Have you ever been caught staring at your husband or boyfriend…or the neighbor guy jogging down the street or the trainer at the gym or the CEO type who’s catching a quick lunch or blue-collar guy who forgot to swipe the grease off his jaw or…? You get the point, right? You realize you were in a reverie, admiring his physique or swagger or smile or whatever. The man might not be supermodel gorgeous but he has that certain something that caught your eye…and your breath. And you had to revel in his features for just a bit. Maybe even take a mental picture. And, of course, wipe the drool from your mouth. You realize staring at this man is like being captivated by a work of art.
One of the reasons I love writing erotic romance is because I get to describe the male physique in great detail. The lines, the dips, the valleys, the shadows…all the sinewy goodness and hard muscles. The possessive look in his eyes as he watches my heroine from across the room. The flex of his jaw as he shows his irritation or anger. I get to think about what I find attractive—possibly do a little research as a reminder—and then convey the particulars to the reader.
My hero is, of course, always a hot piece of work. His looks and personality differ from story to story, but he always, always magnetizes my heroine—and my imagination. There’s an immediate attraction, very similar to what I explained above. She might not be sure what it is about him that has her stuttering her words, but she knows she’s in trouble as he catches her ogling him. He might walk across the room and ask for her name. Or he might simply stare back in interest. His eyes are alluring or cold or warm or seductive or callous. In any case they’re intriguing. She wants to know more about him. But the size of his physique is fairly intimidating. She notices how his clothes fit him, how the cotton stretches across his chest and bicep. How the denim or leather fits snug or loose to his thighs.
His hair is either long or cut short, in a ponytail, styled just-so, or a messy mop of hair. His smile might be a rarity or something she can count on when she’s feeling blue. Either way she loves the fullness of his lips. And she knows how they feel against her mouth—firm and powerful. Or maybe lingering and seductive, depending on the mood.
When she finally sees him unclothed, she’s taken aback yet again. Yes, he’s a work of art. His chest is either bare or lightly sprinkled with hair that arrows down to his erect cock. His nipples are dark. His muscles are bunched, like a predator ready to attack. Or perhaps he’s relaxed and confident she’ll make the first move.
She has the urge to explore all the dips and valleys. She wants to run her fingers over his rigid muscles, feel the power beneath her fingertips. Her gaze slowly sweeps down his body. So many curves and angles, each leading to a new and wonderful place.
She watches him closely, not sure what part of him she loves the most. The wicked glint in his eye. His stubbly or clean-shaven cheeks. The set angle of his jaw. His bottom lip as he bites it. The width of his shoulders and back. His muscled chest as he takes in even breaths. His powerful arms. Masculine hands. Long fingers. The shadowed lines running along his abdomen. The dip in his navel. The corded muscles that arrow down his pelvis. His cock, standing erect, responding to her. His rounded ass. The circumference of his thighs…his calves, his everything.
Sigh. It never gets old describing the male physique…or getting caught basking in all its glory.
Readers, what is your favorite part of the male physique? Where do you like authors to spend extra time when it comes to description? I sometimes get caught staring at my husband’s profile, his warm brown eyes or kind smile. Where have you been caught staring?