We Welcome Erotic Romance Author- Cynthia W. Gentry in our series: Is There A Difference Between Erotic Menage Romance Novels and Erotic Polyamory Romance Novels?
In my new erotic romance, Three Days, my heroine, Claire, is in love with two men: her boyfriend Trey, and Rich, a former male escort. I can’t tell you much more without giving away too much of the plot, but if you were to ask me whether I call my book a “polyamory romance” or a “ménage romance,” my answer would be…yes.
I prefer “ménage romance” for reasons I’ll explain in a moment. (In the case of Three Days, it’s a ménage romance with a little BDSM—okay, a lot of BDSM—thrown in.) By its very definition, a ménage à trois is polyamorous.
Not to get all English major-y on you, but take a closer look at the meaning of the two terms. The Oxford English Dictionary defines “polyamory” as:
“…having simultaneous close emotional relationships with two or more other individuals, viewed as an alternative to monogamy, esp. in regard to matters of sexual fidelity; the custom or practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the knowledge and consent of all partners concerned.”
Meanwhile, Merriam-Webster defines a ménage à trois as “an arrangement in which three people (such as a married couple and a lover of one member of the couple) have a sexual or romantic relationship especially while they are living together.” The term itself is French for “household of three.”
So, while a ménage à trois is a polyamorous relationship, not all polyamorous relationships are ménages à trois. When I was doing research for Three Days, one of the books that was most helpful was More Than Two: A Practical Guide for Ethical Polyamory by Franklin Veaux and Eve Rickert. Their book and website, MoreThanTwo.com, should be a required reference if you want to write ménage romance. I’m relying on them both heavily as I write the sequel to three days.
For me, “ménage romance” is the most accurate description of Three Days, because the story really is and will continue to be about three people. I could further describe it as a “MFM” story because Claire is sexually involved with both men, but the two men aren’t sexual with each other (Not yet, anyway.) In polyamory terms, this is called a “vee” and Claire is the “pivot.”
I try not to get too hung up on terminology. What interests me are the sexual and emotional dynamics between my three characters, and in particular, what Claire discovers about herself in relation to the two men, the challenges and joys they bring to one another’s lives. As a character says in one of my favorite short stories by Amy Bloom, “love is not a pie.” Love isn’t finite. There’s more than enough to go around.
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In my new erotic romance, Three Days, my heroine, Claire, is in love with two men: her boyfriend Trey, and Rich, a former male escort. I can’t tell you much more without giving away too much of the plot, but if you were to ask me whether I call my book a “polyamory romance” or a “ménage romance,” my answer would be…yes.
I prefer “ménage romance” for reasons I’ll explain in a moment. (In the case of Three Days, it’s a ménage romance with a little BDSM—okay, a lot of BDSM—thrown in.) By its very definition, a ménage à trois is polyamorous.
Not to get all English major-y on you, but take a closer look at the meaning of the two terms. The Oxford English Dictionary defines “polyamory” as:
“…having simultaneous close emotional relationships with two or more other individuals, viewed as an alternative to monogamy, esp. in regard to matters of sexual fidelity; the custom or practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the knowledge and consent of all partners concerned.”
Meanwhile, Merriam-Webster defines a ménage à trois as “an arrangement in which three people (such as a married couple and a lover of one member of the couple) have a sexual or romantic relationship especially while they are living together.” The term itself is French for “household of three.”
So, while a ménage à trois is a polyamorous relationship, not all polyamorous relationships are ménages à trois. When I was doing research for Three Days, one of the books that was most helpful was More Than Two: A Practical Guide for Ethical Polyamory by Franklin Veaux and Eve Rickert. Their book and website, MoreThanTwo.com, should be a required reference if you want to write ménage romance. I’m relying on them both heavily as I write the sequel to three days.
For me, “ménage romance” is the most accurate description of Three Days, because the story really is and will continue to be about three people. I could further describe it as a “MFM” story because Claire is sexually involved with both men, but the two men aren’t sexual with each other (Not yet, anyway.) In polyamory terms, this is called a “vee” and Claire is the “pivot.”
I try not to get too hung up on terminology. What interests me are the sexual and emotional dynamics between my three characters, and in particular, what Claire discovers about herself in relation to the two men, the challenges and joys they bring to one another’s lives. As a character says in one of my favorite short stories by Amy Bloom, “love is not a pie.” Love isn’t finite. There’s more than enough to go around.
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Three Days (Trois Jours)
By Cynthia W. Gentry
Blurb
Claire, 34, seems to have it all: a great job writing for a prominent San Francisco magazine and a hunky-yet-Harvard-smart boyfriend, Trey. But behind the scenes, Claire suffers from a bad case of writer’s block, and her relationship with Trey has become more that of a roommate than a lover.
On a trip to New York, Trey makes one of Claire’s wildest sexual fantasies—a threesome—come true with the help of the mysterious Rich Parker, a male escort. The connection between Claire and Rich is instant and electric.
