Posted by Sophie Westrope on August 9, 2013 · Leave a Comment
The first time I really felt like I understood sex and its appeal wasn’t that time they showed us the awkward video of the Mummy and Daddy having ‘special cuddles’ to make babies in science. Nor was it when my sister told me about her first time. In fact it was when I stumbled across a saucy scene in the pages of a crime novel.
Reading the author’s description of the feelings that went along with the act, and not the mushy romantic kind, and the way the words just seemed so laced with intent opened my eyes to why all of those movies and programmes had focused so heavily on the horizontal tango. I finally stopped cringing at the thought of all that wetness and quietly wondered if I could ever write about sex as eloquently as this person did.
For months I hid that book away thinking it made me some kind of fiend for owning something so naughty. Like the word ‘porn’ was branded in hot red letters on my hands whenever I picked up the crisp cover. But then social networks like Tumblr and Twitter taught me that enjoying a little explicit text wasn’t a taboo act, it could actually be quite liberating. And educating.
Then finding Literotica made me like a kid in a candy store. All of that filth under one URL! I’d no longer peek out from behind the inconspicuous covers of Welcome to Paradise, instead I could just click on a new tab and be transported into an STI and pregnancy free land of sexy fun.
My first minor brush with sexting was enough to get me hooked too. Although I was convinced that having such explicit content in my inbox meant that the police were going to come screeching down my road, sirens blaring at any given moment and seize me for some sort of sexual crime.
When I eventually realised that a simple password lock could solve all risk of being outed as a cheeky sexter I soon began to dabble more often. My credit took a hit but the buzz I got when my phone would light up was worth spending extra pennies on every week. In hindsight perhaps my involvement with past conquests was only so prolonged because of the ability they held on the keypad of their ancient pay-as-you-go handset. Even recently when I’d changed my mind about a certain individual, I couldn’t bring myself to give up our late night illicit messaging. The knowing that we’d never actually be between the sheets no longer mattered because he’d played with the most sexual part of a woman’s body: her mind.
While I can go for months without the real deal nookie, neglecting myself of some saucy SMS’ is too much to handle. And even in the driest spells – if ya catch my drift – of a long-distance relationship I could tolerate not being able to touch his skin by having him tell me what he’d do if he was standing right in front of me at that very moment. It didn’t matter that I knew in reality he’d probably roll over and fall asleep after a tiring day because my frontal lobes were tingling and the ding of a new text was enough to send my heart rate racing.
So you can all keep your sweaty tangled limbs, I’ll take an unlimited text mobile plan and a thesaurus.*
*terms and conditions apply. Rates may be subject to change depending on my mood. Please check in store for details
