from what I’ve read there’s lots that can be done with it, some lube, and a hot washcloth, but still, condoms are not romantic.
Then I thought, “Hm! I should ask the Bitchery, for surely they know.” So I ask: can a condom in a sex scene be sexy? Can it be introduced in a manner that carries all the appropriate weight of its use, indicating that the characters aren’t complete idiots about STDs, but also not halt the hot n’heavy chemistry in its tracks? Got any examples of “Hot Hot Condom, Baby, Yeah?”
Well, one hour after your post I see no comments.
Which tells me that the collective Bitchery is left scratching its heads thinking, “Eh. Condoms as sexxy, sexy parts of the romance scene.”
Working…Working…
I think they’re a sexy and necessary part of the contemporary romance scene. But then, I’m the mom who insisted her boys take rubbers with them on their teen group summer trips “Just in case. Better you should have it and not need it, than need it and not have it.”
The most recent SEP, Match Me If You Can has the H&H use condoms:
>>When he reached her side, he held up a trio of condoms and said softly, “Consider these a token of my affection.”
I thought that was sweet.
And I remember a few Jayne Anne Krentz novels where she worked condoms into the scene without it being intrusive.
At the same time, one of my favorite historical romances is Playing the Jack by Mary Brown, where a big part of the plot is how the hero isn’t sexually promiscuous because his wife has syphillis, picked up from a lover, and he knows just how dangerous indiscriminate screwing can be in the age before antibiotics.
Condoms? I’m going to have to say yes, with certain Authors they can appear sexy. Put i also think the Reader has to feel comfortable with condoms. If the reader has an issue with condoms, even if the scene is well written the mention of condoms is going to repress the sexy-ness of said scene.
Condoms in historicals(they’re there i didn’t imagine them.)
I’m left reading distractedly through the thrashing of heads and the pistoning of hips, wondering ‘what the hell is he using’ and ‘If she paniced when he took his member out why on earth didn’t she run screaming from the room when he put that thing on?’
MM
My favorite condom scene ever was in the Fabio-written (I HAD to read it. It was going to be a glorious trainwreck – and it was!) romance novel from a million years ago. It’s set in like, the 1700’s, I think, and yet, he still has a condom. And he produces it, and goes into a very long speech about how he respects himself and his body, and he also respects her. And I read that all in a Fabio voice, and it just killed me, because it was so retarded.
But condoms in sex scenes – they’re not particularly sexy, but I like when they’re just worked smoothly into the action with little or no comment. Otherwise, it is distracting, because you can tell the writer is struggling with figuring out how to talk about it.
First of all I have to admit to little experience with them; I’ve been in a monogamous relationship for 28 years, and we didn’t need them. But I have frequently found the introduction of condoms in a sex scene distracting, often because the writer seems to feel obligated to promote safe sex, or that’s the way it comes across at times.
Yeah, condoms in romance.. not so much. In fact, birth control discussion in romance just bugs in general. I don’t want to read about teas, sponges, sheepskins, or the rhythm method unless it’s integral to the plot in some way.
Okay, what *can* you do with a condom, lube, and a hot washcloth?
And why does it sound like the beginning of a joke?
If it’s not a joke, you’ve got to make one up.
I *handily* avoided condoms in my first two contemps by making the heroes vampires who can’t get her pregnant or get human diseases. Thank you. Thank you very much.
The one I’m working on now is supposed to be funny. I just try to keep it in the same tone as the rest of the book. Like the heroine shouting, “Put the condom on, NOW!” when she’s ordering him to get to it or she’s gonna blow. Or the hero comes from the bathroom and throws a handful of foil packs in the general direction of the nightstand.
And I confess to being a sucka for the “I’ve never forgotten to wear a condom before. EVAH! It must be lurve.”
There was a small moment in Key of Light by NR, during the first sex scene with the love interests. All breathless and panting, he tears away from her “Pants….pockets…condoms.” She smiles and says, “Nightstand…drawer…condoms.” Then she puts it on “slowly” for him, naturally driving him more crazy. I thought it was sweet.
I count myself lucky not to have to mess (literally or figuratively) with condoms any more, but certainly did in my deep, dark past. I found that they could be used without interfering with the moment, but I have a hard time thinking of them (or anything about them) as sexy in and of themselves.
