So I’ve traversed the sex blog neighborhood enough to finally get some sense of what it is I like most about erotic writing/blogging: beauty (visual and literary), perceived honesty, detail, and simplicity.  I must have viewed a hundred different sites over the last few days, only to “follow” or link to a carefully chosen few.  They run the gamut from tame to fetish to literary to dark to humorous.  But they all have beauty in common.  Of course, as we all know, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so maybe you won’t agree.

I can say that in my internet travels, I have seen sex in it’s ugliest forms (trivialized, caricatured, and malicious).  Anything related to sex can be ruined in this way.  Likewise, anything can be made beautiful if the participants are willing and lucid.

Pictures of drunk college co-eds doing things they will regret in the morning – ugly.

Stories of rape or child pornography – ugly (though, I will admit that I have a lurid fascination with Lolita).

Poems about voluntary submission, artwork detailing alluring sexual poses, classic pin-ups – beautiful.

I, personally, am not interested in any deep level of BDSM (doesn’t mean I don’t like reading about it, though; and I appreciate that some of you are out there writing about it so that people like me can understand and live vicariously through your exploits).

Mostly, I like reading about things that I would actually do.  Things that I have done.  Things that I understand.  It’s a way to connect, if only for a moment, with a virtual stranger.

I think that’s probably the most intense part of sex-blogging.  The intimacy.  The miles that separate are disintegrated by the crossroads of internet pathways.

I’m just one more pathway.  But maybe you’ll cross it.  Maybe you’ll stop and stay awhile.  And if you do, in some small way, we will have shared an intimacy that even my closest friends have not shared.  You, my dear internet reader, will know more about my sex life and interests than pretty much anyone besides my husband.  It’s a strange world that we have become.  Public anonymity.

Ironic.