My oh my. Let’s talk about American Horror Story: Hotel. Doesn’t this series just scream sex?

All of the hotel inhabitants emanate a type of sexual aura. Be it seductive, alluring, depraved, sadistic or desperate – it’s all there roaming the halls of Hotel Cortez.

The one that makes me flustered is the tantalising Tristan Duffy. He could slot right into a Bret Easton Ellis book with those good looks, coke habit and a massive dose of narcissism. Just the right blend of nihilism to make good girls everywhere  find themselves in compromising positions. I’d rather not analyse how unhealthy the attraction here could be. I am almost certain they have drawn some inspiration here from the wonderful Mr Ellis.

At university we studied the psychology of sex and horror. I can sum those lectures up for you – some things just go together. I am immensely enjoying this series and find myself right back to the engagement levels I experienced with season one and the infamous rubberman. The ability to be equally scared, intrigued and aroused is a strange viewing experience and one I choose not to question but just allow.  I was beginning to think I had become so desensitised to that which we call ‘disturbing’ . Just like Tristan, I was looking for my next ‘high’. I am happy to report that this season has certainly satisfied that need and raised the bar. I guess we have Mr March’s character to thank for that. Sex and slicing – there’s something to float around the head space. Also a gas mask will forever creep me out. Often borders on David Lynch like aspects for me.

If I can get a tad personal for a moment, my sex drive has been MIA for some time now. Rebuilding and regrouping from past relationships, busy with work and general life stresses hasn’t really created a space where it has been engaged.

That was until Tristan Duffy’s character was presented to me.

Good grief. My peaches and cream complexion turned crimson immediately. My blood was definitely moving.

Tristan the twisted. A male model and a big helping of assholeness. Millions of girls swooning world wide and aching to be used and abused by him. It’s a problem that this type of character can stir such reactions of desire within me. There is something so raw about his energy. A certain type of carnality and animal magnetism.

Sometimes words fail (like now) so I leave you with a tasty tease of the ever addictive Tristan.