To me, whether or not they need to be included in sex scenes depends on how detailed the scene is and what the characters are about. If I’m getting a blow-by-blow (heh heh heh blow heh heh) description of the action and I’m supposed to find both characters sympathetic and all that, then yeah—leaving *out* the condom becomes distracting to me. If the action is less detailed, or the fact that the sex is unprotected is important, or I’m supposed to think these two people are idiots, then I’m happy not to read about it.
But please, always leave out the stuff about the teeth. Some details are better left to the imagination.
I find it sexier if the woman is the one who puts the condom on the man. That keeps the hero and heroine focused on each other, I think. If he goes off to the side and puts it on, the feeling of closeness can be broken.
I’m really turned off by contemporary novels where people who barely know each other hop into bed without protection. At best, they both come off looking like idiots.
When he reached her side, he held up a trio of condoms and said softly, “Consider these a token of my affection.â€
I love this too. Very, very nice. I also love the “Condoms. . . nightstand. . . drawer” Certainly conveys the urgency and the relationship.
“Put the condom on, NOW!†I swear this is not as scary as it sounds.
I confess—I’m nearly 49 years young and I have never used one. In my wild youth no one had even heard of aides, every college girl I knew was on the pill, then, poof,I was married.
Also, I have a latex allergy. The very idea makes me squirm. And not in a good way!
Nothing sexy about them.
Going by the scenes I’ve read, the authors find them about as sexy as I do. I find the insertion (pun totally intended) of the condom as distracting in the written word as it is in real life. Plus, a lot of times it totally comes off as a social commentary/stricture. Something that has about as much place in a love scene as a sex outside of marriage homily.
X
I’m not quite sure. I’m just glad I don’t deal with them anymore. Ah…the wonders of a monogamous relationship and birth control. Though we did have to deal with them a couple months ago when I switch BCs.
Hmmm…you know, trying to see how much of a large box of condoms you can use up in a week can be kinda sexy. It was a fun week. *g*
Necessary yes, sexy no. But when there isn’t one in contemporary romancelandia, I find myself wondering where it is and whether or not the clap would be worth it.
I don’t necessarily think they are sexy, though there are times when they are worked into the narrative skilfully enough that it seems like a logical part of the “action.” However, if I am reading a contemporary romance, and there isn’t any mention of birth control or protection against STDs, that slows me down too. I end up being distracted and thinking things like “Well, I hope he doesn’t give you CHLAMYDIA, stupid woman!” Which is also very not sexxy.
Well, see. I knew you all were thinking…..
I find the “Consider these a Token of my Affection” a little smarmy, personally. But that’s why we all have different opinions. On the other hand, I really like the “pants…pocket..condom” scene.
Any others?
A lot of authors are ‘required’ to include a mention of condoms in sex scenes. Okay, it’s not like a rule, or anything, but most romance editors will ask – What about protection? It’s as though not mentioning it bugs people more than mentioning it. Is it romantic – hell no. Is it a reality of today? For sure. So if it’s not there, the reader says, “These peole are too stupid to live.”
Seems to me, most authors make a one sentence mention of it and move on.
And I wanna know about the hot washcloth, etc.
Stef, who hasn’t even seen a condom in a bazillion years – dh got the snip job.
TMI?
I just finished reading Nerd in Shining Armor by Vicki Lewis Thompson (cute book) which used condoms to a fairly sexy advantage. The hero and the heroine are trapped on a desert island, and they only have six condoms, so each condom becomes a turn on to them because it represents a future sexual encounter.
Not. Sexy.
Also, THANK GOD!! Someone else who got the creeps from that guy with the half chubby putting a condom on before the woman even gets to the house. Nothing would make me hotter than tearing my hero’s pants off only to discover I was a sure bet! Ugh.
In the TMI category I’ve only had to deal with condoms for about two weeks. (met my man and bloody well married him) Let’s just say there was no sex for two weeks. Nothing like trying to stuff ah, you know into a condom and finally grabbing that elastic ring in eagerness and accidently letting it snap back. That’s when we discovered that condoms came in sizes – ooops 😉 That puppy didn’t come out to play for weeks!
CindyS (okay, I am laughing myself silly now but back then, nightmare)
Oh and if there is no mention of a condom nowadays I start to wonder about disease and of course, the obligatory accidently pregnancy.
I didn’t think it was sexy either, when I used to read books back in my twenties. But now? A real man who takes care of the protection, insists on it, and doesn’t whine about how it feels? Now THAT is sexy! Not having STD’s is hot.
And as much as condoms might add TMI to the book, I stutter over a non-condom encounter. I mean, has this guy been sticking it in everyone w/o protection? Ew. True love and herpes last forever.
