Category Archives: Nudity

I just finished my first MMM Romance!

I’ve just finished a novel that explores some themes I’ve been toying with for a while now. I’m doing a final polish before sending it off for editing, and I’ll be working with the cover artist soon. Despite what the title might suggest, there is no BDSM in this novel. It’s a MMM romance, and it should be released this fall.

“The Rules” is about Hans Bauer, a college student in New Hampshire who accepts a job as a housekeeper for an older gay couple, Thomas and Boris. He soon learns that the reason they’ve hired someone with no experience is that professional agencies won’t work there. Boris is a writer who immigrated to this country from Russia, and suffers from depression and PTSD because of some of the things he endured in his native country.

He also refuses to wear clothes — ever.

While Hans is working alone in the house with Naked Boris all day, things start getting a little weird. When Boris gets flirtatious, Hans backs away, not wanting to come between him and his husband. So Boris calls Thomas at work and asks permission.

And at that moment, The Rules are born — rules about touching and kissing and pet names that the three men use to keep jealousies at bay, as they explore the possibilities in a new type of relationship….

 

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Filed under Christmas, College, Contemporary, Drama, gay, Gay Marriage, Jamie Fessenden, Nudity, Rape, Romance, Russian, Writing

Sex Positivity Blog Hop – My experience with slut-shaming

spbhbanner-3I’m posting today as part of the Sex Positivity Blog Hop created by Grace Duncan.  The idea behind it is for romance authors to share positive views about sex, as opposed to the negative views presented so often in the media and in our culture.  I’m a story-teller, so I prefer to discuss things like this as they relate to me personally, as part of the story of my life, rather than in the abstract.  And I’ll use kittens to illustrate my points, because… well, they’re cute.

To see the other stops on the blog hop, go here.

black catI’ve always had a very casual attitude toward sex—it’s fun and I enjoy it, but I’ve never connected it to love.  Love is how I feel about a very select few people in my life, including my husband, of course.  But sex?  I’ve had a lot of it.  Some of it was with friends, and some was with people I didn’t know.  I’ve tried nearly every position I can think of, and quite a few kinks.  Some of it was special, some of it was incredibly hot, some of it was awful.  But only when it was with someone I cared about deeply did it have any emotional power.

I’m not saying this is the way everybody should feel about sex, but it’s the way I’m wired.  Love is love, and sex is for fun.

It surprised me to learn, as I grew older, that some people found me disgusting because of this.  One of the most hurtful things that happened to me when I was dating was when I was on a second date with a man I was very attracted to.  We ended up back at my apartment, making out passionately on my bed.  I assumed this meant we would be having sex soon, so I joked, “I’ll warn you—I’m easy!”

386200_2673280425520_1061443511_32785704_1832786642_n.jpgHe jerked away and said in a disgusted voice, “I’m not!”  Then he left, and I never saw him again.  All calls to his number went unanswered.

I ran into more men like this over the years—men who initially found me attractive, but quickly dumped me when they found out I’d had a lot of sex in the past.  I was now “damaged goods.”  And because they saw me as worthless—certainly not as someone they could have a relationship with—to offer to have sex with them seemed to insult them.  “How dare you think I would stoop to having sex with someone like you?”

Once, when I went to look at an apartment, the landlord accosted me, pulling me into a dark room and yanking down my pants.  I didn’t want it—I was dating someone, at the time, and I found this man to be repulsive—so I struggled to get free of him, and ended up fleeing with one hand pulling my pants up as I ran.  I told my boyfriend about it that night, and he responded by sneering at me and saying, “That figures.  What did you do to encourage him?”

So, needless to say, by the time I met Erich, I was used to people thinking I was a “slut.”  It wasn’t so much that I thought badly of myself for my sexual history, but I was convinced I’d given up whatever chance I might have had for a permanent relationship.

kitten cuddleThank God for Erich.  Our first “date” was more of a geeky study group for two.  We were both interested in Old Norse, the language spoken by the Vikings, so we met at my apartment to go over some lessons.  When we got tired of that, we ended up making out.  I came onto him, and he didn’t play hard to get or act offended.  He acted as if he was lucky to have found me.  And I quickly realized I was lucky to have found him.

We’ve been together for thirteen years now.  We’ll be celebrating our fourth wedding anniversary this week, in fact.  During this time, Erich has always enjoyed hearing about the sexual antics I used to get up to in my youth.  He hadn’t been quite so adventuresome himself.  But whenever I mention how men used to make me feel there was something “tainted” about me for being so experienced, he pulls me into his arms and laughs.  “Then they missed out,” he tells me.  “I love hearing your stories.  I think they’re hot.”

