Some kids I knewboth at my Catholic school and the seemingly heathen public school nearbyhad access toporn.
I favored a book of musical theater scripts from the ’60s and ’70s.
Not that I knew what it meant.
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And unsurprisingly, there was absolutely nothing about the mysterious female orgasm.
I can remember four my senior year.
I knew pregnancy would interfere with my plan to escape our sports-obsessed cow town just outside of St. Louis.
Thanks to dry humping, I finally understood what an orgasm felt like:amazing.
As the years passed, my sweet guy morphed into a total jerk.
Only now, we were regularly having sex and I understood even more what the big deal was aboutorgasms.
These were way better than the ones I got from dry humping.
I learned later that coming from penetration wasnt a given, but it was never a problem for me.
And when you added in clitoral stimulation, hoo boy, it was a good time.
In bed, that is.
Out of bed was an entirely different story.
Wed flirted for months.
It was the ideal distraction in an office run by a madman who had a 2-year-olds propensity for tantrums.
As interactions with Jesse got more flirtatious and less professional, my necklines got lower and my hemlines higher.
The nuns would not have approved.
After I left for another, less-chaotic workspace that fall, I assumed Jesse and I would lose touch.
What did happen was the absolute best sex Id ever had.
I had no idea I could have that many orgasms, in that many positions.
Standing up, lying down, on top, on bottom, from behind.
I was a writer already at that point.
I had a pop culture blog, and Id just started reviewing theater and dance.
This would need to be erotica.
I sat down at my laptop.
I even had a very brief, irrational thought that writing this could make mepregnant.
Emotionally, it was like being that teenage virgin all over again.
Weirdly, though, once I started, the words flowed out.
I liked knowing I had a record of that time someone ripped off my panties in his living room.
Going over my first draft, I felt unexpectedly…proud.
Originally,“We Just Work Together"was just for me.
(Note: Texting someone that you had a very vivid dream about them can yield pleasurable results.)
But eventually I wanted someone to read it.
Maybe more than one person.
Who doesnt love a rave review of ones sexual performance?
Better yet, the experienceand processing it with writinghelped me realize I knew what I liked.
In 2014, I took a Writing Sex class that pushed me way beyond my comfort zone.
I penned another story, entirely fictional this time.
Thankful” was a naughty-but-sweet tale about a couple having oral sex in the back of a car.
I found I liked exploring the intimate moments of peoples lives.
Still, I wasnt comfortable putting it out there.
A week later, I got a reply: Could she buy it on the spot?
And contract me for three more?
I emailed “Thankful” to her.
Ninety minutes later I had a contract, and the piece appeared in the June/July issue.
Since I started writing erotica, I actually have had threesomes andexperimented with BDSM.
Once I started writing erotica, I also began owning my curiosity and acting upon my whims.
(In a safe way, of course: Consent and condoms always!)
At my most insecure, I still worry Im not doing it right.
And my former coworker?
I recently got a text from him.
Hed somehow found the story and thought it sounded familiar.
“Did you like it?”
I typed, and waited anxiously for the response.
*Namesincluding the writer’shave been changed to protect privacy.
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