Lastly. . . Wait, let me get up on my big ol’ soapbox. I used to read lots and lots of romances as a young girl. (Oh, Lord, if erotica had been around!) I get a little sick thinking about teenage girls reading about blazing hot sex between near-strangers and the couple uses nothing. I’d so much rather they read about hot, sexy guys who may be dangerous and dark, but aren’t stupid or selfish enough to ride bareback.
Someone else who got the creeps from that guy with the half chubby putting a condom on before the woman even gets to the house.
Now that is just fricking sick. Oh, wrong on so many levels. Gah.
Maybe its a sign of the times I grew up in, but in both truth and fiction I find it sexy when a guy is at ease with the condom – no cursing, no complaining. It shows that they know what they’re doing. And that they make a habit of safe sex – very appealing.
Those old school romances where the hero slutted around with everything in skirts before accidentally impregnating the alluringly virginal heroine because he got carried away in the heat of passion always squicked me out. Do the nasty with a promiscuous, protectionless he-ho? I’d sooner lick the counter in a public restroom.
Condoms aren’t always sexy, but the unprotected alternative is a definite turn off.
In Karen Robards’ One Summer. The first sexual encounter is bareback. But it the next he makes a point to wear a condom saying “What kind of bastard would I be to fuck you without a rubber? What kind of fool are you to let me?”
In the context of the scene it was sweet and showed urgency (the foul language).
Just in case I wasn’t clear in my earlier post, I refused to have anything but safe sex until we were both cleared health wise. Bob had been married for 12 years. They split and he met me. All the same, I demanded tests. Yep, I’m an 80’s girl who was terrified of AIDs so I hadn’t been with anyone until I met hubby.
Anyways, I do expect to see or hear the crinkle of the condom in a contemporary romance. I just don’t think condoms have a sexy image.
On the other hand, I do enjoy historicals where the hero knows and uses precautions to protect his woman. I actually wonder if women were told about the vinegar soaked sponge and such. I mean, with the suggestion that the ton were a non-monogomous lot you would think the woman had to have some knowledge to manage an affair.
CindyS
First off, forgive me if someone stepped up to the plate already with this comment. Thanks to NaNoWriMo, it’s 12:23 AM and here I am blogging. Sarah, I hope you’re pleased with yourself.
Anyway . . .
Condoms are kinda nice because they help a guy last longer. Squeeze a little lidocaine jelly into the sock and a guy could last all night. Try that one on the hubs. (I’m picturing soul-shearing screams: I! CAN’T! FEEL! MY! PENIS!))
Not that I would know anything about this.
As crass as it may sound ladies, when you’re talking about six or seven inches of rock-hard enthusiasm that’s all for you, who cares what it’s wearing?
ROTFL Doug. Lidocaine is helpful for many things…
Oh, I think if an author tries she can make a condom sexy and not dreary. I’ve put them in my contemporary romances ‘A Grand Passion’ and ‘The Argentine Lover’, and they fit right in (right over?) the story. And the part where she decides the heroine wants to put it on the hero’s cock is quite lacivious.
I even have a scene where the heroine goes to a store to buy one and gets the slang wrong (she’s American and tries to buy a rubber in England…and gets asked which size she wants…)
😉
Thanks for the morning laugh, Doug. At the drug abuse prevention program where I worked we also talked about safe sex, ‘cause substance abuse and unsafe sex go hand-in-hand (or pick a more appropriate analogy, if you prefer). One of our staff used to recommend putting a little Astroglide inside the condom to make it seem a bit more like riding bareback.
That life experience is why I get all squicky over contemporary romances where people don’t use condoms. You may know your partner (you think), but do you know everyone your partner’s screwed? Do they have a clean bill of health?
I’ll get off the soapbox now.
I absolutely cannot stand contemps without condoms because I like to read about responsible individuals and those types of people don’t risk their lives having unprotected sex. Yes, in the real world, this may not always happen, but in my fantasy romance land, the boy is always cloaked. If there is no condom reference, like an earlier poster, I am always re-reading to see if I missed it and then if I can’t find it, I am thinking during the entire five page sexual encounter – are they having sex without a condom?
I also like it when the woman has condoms because that says a lot about a woman to me.
However, take my op with a grain of salt because I thought Marc Chastain and his hour long chubby was one of the hottest scenes in romance land.
OH my GOD, Doug, I’m going to fall out of my chair laughing.
