I stumbled upon the world of erotic literature long before I had access to the internet. My first encounter came when I found my mom’s romance novels tucked away in the basement. At the time, I couldn’t understand why she’d leave them lying around for a curious teenager to discover. But discover I did, and I was shocked to find explicit scenes that were, to put it mildly, quite graphic. Even in my youthful naivety, it was clear that those pages were merely a pretext for people to get it on.
In college, the term “erotica” emerged, and it became socially acceptable to indulge in such reading—provided it met certain standards. Anne Rice’s Beauty trilogy was a frequent topic of discussion, even if some pretentious peers dismissed it due to its author. Still, we embraced it for its exploration of BDSM, a theme many of us were encountering for the first time. D.H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover was also widely accepted, as it discussed intimacy without explicit detail.
Yet, our true literary idol was Anaïs Nin. Having been romantically involved with the controversial writer Henry Miller, her works dabbled in a variety of sexual experiences—from voyeurism to polyamory—much more provocative than the Fabio covers we were used to. We were hungry for more.
Fast forward a decade, and I found myself in a different chapter of life—married and with children. I had long shelved my Anaïs Nin books, thinking my romantic life was secure. But then, my sex drive took a nosedive. The arrival of kids, who are notorious for interrupting intimate moments, didn’t help. More significantly, I had started taking SSRIs to manage my depression, known for diminishing libido.
Once upon a time, intimacy was a regular occurrence; now, it dwindled to once every few weeks. Something had to change. That’s when I recalled the allure of erotica. Feeling sheepish about revisiting my old favorites, I took to the internet for new material. In secret, I searched for erotic fan fiction. I had previously dismissed this genre, but now I was ready to dive in—and dive in I did.
What I found was a treasure trove of narratives that sparked my interest. My tastes leaned heavily toward the nerdy side, so I read about Mulder and Scully from The X-Files and the romantic escapades of characters from Twin Peaks. I even indulged in some Fringe fan fiction that explored polyamorous themes—something I discovered I was quite intrigued by. The combination of these stories reignited my passion.
So, what did I do? I took action and approached my husband with renewed enthusiasm. Our sex life not only returned but improved significantly. The erotica inspired me to experiment with new ideas that I had read about, and my husband, amused yet supportive, welcomed this change.
I didn’t insist on role-playing or adopting character names—though that could have been fun. Instead, I simply enjoyed the inspiration these stories provided. Much like Peter Pan’s advice to think happy thoughts to fly, I found that focusing on these stimulating narratives helped me navigate the challenges of parenting and life’s stresses, allowing me to embrace intimacy once more.
Thanks to the creative minds behind the scenes in the world of erotic literature, my libido returned, and my marriage flourished as a result. I owe a debt of gratitude to those anonymous writers, especially those crafting tales of romantic adventures that resonate with me.
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Summary
This article explores how reading erotica helped revive the author’s dwindling sex drive after marriage and children. Initially discovering the genre through her mother’s novels, the author later embraced erotic fan fiction as a means to reignite intimacy with her partner, leading to a more fulfilling sex life.