So, I've never written fade to black sex. Is there a way to end a sex scene (fade out) without writing something like "fade out" and instead putting in subtle details that allude to the characters beginning to have sex if that makes any sense? I thought I saw somewhere about fade to black sex tips, but I'm not really finding anything useful. If a guide could be created on this for those trying out different sex scenarios and details (i.e. subtle hints, explicit details, detailed), so on and so forth, that would be cool! :)
A lot of movies do it, so if you can imagine something like that. The characters kiss, touch and undress each other, then they fall onto a bed. The next scene is set afterwards, in the morning, or when they're still in the bed, but naked under the covers. It's just one example. There's no need to write fade to black. It's more like getting close enough to the sex that it implies it started, then skipping ahead.
I understand there's no need to write fade to black, but for this particular roleplay, it's a vital thing in moving the story along. Thank you for the advice! :)
If I want to keep things PG-13, which is often the case in the forums I frequent because of the rules they have against explicit scenes, then I will usually FTB. Let things get to a certain point (usually falling onto the bed or going to the bedroom) and then cut or fade to the next scene, while making things in the previous scene pretty clear that they're going to boink.
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
Generally, when I write a scene including FTB, I look at it like you might a scene in a movie. You might see things leading up to it, but not the act itself and then the scene cuts away to folks in bed chatting/sleeping, or making breakfast, whatever... It's giving enough context clues beforehand that folks won't just assume the played a game of Go Fish, then went their separate ways. Usually, I place the FTB moment after a kiss or some sort of comment by the character alluding to romance - you can use clever phrasing, too, to avoid writing actual details/smut, but still making it clear the deed was done. The words "afterwards" or "later" come in handy, too,l or you can just get right to the heart of the matter and say what happened, non-graphically XD.
For instance - Some (perfectly safe for work) examples from Books/RPs I've written or been a part of in the past:
This one is more direct - using the phrase "made love" to indicate what occurred... without actually SHOWING any of what occurred. The reader gets it, still, but there's no actually action beyond kissing.
Her lips traced along his jaw, voice barely a whisper pausing by his ear... "John..." She murmured, "Just so you know..." Another kiss by his temple, "I'm definitely trying to seduce you now."
To the bottom most levels of hell with work ethics, protocol, procedure and restraint. He could barely remember the last time he'd been with a woman, let alone the last time he'd wanted to be with such fervor. It was electric and searing and maddening and wonderful.
John pulled his jacket away from Anabel's shoulders, throwing it haphazardly behind him, sparing only the barest unconscious thought that it should have at least been draped over a chair or something. To hell with order, as well.
He slid an arm around her waist, crushing them together as she straightened against him. This was wrong... all of it was so wrong. Her mouth against his neck, her hands trailing over his chest, his own sliding under the hem of her sweater and tugging it up. And for once in his life, he simply didn't give a damn.
John grinned hungrily against Anabel's cheek, chuckling softly at her words. "Just so you know... I'm definitely letting it work."
That night, he made love to her with a gentle passion, and held her tightly to him after, absently stroking her hair. It was as if years of tension and stress and aggravation had dropped away from him. He wasn't sure when he'd felt so content before. The silence stretched out, easy and comfortable, but was broken by John some many minutes later.
This is from a novel I wrote for NaNo last year - the full piece is longer, but it never goes past vague, foggy details that, while they can't exactly be misconstrued, stay far from 'smut'.
I arch against his hands as they glide to grasp my waist, yank me against him, possessively, and there in the darkness, our heartbeats the rhythm, we are woven together and as we move and breath in unity all else ceases to exist.
Afterwards, he holds me, and I let him, and for the first time in weeks, I sleep, without the taint of painful memories or dreams.
This one was a collaborative effort, where there's build up with a solid fade to black ending...
Allowing himself to be dragged, Gideon laughed, warm and bright, following the little red vixen to her door. He waited as patiently as he could for her to unlock it, but inside that patient dissipated as he kicked the door closed behind them and scooped her back up into his arms.
The room was dark, there was no time for reach for lights, and things were still stuffed in the suitcase, save for the clothes she had flown in wearing, which had been piled neatly on a lounge chair. There was no time to worry about lights, or unpacking, or dirty clothes left strewn about-- because she was quickly swept up into strong arms, her arms quickly tangling back around his neck as she pulled him back into a fervent and heated kiss.
