She asked me flat out in the middle of the bar, voice low and eyes locked on mine. "How the fuck do you write smut that actually gets people wet?"
I didn't smile. I didn't play coy. I just said, "Come upstairs and I'll show you. No notes. No safe words. Just do exactly what I tell you and you'll feel every line."
Her name was Lena. Thirty minutes later her back hit my apartment door and my hand was already under her skirt, fingers dragging through the slick mess between her legs. "First rule," I growled against her ear, "smut starts with the details. How soaked you already are. How your cunt clenches when I talk like this." Two fingers shoved inside her without warning. She gasped, hips jerking forward. I pumped them hard, thumb grinding her clit. "Write that. The wet sound. The way she tries to ride your hand like a desperate slut."
Lena moaned, thighs trembling. I yanked her panties down and off, stuffed them in her mouth. "Second rule. Use the dirty words. Cunt. Cock. Fuck. Don't hide behind 'member' or 'sex.' Say what you want." I spun her around, bent her over the kitchen counter, and kicked her feet apart. My belt hit the floor. I freed my cock, dragged the head through her folds, then slammed in to the hilt in one thrust. She screamed around the fabric in her mouth.
"Feel that stretch?" I snarled, hips snapping. "That's what you put on the page. The burn. The way her walls grip every inch like she never wants it to leave." I fucked her rough, one hand fisted in her hair, the other reaching around to slap her clit. Each smack made her jerk and drip down my balls. "Third rule. Build the rhythm. Start slow if you want, but once you're in, pound it. Don't let the reader breathe until they're as wrecked as she is."
I pulled out, flipped her onto her back on the counter, and shoved back inside. Her legs locked around me. I leaned down and bit her nipple through her shirt, then ripped the fabric open so I could suck hard. "Suck marks. Bite marks. Readers want to see the evidence." My thumb worked her clit in tight circles while I hammered into her. She came hard, cunt pulsing, juices squirting around my cock. I didn't stop. "Fourth rule. Make her come more than once. Smut that stops at one orgasm is lazy."
I dragged her off the counter, pushed her to her knees, and fed her my cock. "Taste yourself. Write the salt and the musk." She gagged when I hit the back of her throat, spit running down her chin, but she kept sucking like she needed it. I fucked her face until tears streaked her makeup, then pulled her up, bent her over the couch, and took her ass without lube except what her cunt had left on me. She howled. I held her down and drove in deep. "Fifth rule. Pain and pleasure mix. The burn in her ass. The way she still pushes back for more. That's the line that makes readers touch themselves."
I reached under and pinched her clit again. She came screaming, body shaking, ass clamping so tight I almost lost it. I pulled out, flipped her, and painted her tits and stomach with thick ropes of cum. "Sixth rule. End with the mess. Readers want to feel the stickiness, the proof it happened."
Lena lay there panting, covered in me, eyes glassy. I wiped two fingers through the cum on her skin and pushed them into her mouth. "Seventh rule. Make them crave the next page. Leave them aching and empty and already imagining round two."
She swallowed, then whispered around my fingers, "Teach me again."
I grinned, already getting hard. "Good. Because we just started the advanced lesson."
