I’m a bookworm pure and simple. If I have a free minute you’ll probably catch me with my nose in a book. That said, I’m also a snob, so when Karla (Tokii Founder) asked me to read one of her Harlequin novels from the “Blaze” series, I was skeptical. For those who don’t know already, Blaze is the top level of sexiness, and here I was, reading away.
At the risk of sounding crude, I think it’s safe to assume these novels are generally written to perform much the same function for ladies as pornoflicks do for us fellas. The idea is that men respond to visual stimuli while more cerebral fare turns the crank of your average gal a little better.
So, I didn’t think it would be fair to look at Sex, Straight Up through the lens of my literary experience. Instead I want to put it toe to toe against one of my favorite “adult” movies, Debbie Does Dallas, and let the chips fall where they may.
Blaze vs Porn
A bartending widower who needs to learn how to open his heart again.
A cheerleading stripper who has no intention of closing her legs.
“I’m Sorry”, she said.
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“Good.” Her hands were at his fly. “Because now we need to talk about the pants.”
“Well professor, maybe I could make up the grade with some extra curricular activities?”
“Well, there’s no time like the present.”
Best Sex scene (as chosen by the writer)
The clumsy hulk and widower Daniel takes the inexperienced Catherine in his arms, as they undress, Daniel makes Catherine feel confident about her body, forgetting her inhibitions about the odd proportions of her body.
The cheerleaders and the offensive line throw a “bush” party that breaks out into an orgy faster than Michael Phelps can lap an above-ground pool.
So, I’m not going to pretend either of these qualify as high art, they’re both nonsense, but if we ever needed evidence that men and women on a whole approach sex differently, look no further. Blaze breaks into the sexy stuff, but the wind up is long and all full of “will they, won’t they” stuff.” Porn does a good job of cutting out the middle-man, but if we’re speaking plainly, it’s more skuzzy as a result.
They’re both just a good way to get the endorphins flowing, and they’re both just a strange substitute for a good romp between the sheets. As the fella once said, “Ain’t nothing like the real thing”.
JP is a writer in Toronto. He’s a husband, a father, and has a tremendous singing voice, just ask him!