It was a few steps to the bed and he gentle nudged her down as her knees hit the edge of the mattress. Come morning, he'd probably be on a plane back home, a disappointment, again... but for now, well... there was nothing wrong with enjoying the time he had in the good old Czech Republic.
"Now then... about that issue you were having with old Victoria...?" And with a smirk, he bent down to deliver another kiss.
Hm. What a man. She couldn't decide if the gentlemanly attitude had just been an act or had just been thrown out the window, but she really couldn't bother to concern herself with the thought. It had been a long time since she had thrown caution to the wind. Her entire life had been so planned, from what college she would go to, what career she'd step into, down to when she'd die, even, but this was fresh and fun and completely uninhibited. It was a breath of fresh air.
Her knees bumped against the bed and folded below her, causing her to spill back against the duvet. Her hair, once neatly tied back, exploded into a golden swirl behind her head. "Help a poor damsel in distress wouldn't you?" she breathlessly managed out between kisses.
Looking her over for a minute, he shook his head with a soft chuckle, fingers gentle raking through that golden river of hair splayed out across the mattress "...Well, can't say no to that, can I..."
His fingers found the zipper to that maddening dress and with a tug he released her from it, folding down to meet her lips. Maybe it was only one night, but it would certainly be a night worth remembering.
While she didn't say it outloud, she was pretty sure (her mind was a bit hazy on details) he had mentioned not being a fan of suits, so she was more than happy to take it upon herself to liberate him from them. As he found her zipper, allowing her to wiggle free of the skin tight number, her nimble fingers fumbled with the buttons of his suit coat and button-up, moving to shove them free.
After that, it was really just the little details... but while he might not have been the best mechanic in the world, he was nothing, if not thorough.
And this was essentially as vague as possible - but the implication is still present in the context.
Shifting, she looked up again, her eyes welling with tears, "But I would rather spend one more minute with you, than a hundred years alone. Hunter, I waited... I had to wait, because I love you. I always have. And I always will."
Her words echoed in his head and he stood for a moment, unmoving, as he tried gathering his thoughts. It was a lot to take in, if he was honest, but the more he thought about it, the less and less it shocked him. Looking down at her, her blue orbs brimming with tears, he found himself unable to speak.
Instead he leaned down, cupping her chin in his scarred hand, and kissed her.
A few hours later, Red sat on the sill of the large windows in the living room, Hunter's shirt draped loosely over her frame, her bare legs crossed, one over the other. The rain had stopped, and the sun, freed from heavy pregnant clouds, hung low in the early evening sky, the city cast in a pale yellow glow. She could hear the shower running in the next room over and smiled to herself, leaning her head back against the sill brace, letting her eyes fall closed.
Generally, when I write a scene including FTB, I look at it like you might a scene in a movie. You might see things leading up to it, but not the act itself and then the scene cuts away to folks in bed chatting/sleeping, or making breakfast, whatever... It's giving enough context clues beforehand that folks won't just assume the played a game of Go Fish, then went their separate ways. Usually, I place the FTB moment after a kiss or some sort of comment by the character alluding to romance - you can use clever phrasing, too, to avoid writing actual details/smut, but still making it clear the deed was done. The words "afterwards" or "later" come in handy, too,l or you can just get right to the heart of the matter and say what happened, non-graphically XD.
For instance - Some (perfectly safe for work) examples from Books/RPs I've written or been a part of in the past:
This one is more direct - using the phrase "made love" to indicate what occurred... without actually SHOWING any of what occurred. The reader gets it, still, but there's no actually action beyond kissing.
Her lips traced along his jaw, voice barely a whisper pausing by his ear... "John..." She murmured, "Just so you know..." Another kiss by his temple, "I'm definitely trying to seduce you now."
To the bottom most levels of hell with work ethics, protocol, procedure and restraint. He could barely remember the last time he'd been with a woman, let alone the last time he'd wanted to be with such fervor. It was electric and searing and maddening and wonderful.
John pulled his jacket away from Anabel's shoulders, throwing it haphazardly behind him, sparing only the barest unconscious thought that it should have at least been draped over a chair or something. To hell with order, as well.
He slid an arm around her waist, crushing them together as she straightened against him. This was wrong... all of it was so wrong. Her mouth against his neck, her hands trailing over his chest, his own sliding under the hem of her sweater and tugging it up. And for once in his life, he simply didn't give a damn.