Once she’s back home, however, Claire she can’t stop thinking about Rich, who has awakened her dormant libido—and her long-repressed desire to be sexually dominated. Unfortunately, Trey can’t stop thinking about the evening, either, and breaks up with Claire, though each loves the other deeply. When Rich shows up in San Francisco, Claire is drawn into a dangerous sensual journey that tests her limits and culminates over three erotic days. Will she have to choose between her love for Trey and her obsession with Rich, and make a decision that could tear her heart in two?
First Chapter Excerpt Available at: https://unboundbox.com/blogs/magazine/three-days
Excerpt
We’ve just sat down with our cappuccinos when I hear a man call Trey’s name.
When I look up, I almost drop my spoon, because approaching us is one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen. He’s got dark, almost black disheveled hair swept back from his forehead, and cheekbones that could cut ice. Sapphire-blue eyes sparkle beneath his black eyebrows. His strong profile could adorn an ancient Roman coin. My eyes rest—and get stuck on—his full mouth. And of course he has a cleft chin. Of course. He wears a hoodie, workout shirt, and sweats, but even the baggy fabric can’t hide what is clearly a slim but well-built body. He carries a gym bag.
“Hey, Rich,” Trey says. “Glad you could make it!”
Trey introduces us. I feel a twinge of adrenaline as Rich shakes my hand, his eyes boring into mine.
“I thought you might be interested in meeting Rich because he’s an investor in a bunch of start-ups,” Trey says quickly.
“An angel investor,” Rich interjects. “I like to stay anonymous.”
“He’s done really well,” Trey says quickly, almost too quickly. I scrutinize him, but his look is merely expectant, like he’s hoping I’ll like what he’s done. “I met him at one of my meetings today.”
“So I guess Trey has told you about the article idea I’m working on,” I say. “Right now the concept is pretty lame. And I’ve had a few margaritas, so my questions wouldn’t be very insightful.”
“No worries,” Rich says. “We don’t have to talk shop tonight.”
“Sit down,” Trey tells him. He insists on buying us all more coffee, leaving me alone, momentarily, with Rich.
I’m shy with him at first, as I usually am with extremely handsome men, because I don’t think they’ll want to talk to me. But then I start to relax. Guys with his looks aren’t usually so funny or so smart, but Rich quickly gets me laughing with his bone-dry sense of humor. Trey returns with our coffees and sits close to me on the couch, but he doesn’t say much. He just listens to our conversation with a goofy grin. We’re debating the latest Richard Linklater movie when Trey emits a loud, exaggerated yawn.
“Poor Trey, left out of the conversation,” I say. “What would you like to talk about?”
“I’m not really bored. Not that bored.”
“We’ll get you back to your computer soon.” I give him a playful punch on the arm.
“It’s nice to see a couple who’s so comfortable together,” Rich says.
Too comfortable, I think.
“And you seem pretty comfortable hanging out with guys,” he adds.
“I get more attention that way.”
“You don’t seem like you need a lot of attention,” he says. “You seem extremely self-sufficient, actually.”
I’m pleased but instead I make a face of displeasure. “Oh Rich, I thought you’d see through my facade. I need lots of attention. Lots. I’m insatiable, in fact.”
Our coffees are finished. But none of us moves. Then Trey makes his suggestion.
“Let’s go hang at our giant hotel room. Raid the minibar.”
I feel another shot of adrenaline, of pure fear, like I’m about to do something very bad. “Only if you boys behave yourselves.”
“Scout’s honor,” says Rich. “After all, I’m a source, remember?”
* * * *
I lead them in. Trey rolls his eyes toward the bedroom and grins. I feel my face getting warm as I reach past him to pull the door shut.
“The mini-bar is that way,” I tell them. I stick with tequila. Rich and Trey pour themselves scotch from tiny bottles. I try not to think about the bill. I’m suddenly very thirsty, and Rich goes to get ice. While he’s gone, Trey sits down on an armchair and stretches his legs out on the ottoman.
“Come here,” he says. I squeeze into the chair with him. He looks into my eyes. “It’s good to travel with you. Every time we do, I’m reminded of what a hottie you are. Don’t make that face. You are. I see how guys look at you.”
“Huh. I see more women looking at you.”
There’s a long pause. My mind is suddenly blank.
“Kiss me,” he says.
My heart begins pounding. This is ridiculous. I know this guy like the back of my hand. “No tongue. Rich will be back any second.”
“Sure. No tongue.”
I tilt my head up and let him kiss me. At first he keeps his lips closed. Then his tongue slips between my lips. The heady, peaty fragrance of scotch fills my mouth.
“You said no tongue,” I say, but I don’t pull my head away.
“I lied,” he answers, and keeps going. I’d forgotten what a good kisser he is. Then I hear the click of the lock and the door. Rich.
I pull away from Trey, embarrassed. “Sorry, Rich.” But Trey doesn’t let me go and Rich only smiles.
“Don’t worry about it. It looked like fun.” He pours me a glass of water, which he sets on the coffee table. He sits down on the ottoman, near our feet.
“It is fun,” Trey says. “She’s a good kisser.” He turns to me. “Rich broke up with his girlfriend recently.” If this is calculated to get my sympathy, it works.
