WHY I READ EROTICA
Updated: Feb 13, 2019
Erotica Writing Series: Blog #1
I read lots of erotica. I have since my teenage years. And I love it (obviously)! But, why do I (and millions of others) still read it? I mean, there are LOTS of ways to stimulate yourself these days. So, why read erotica rather than watch porn, chaturbate, or sext?
Perhaps asking why we continue to read erotica seems like an odd question for many. In fact, it’s a bit odd to me considering how much I love books, erotica, and reading so many varying genres. But, I am asked this question periodically, enough for me to address it in a blog. And it seems like a perfect topic for a first post.
Part way through my last year of high school, I turned eighteen. That was around the time I really became interested in sex. I might even describe it as being obsessed. Like any other teenager, my body bloomed. My breasts swelled and nipples became so sensitive. I loved the wispy blonde hair on my muff. And anytime I was around a hot boy, things stirred in my gut… and lower.
The internet wasn’t a big thing yet and access to sexual stimulation was rather limited. My means of arousing myself was comprised of thinking about guys or girls that I knew and imagining myself in sexual situations with them. Very few of knew that they were material for getting myself off or that they showed up in my wet dreams. One of my high school teachers even made an appearance periodically!
In my mind, I could think about kissing and touching these people. I would visualize their naked body sprawled out in front of me and doing whatever I wanted. I touched myself imagining that it was their finger or a tongue, pleasing and probing me. I would ache, just sitting in class watching Luke, or Tracy, or Mr. Thompson.
Or, I could look at pictures in magazines. The models in the images were gorgeous. The guys had amazing abs, attractive faces, chiseled muscles, and, fuck, their cocks – perfection! I could literally drool thinking of their thick rods in front of my face. And then there were the girls with beautiful expressions, flawless figures, amazing asses, and delicate mounds. Those pictures were how I gained an incredible appreciation for the female form. I wanted, desired, and craved their soft touch.
My imagination has always been rather vivid, allowing me to easily place myself into a sexual situation. I was, essentially, making up stories to arouse myself. The more detailed I could create the scenarios, the greater the orgasm.
I didn’t have access to dirty movies (yes, it’s called porn, but I still love the term “dirty movies”). I was relegated to touching myself using just my imagination. I thought magazines were great because I could actually look at beautiful, naked people (remember, no internet) and imagine being with them.
I had actually found my first three magazines on the side of the road one evening walking home. I have no idea how they got there or why someone would toss them aside. No matter, it worked for me! I snuck them into the house and between my mattresses. That night, my imagination ran wild as I slipped into bed so I could touch myself. I looked through the pictures and examined every inch of the naked bodies. I swear, my orgasms were so much more powerful than ever before! I remember thinking how hard my clit became as I examined every inch of them.
Two of the magazines were naked girls, which is how my fascination with beautiful women developed, but that’s a blog for another time. The third magazine was my favorite because it had both guys and girls. Gorgeous guys and very sexy girls! The images totally titillated my senses (I love that word – “titillate”!). I can still see their thick, semi-hard cocks, and the sexy round asses or well-manicured muffs!
It was several weeks before I moved beyond the pictures and began looking through the rest of the content. My favorite of the three magazines had letters that were submitted by readers, detailing their sexual escapades. These were, theoretically, people who wanted to share stories with the world about the fantastic sex they’d recently had. I knew it must have been amazing, very memorable sex for them to take the time to write down their story and send it in to the publisher. And back then, it was a lot of work to write a letter and send it through snail mail!Reading My First Stories
The stories would usually go into great detail about the people meeting, their attraction, and the physical passions they felt. The writer described their partner’s appearance and demeanor, as well as their asses and cocks. I was allowed inside their minds to understand what they desired, how badly they needed it, the intensity! They invited me into their bedrooms, kitchens, and backseats of cars for a voyeuristic view. Several of the story lines are still embedded in my memory, I read them so many times.
There was the girl who fucked her college professor to get a higher grade in English class (which just spurred on the attraction I had for my math teacher). Or the threesome when the woman couldn’t decide which she liked better, her best friend’s pussy or the boyfriend’s cock. And the most original for me (at the time), the guy that was fucking a horny housewife in the kitchen and cracked an egg, spreading the slick whites over his cock so he could ease it into the woman’s ass.
My orgasms spiked! I read the letters and touched myself. I massaged my clit slowly while eagerly perusing the stories. I rubbed my slit carefully, methodically, imagining myself with a professor… fantasized about a threesome… wondered what it felt like to have my ass filled! God, it was delicious, ever so slowly touching and fingering!
I would lift my ass off the sheets and plunge my finger into the hole, then draw the wetness along my thick, hard clit. Pressing hard as I lifted the hood and exposed the underside, my mound blossomed. The lips were so swollen afterwards and my pussy tingled much more than it ever had before. It was the first time I actually had to cover my own mouth while I came. God, I exploded!
Of course, I knew (or expected) that some of the stories were made up – maybe all of them. Heck, I didn’t care! It made no difference. The sexy stories provided me a means of not relying solely on my imagination, but allowed me to mix imagination with visuals and a thorough description of the action. I could see what was happening, nearly smell the sex in the air and, thanks to my fingers, feel every sensation! I didn’t even need to close my eyes to put myself into the fantasy, I just had to continue reading.
Later, I would read erotica with my girlfriends or boyfriends, and I still do today. It hasn’t lost its charm at all, in part because I’ve had so many fantastic experiences reading stories by myself or with a partner. The internet has just made it that much easier to find good erotica, to download and read it just as I’m climbing into the sheets. I do this one or two nights a week and even during the day sometimes when I just need that release.
What I enjoy most is reading to my partner while being kissed, tongued, pleased in every way. I’ll read quietly, my heavy breathing mixed in as they play, loving my nipples, ass and pussy. It’s so difficult to maintain focus while my lover (and sometimes more than one) is tending to me, teasing and satisfying my ache. When I just can’t take anymore and the most wonderful orgasm has rippled throughout, then it’s my turn to torment them!
But, that’s all part of the allure. One of us is focused on reading through shallow, raspy breaths, trying so hard to hold the book or tablet upright, not wanting to drop it. I certainly can’t watch what my lover is doing as they alternate between fingers and tongue. I’m too busy trying to read aloud. One minute, a girlfriend is fingering and licking me, the next a vibrator presses against my nub. Or my husband is suckling my clit before sliding his cock inside and slamming me against the headboard.
One of the best parts of reading erotica is the timing. I have to finish the story, completely, before I allow myself to cum. It’s just a rule I have in my head. I can’t cum until the characters do. I need to know how it ends for them, to know they’re completely fucked in every way. And I need to climax with them.
Which means, I love the longer stories! I’m such a “build it up longer” kind of girl, I just love seeing how high I can get that peak before I allow myself to crash through that orgasmic wall! The greater the anticipation, the more incredible the cum.
When I’m reading erotica, by the time I’ve finished my first orgasm, I just can’t stand it anymore – my lust takes over and I have to take my partner, to feel and taste them. I’m so hungry, so filled with complete carnal cravings, I have to touch, grab, lick, and fuck them! The experience is intense and the orgasms even more so!
Later, I would find other ways to stimulate myself – role playing, watching porn, exhibitionism, spanking… But I’ve never let go of my love for erotica. And I never will!
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Love and Sex!