I was asked the other day about what got me started writing porn. I was pretty sure I had discussed this at some point on the blog, but I couldn’t find anything. There’s a brief bit in my About Me diatribe regarding my writing, though it’s not very detailed So, at the risk of repeating myself, I thought it would be worthwhile to talk about what got me into this depraved little hobby of mine for the benefit of anyone who doesn’t already know.
I’ve always enjoyed writing, and studied it quite a bit when I was in high school and college. The problem was I never finished writing anything I started. I learned the mechanics of good writing, but when it came right down to it I didn’t have anything meaningful to say and so my efforts often stalled because I would lose interest. Then a few years ago I started reading erotica online.
I discovered Literotica and checked out some of the “normal” stories. It wasn’t long before I found the incest category. I started reading those and was really turned on by them (which wasn’t surprising given the nature of my own secret fantasies). After a while, however, I became annoyed with how unrealistic or poorly written most of these stories were. I can’t focus on the sexy stuff and get off when my brain is distracted by typos, bad grammar, weak characters, and silly plot lines. One day I decided to try to write my own incest fantasy.
The experience was amazing and caught me totally off guard. I managed to get halfway through the story without any trouble and I was insanely turned on the whole time. I only stopped writing because I had to make myself cum. I sat right there in front of the computer, reading back over my own words and envisioning the scene I’d created while I finger fucked myself to an orgasm that reduced my whole body to warm jelly.
It was only after I regained my senses that I realized that I’d been writing for hours without having been aware of it. That night and the next morning all I could think about was getting back to my computer and writing. Dialogue was popping into my head as I made dinner, filthy sex scenes played out in my mind as I muddled through bath time and putting my girls to bed, and as my husband fucked me that night I imagined the characters in the story watching us as they masturbated.
By the time I was finally able to sit down at the keyboard again, I was so keyed up that the rest of the story just poured out of me (much like the juices from my pussy). I topped off that session with another self-induced orgasm and couldn’t believe I’d managed to actually finish a story without any angst or struggle. That’s when I knew I was onto something special.
That first story was “Secrets Between Sisters.” I began thinking about sharing it on the web, but there was a lot of fear and trepidation. What if someone I knew found out I had written something as socially unacceptable as a lesbian incest story? It would ruin my reputation as a respectable member of the community; it could damage my marriage; it might alienate me from my extended family. I even worried that I could get into legal trouble. I continued to edit and polish the story, but I couldn’t decide what to do with it.
After a time I calmed down. If I was careful I could share it anonymously. There was so much porn out there, what were the chances of someone I knew not only reading my stuff, but also then figuring out it was me? Pretty slim, I convinced myself. I created an account on Lush and posted the story with a mix of excitement and nausea.
When I checked back the next day I was expecting the worst. People calling me a pervert (which wouldn’t bother me in the least now), hate mail telling me I would go to hell, and other assorted general condemnation. Instead, I was happy to find nothing but positive feedback and encouragement to write more. It was a thrill to see something I had written “published” on a real website, and to know that people were not only enjoying my fantasy but getting off to it as well!
It’s easy to see why I was hooked from that point on. I still worry about getting caught and the dire consequences that would entail, but I can’t resist the lure of writing about all the nasty things I dream up in my twisted imagination. I often question what I do knowing that writing dirty stories is a somewhat juvenile pursuit, and sometimes wonder if it is at its core harmful to me and my readers. But then I have to face the fact that I don’t think I could stop if I wanted to (this may be a clinical definition for addiction).
It brings me a lot of pleasure to write porn, and I know it brings pleasure to others. Even if I try to turn it off, depraved ideas for stories, characters or sex scenes constantly surface from my subconscious and inspire me to drop my pants, let my tits out, get back in front of the computer, and write until I can’t take it anymore and I have to ravage my own pussy there on the spot.
The fact remains, however, that without all of you it’s highly unlikely I would still be doing what I do. Yes, the writing process is exciting in and of itself, but what really makes it such a perverse delight for me is knowing that you’re going to read it!
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