So I may not be the type of guy every man wants to marry.  But that doesn’t matter anymore, because Erich wanted to marry me.

I wrote about some of this, fictionalized, in my novel Screwups.  What happened to Danny isn’t true—not for me, at least, though sadly it does happen to some high school students.  Some have committed suicide over it.  But his feelings of being sleazy and not good enough to be Jake’s boyfriend—of having screwed up his life—I understood all too well.  And many of the events that occur in the dorm really did happen to me, though of course I’ve inserted my fictional characters into them.  Eaton House did in fact have nude pizza parties, people chasing each other through the dorm naked, and residents posing nude in the lounge for art students.

One thing I left out of the novel was the time I streaked the dorm covered head to toe in nothing but marshmallow fluff.

Ah… good times….

To buy a copy of Screwups, look for it at Dreamspinner Press or Amazon.

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Filed under Bloghop, College, Contemporary, Jamie Fessenden, Life, Nudity, Sex, Sex Positivity

What’s up with all the nudity?

1486897_239607046199651_1288080316_nMost readers who pick up a M/M Romance novel aren’t terribly surprised to find out that the characters take their clothes off, at least for the sex scenes.  That’s pretty much expected. But a number of readers/reviewers have expressed surprise at just how much nudity my adult novels contain.

Tom and Kevin in Billy’s Bones are naked whenever they’re in the house alone, or outside in the yard.  There are so many people wandering around naked on the grounds of the Temple in Murderous Requiem that even I’ve lost track of how many.  And dorm life in Screwups appears to be one big, hedonistic romp, with people streaking, stripping, and partying without a stitch on. Do I really think that’s realistic?

Well, actually, yes.  I do.  All of these were loosely borrowed from real situations I’ve been in.

Like my favorite science fiction author, Robert A. Heinlein, I’m a nudist.  (Don’t worry—I won’t be posting pictures.)  How this happened, I’m not quite sure.  I was an extremely shy teenager who had difficulty looking people straight in the eye, never mind taking his clothes off in front of everyone.  But at some point in college that changed.

Body image was a big part of it.  I was skinny as a toothpick and I thought that made me unattractive.  Then one night, sleeping over at my boyfriend’s apartment, I decided to be bold when I went downstairs for a drink and just wear my underwear, even though his friends were watching TV in the living room.  I cut in front of them and they whistled at me.  “Stop making fun of me,” I said.  The response I got was a slightly lecherous, “Oh, we weren’t making fun of you.”

Wait… what?  Really?

Over the next few years, my shyness fell away.  I lived for a short time in an apartment with two other people, and we decided clothing would be optional.  Then I moved into a dorm which subjected me to co-ed bathrooms, where people of either gender might be stepping into or out of the shower when I walked in.  I was exposed to streaking, skinny dipping, nude snow angels, and posing nude in the lounge for people to sketch.

Ah… those were the days.

At one point, I was dared to strip naked in a hallway, cover my entire body with marshmallow fluff, and run through the dorm.  I don’t know how many people gathered for that event, but I estimate it was at least forty. So much for shyness.  Although I have to say this about it:  when you’re covered with marshmallow fluff, you kind of feel like you have clothes on.

Since then, I’ve been to nude beaches, nudist resorts, and clothing-optional pagan gatherings.  So, yeah.  Even though age and weight gain has taken its toll, I’m still pretty comfortable in my skin.  So does this mean I’m going to use my novels to push some kind of evil nudist agenda?

Well, not deliberately.  But you write what you know.  And all of my main characters are me, in some guise or other.  Tom in Billy’s Bones, Jeremy in Murderous Requiem, Danny in Screwups—they’re definitely me.  But so are Kevin, Bowyn, and Jake to a lesser extent.  What isn’t me is filled in from other people I’ve known.  I rarely write a character who isn’t based in some part on a real person.

There are characters in my stories, of course, who wouldn’t be caught dead naked.  Isaac in By That Sin Fell the Angels, Susan in Billy’s Bones, Paul in Screwups.  But those characters are probably the least like me.  Susan Cross is based on my mom.  My mom doesn’t run around naked.

At any rate, the best I can say is, if it seems weird to a reader that my main characters are completely at ease without their clothes on, that’s simply because it doesn’t seem weird to me.  Will I change it to make others happy?  Probably not.  But if I write a scene in which my main character goes to work naked and his corporate boss says, “Hey, Joe!  How’s it hanging?  Oh, never mind—I can see for myself,” I do hope my editors will point out that this probably wouldn’t happen in real life.

At least, not in New Hampshire.

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Filed under Jamie Fessenden, Life, Nudity, Writing