I think all writers people watch. Where better to find new characters than in the people you pass in the street, or who sit at the next table in your favourite coffee shop, or stand too close to you on the tube?
But I have to admit, since I made the leap into writing erotica, my people watching has taken on more of a voyeuristic side.
Before, I’d wonder about these people’s lives: where they were going, what they did for a living, who was waiting for them when they get home.
Now, I wonder what they’ll get up to when they hit the sheets that night.
The woman with the dowdy grey suit and hair pulled back sipping espresso – what are the chances she’s wearing stockings and a corset under that? And who’s she going to share them with?
The blonde at the counter waiting for her latte reaching her hands up to pull her hair away from her face, tying it in a knot at the back of her neck – I wonder if she’d do that before leaning forward to take a man in her mouth.
The two men with the woman at the table in the back – which one of them is she with? Or is she with both? Are they negotiating it right now? A couple persuading a friend to play? Or three friends realising they need something more… And now, they’re leaving their coffee half drunk and walking out together. Where are they going? And what are they going to do when they get there?
So many possibilities… just waiting to become stories.
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