I agree with y’all, though, that I notice in a contemporary when the condom isn’t mentioned, and wonder what’s up with that. But at the same time, it is so hard to balance the very sexy teetering edge of control that makes for spicy sex scenes, with the presence of mind to think, “Oh! Where’s the condom?”
Being an erotic romance editor I always suggest that authors at least mention it once in contemporaries. As someone previously mentioned, werewolves, vampires, aliens, etc. can get away with unsafe sex because hey! they are paranormal…whooooo. (Although how funny would a scene in which the human heroine insists the vampire wear a condom because of all those “blood-borne disease issues” be?)
I just think (like several other people have already pointed out) that in this day and age, having two people engage in unprotected wild munkee sex is criminally insane. First off, from that point on I am convinced it will be a secret baby story. Secondly, I start thinking about how germy they all are.
I think this is especially true in contemporary erotic romance, as more often than not the hero and heroine are falling into the sack (or up against the wall, on the stairs, in the car, etc) within hours after meeting each other. Adding a bare-back ride to all of that? Retarded.
A quick way to get the issue out of the way is to mention it once. Either as something as minor as the crinkling of a foil wrapper or including it as a full on “let me use my mouth to roll the condom down your massive wang” scene—which? EW? Latex + Taste buds = dry heave.
After mentioning it once you need not bring it up ever again because the reader will assume that they are always using protection from that point on until you tell them otherwise. Another way to accomplish that is to have the first encounter be protected and then have both characters mention that they are clean and the woman inform the hero that she is on the pill, etc. IMO, that is a bit involved and I also tend to think “you just believe the guy when he says he’s clean after he just screwed you after 2 hours aquaintance?”
Anyway, that’s just my .02…
After mentioning it once you need not bring it up ever again because the reader will assume that they are always using protection from that point on until you tell them otherwise.
Is that true? I have only read a handful of erotica novels in recent months but I can’t remember if, once it was mentioned that the hero wore a condom, I assumed it was always so. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
(Darn it, I hit “Submit” too soon.)
As for the “believing the dude after you humped the wild stallion 2 hours after meeting him” part, are there requirements for the Harlequin Blaze lines wherein the hero and heroine have to get it on within a certain number of pages? If there is a requirement of moving-right-to-the-good-part, is there also a “make mention of protection” rule as well? Or is that an editorial decision made on a case-by-case basis?
I said in an RTB column that I would prefer my kid learn about sex from a romance novel than from, say NYPD Blue or some other tv show, and that is certainly true, but is it a reflection of our cultural discomfort with sex that making mention of protection is difficult and awkward? Or is it just reality intruding on the fantasy?
Aside: Whenever a man complains that he “can’t feel anything”, I’m usually thinking back to those days of dry humping when a boy could come right through his jeans. Ah, denim is so much more sensitive. Maybe condoms just need to be rougher and thicker! Or maybe the guy needs to stop thinking about the fricking rubber and get his head back in the game! *kof*
Or maybe, maybe, there was something magical about the ground of the track practice field behind the high school! Hurry! Let’s go!
I don’t have any negative associations with condoms. They are kind of a neutral entity for me. I don’t think I would be comfortable enough to enjoy sex without them (benefits of having been through High School/College Sex Ed in the late ‘80s, early ‘90s), but I don’t think of them in a sexy/nont-sexy way. There’re just there. Does it matter if the bed is sexy or not? No, it’s just there to be used and move the scene along.
I’m kind of weirded out when people say things like “condoms aren’t sexy” or “the sensation isn’t as good.” My brain, perhaps unfairly, files them in the same drawer as men fearing lowered libidos if they get a vasectemy instead of their wives gettig tubal ligation. The feminist/sexual activist in me starts suspecting traditional-male, phallo-centric hegemonic indoctrination.
As crass as it may sound ladies, when you’re talking about six or seven inches of rock-hard enthusiasm that’s all for you, who cares what it’s wearing?
I agree with Erin. Novels are fantasy. Condoms should be just another story element: if it works, use it. If it interferes with the story, don’t use it.
Caveat: I don’t read many contemporaries.
I love this discussion.
My current WIP has a condom issue (Something along the lines of, “You’re out? How can you be out? We need to go to the store.”)
But then I decided they could just try a little oral instead, which created a whole ‘nother sense of :gulp:.
If the heroine doesn’t want sex because she’s conscious about the health hazards, is she really going to put it in her MOUTH? (and vice versa?)
What’s the thought on that?