Like so many lust-filled teenagers, I took to the internet in search of sex—and boy did I find it!
My first search returned your greatest hits of adult content in excessive quantities. All the videos and images I could ever want—and more than I could ever consume—even if I made it my life’s work—which is exactly what I did.
I must have gone down every digital rabbit hole I could, filling the hard drive of my PC with the sort of stuff that would be right at home in a Blockbuster Video’s over-eighteen section. If you don’t know what that is, ask your older brother, sister or your mom. Google it or use Chat GPT…I’ll wait. Don’t bother with your dad, he’ll deny everything.
Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me and I started to search for what I like to call “The Other Stuff.” These topics weren’t anything I saw in a magazine, or read online. I hadn’t heard about them from my friends and they damn sure weren’t on my parents’ syllabus when we had “the talk” (you can ask Chat GPT about that one as well). Growing up in a nice, fairly conservative home in the middle of nowhere, there was really no way for me to know that “The Other Stuff” existed—yet those things, those ideas, were in me and—most importantly—had always been there.
My first online encounter with “The Other Stuff” was nearly a joke. There was a small group of us at a friend’s house playing on their dad’s computer. After the usual bouts of unnaturally large penises and the women with creative places to put them, I asked, “What if you searched for him peeing on her face?” I still don’t know where the question came from or what caused it to pour from my mouth at that particular moment. All I know is that it had been tumbling around in the back of my mind and, more importantly, I really wanted to know. Since we were young and goofing around, we typed it in, not really expecting a result.
A result nonetheless, was given. This would be my first brush with the age-old maxim we know as Rule 32: “If it exists, there is porn of it. No exceptions.”
Videos and pictures were returned, more than I could ever want, and more than I could ever hope to consume, even if I made it my life’s…well, you get the idea.
Needless to say, we had our laughs and moved on to play video games or whatever we did before the entire world signed up for an abusive, polygamous relationship with social media.
The next night, however, I returned on my own. Soon, all my late night queries were for “The Other Stuff.” In addition to enjoying the hell out of myself, I was convinced that some dark corner of my mind contained the exception that would explode Rule 32 into a billion little not-safe-for-work shards.
Though I was never able to come up with any internet-breaking topics, my results did thin out a bit. There were far fewer videos and pictures and more, well, stories.
My young mind was fascinated that, while you couldn’t get models to do any of this stuff in real life, there were people who were thinking the same dirty thoughts that I was. I can’t begin to tell you how good it felt to know that I wasn’t alone.
I was equally intrigued that some people could articulate their thoughts well enough to create a vivid and erotic reading experience. I was aware that romance novels were a thing, but those were for our moms. Our generation had the internet damnit! Yet—there is something about a story well told that leaves an impression more enduring than the most graphic of videos or the most perfectly photoshopped jpeg. This began my lifelong, passionate interest in erotic fiction. I even tried to write some of my own. I would describe this early work as somewhere between cute and fucking terrible, but that’s the way it goes with sex right? I was having fun and, hopefully, I would get better.
Leap forward to today, I am ecstatic that there has been a positive response to the type of stories I want to tell. If you’re reading this, you are probably also a fan of “The Other Stuff.” Good for you! There are more of us than I ever would have thought.
That being said, I am happily married to a beautiful and loving partner who occasionally indulges me in my fantasies so I am not here to interact with or meet anyone. Though I won’t respond, I adore all of your comments and feedback. I read everything.