John grinned hungrily against Anabel's cheek, chuckling softly at her words. "Just so you know... I'm definitely letting it work."
That night, he made love to her with a gentle passion, and held her tightly to him after, absently stroking her hair. It was as if years of tension and stress and aggravation had dropped away from him. He wasn't sure when he'd felt so content before. The silence stretched out, easy and comfortable, but was broken by John some many minutes later.
This is from a novel I wrote for NaNo last year - the full piece is longer, but it never goes past vague, foggy details that, while they can't exactly be misconstrued, stay far from 'smut'.
I arch against his hands as they glide to grasp my waist, yank me against him, possessively, and there in the darkness, our heartbeats the rhythm, we are woven together and as we move and breath in unity all else ceases to exist.
Afterwards, he holds me, and I let him, and for the first time in weeks, I sleep, without the taint of painful memories or dreams.
This one was a collaborative effort, where there's build up with a solid fade to black ending...
Allowing himself to be dragged, Gideon laughed, warm and bright, following the little red vixen to her door. He waited as patiently as he could for her to unlock it, but inside that patient dissipated as he kicked the door closed behind them and scooped her back up into his arms.
The room was dark, there was no time for reach for lights, and things were still stuffed in the suitcase, save for the clothes she had flown in wearing, which had been piled neatly on a lounge chair. There was no time to worry about lights, or unpacking, or dirty clothes left strewn about-- because she was quickly swept up into strong arms, her arms quickly tangling back around his neck as she pulled him back into a fervent and heated kiss.
It was a few steps to the bed and he gentle nudged her down as her knees hit the edge of the mattress. Come morning, he'd probably be on a plane back home, a disappointment, again... but for now, well... there was nothing wrong with enjoying the time he had in the good old Czech Republic.
"Now then... about that issue you were having with old Victoria...?" And with a smirk, he bent down to deliver another kiss.
Hm. What a man. She couldn't decide if the gentlemanly attitude had just been an act or had just been thrown out the window, but she really couldn't bother to concern herself with the thought. It had been a long time since she had thrown caution to the wind. Her entire life had been so planned, from what college she would go to, what career she'd step into, down to when she'd die, even, but this was fresh and fun and completely uninhibited. It was a breath of fresh air.
Her knees bumped against the bed and folded below her, causing her to spill back against the duvet. Her hair, once neatly tied back, exploded into a golden swirl behind her head. "Help a poor damsel in distress wouldn't you?" she breathlessly managed out between kisses.
Looking her over for a minute, he shook his head with a soft chuckle, fingers gentle raking through that golden river of hair splayed out across the mattress "...Well, can't say no to that, can I..."
His fingers found the zipper to that maddening dress and with a tug he released her from it, folding down to meet her lips. Maybe it was only one night, but it would certainly be a night worth remembering.
While she didn't say it outloud, she was pretty sure (her mind was a bit hazy on details) he had mentioned not being a fan of suits, so she was more than happy to take it upon herself to liberate him from them. As he found her zipper, allowing her to wiggle free of the skin tight number, her nimble fingers fumbled with the buttons of his suit coat and button-up, moving to shove them free.
After that, it was really just the little details... but while he might not have been the best mechanic in the world, he was nothing, if not thorough.
And this was essentially as vague as possible - but the implication is still present in the context.
Shifting, she looked up again, her eyes welling with tears, "But I would rather spend one more minute with you, than a hundred years alone. Hunter, I waited... I had to wait, because I love you. I always have. And I always will."
Her words echoed in his head and he stood for a moment, unmoving, as he tried gathering his thoughts. It was a lot to take in, if he was honest, but the more he thought about it, the less and less it shocked him. Looking down at her, her blue orbs brimming with tears, he found himself unable to speak.
Instead he leaned down, cupping her chin in his scarred hand, and kissed her.
A few hours later, Red sat on the sill of the large windows in the living room, Hunter's shirt draped loosely over her frame, her bare legs crossed, one over the other. The rain had stopped, and the sun, freed from heavy pregnant clouds, hung low in the early evening sky, the city cast in a pale yellow glow. She could hear the shower running in the next room over and smiled to herself, leaning her head back against the sill brace, letting her eyes fall closed.
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
