Writer's Block: Forbidden Reading
When I was fifteen, I bought a used copy of the Kama Sutra; I was fifteen, and somehow, it seemed like the height of sophistication and sexual prowess to own a copy of the Kama Sutra, and one that looked dog-earred and well-referenced to boot. I eventually discovered that:
1. My mother didn't give a rat's ass if I had a copy of the Kama Sutra or not. Sort of disappointing.
2. The Kama Sutra is not exactly full of sexual advice that is relevant to contemporary lovers.
Also, when I was probably eleven or twelve, my friend and I read a fantasy novel together that had several very graphic sex scenes in it. I can still remember us sitting on her bed, hunched over the pages, reading them together. Neither of us knew much about sex, and these written discriptions fascinated us; I can no longer recall the passages or whether they were accurate and realistic, but I do remember quite profoundly my sense of daring and fascination. I think my friend's mother had given her the book, unaware of the racy content.
1. My mother didn't give a rat's ass if I had a copy of the Kama Sutra or not. Sort of disappointing.
2. The Kama Sutra is not exactly full of sexual advice that is relevant to contemporary lovers.
Also, when I was probably eleven or twelve, my friend and I read a fantasy novel together that had several very graphic sex scenes in it. I can still remember us sitting on her bed, hunched over the pages, reading them together. Neither of us knew much about sex, and these written discriptions fascinated us; I can no longer recall the passages or whether they were accurate and realistic, but I do remember quite profoundly my sense of daring and fascination. I think my friend's mother had given her the book, unaware of the racy content.