“Oh God,” I say. “Then you don’t need to watch us kissing.” I try again to pull away, but Trey doesn’t break his grip.
“Yes, I do,” Rich says.
* * * *
At times like these, there comes a moment when we make decisions. To decide whether to stay with what is familiar and tell ourselves that we are being good, or to go with the unknown. And though I don’t consciously know it, it’s at this moment that I’ve chosen the latter.
“There’s only one problem,” I hear Rich say. Trey and I are kissing deeply now. He has pulled me closer to him. I’m letting him stroke my back, my ass. At Rich’s words, we stop and look at him.
“I’m sitting here thinking how much I’d like to be kissing those beautiful lips myself.” His words are catnip to me. I’m already wet between my legs, now I feel my pussy lips fill with warmth, soften and open. My heart thuds in my chest. Can’t they hear it? I pull away from Trey and sit at the edge of the chair.
This man is a source, the fast-receding professional part of my mind tells me. Or is he? There’s something going on that I don’t quite understand.
I look at Trey. I have a feeling he’s on his way to being drunk. And so was I, but now I feel stone-cold sober.
“Go for it,” he whispers, his voice husky. “Kiss him.”
I picture myself as supremely benevolent, the Queen of Kisses, bestowing them out of charity and goodwill. I take Rich’s face between my hands and lean forward. My lips meet his and I’ve made another decision.
I start to really kiss him, my tongue searching out his, but he says, “Wait. Slow down.”
He puts a hand on my cheek and kisses me gently with his lips closed, and then again. With each new kiss, he begins to slip his tongue a little further between my lips. We begin kissing deeply, his tongue playing with mine. Finally, I pull away.
“There,” I say. “How was that? Do you feel more included now?”
He smiles. “Trey is right. You are a good kisser. I’d like to kiss you again.”
“Don’t stop on my account,” Trey says. “Claire knows that I like to watch.”
I do? He does? I push the thought away. We shift our positions so that I’m sitting on the edge of the chair with my back toward him, his legs on either side of me. He puts his hands on my hips.
“One more,” I say to Rich, telling myself that that will be the end of it, but I know I’m wrong. As I kiss Rich, Trey leans forward and slides his hands under my shirt, playing with my breasts. I feel him nuzzle my neck, my ear. He unhooks my bra and gently rubs my nipples. Then he slides one hand down my stomach into my pants. I freeze.
“Are you okay, babe?” Trey whispers in my ear.
I stare into Rich’s eyes. They are warm and earnest.
For a split second, no one moves. Then I put my lips to Rich’s again. Trey’s hand continues its explorations down my pants, under the waistband of my underwear. But because of the jeans it can’t get much farther than that. I shift my hips almost involuntarily, trying to give him access. His other hand leaves my breast and unfastens the buttons of my jeans. He slides his hand back down and discovers the wetness between my legs. I hear his intake of breath and I moan as he caresses my clit. Meanwhile, Rich continues kissing me. My mind is so full of sensations that I can’t think.
Again, I pull away from Rich and lean back into Trey, whose hand is deep inside my wetness. Rich takes off my shoes. He reaches for my jeans.
“We should stop,” I say, but have no will to make that happen. They have to decide.
“Is that what you want?” Rich asks me. “To stop?”
“I don’t know.”
Oh, yes, I do.
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Buy Link-
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Cynthia W. Gentry Bio:
My most recent book is Three Days, an erotic romance published in France by Bragelonne/Milady as Trois Jours. You can read the first chapter of Three Days on Unbound's online magazine (unbound.nyc/blogs/magazine/three-days). I'm currently at work on the sequel.
I've written several nonfiction books on sex and relationships, including What Men Really Want in Bed: The Surprising Facts Men Wish Women Knew About Sex (Quiver) and its sequel What Women Really Want in Bed (Quiver). Both books have been translated into several languages.
I'm also the author of Secret Seductions: 62 Naughty Nights, Lusty Liaisons and Sexy Surprises (Quiver) and Mind-Blowing Orgasms Every Day: 365 Wild and Wicked Ways to Revitalize Your Sex Life (Quiver). Secret Seductions is also available as the Sexy Seductions mini book and as The Sexy Seductions Card Deck.
I was the co-author, with David Ramsdale, of Red Hot Tantra: Erotic Secrets of Red Tantra for Intimate, Soul-to-Soul Sex and Ecstatic, Enlightened Orgasms (Fair Winds Press), for which I wrote the erotica.
I've been interviewed by magazines like Glamour and Cosmopolitan for articles on sex and relationships. My fiction and journalism has appeared in Area i, The Montserrat Review and Reed Magazine, as well as magazines such as budget savvy. I've also covered film festivals for indiWIRE.com and have written for the Literary Arts section of SFStation.com.
I have a master's degree in journalism from the University of California at Berkeley, where I was the recipient of the Edna Kinard Prize, the Alfred & Ruth Thompson Perassolo Scholarship and a Regent's Fellowship. I graduated with departmental honors from Stanford University with a Bachelor of Arts degree in English.
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Author Website: www.cwgentry.com.
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