Writing About Sex When Your Lover(s) Read It All

The unexpected gains of baring it all online

Being a sex writer is a precarious endeavor, to begin with. Being one when, not only your close friends, mother, and sister reads you, but also your lovers—present and past—is… how may I put it? Interesting.

The last nine months of writing about sex have been just that. Interesting.

Apart from repeatedly coming out to people in my life with various reactions—thankfully mostly good so far—I’ve dealt with placing one saucy, uncensored story after the next, from my past and current sex life, directly under the discerning lens of my lover(s).

Many times I’ve asked myself the questions: Why do I keep doing this? Who and what is it for? And, most importantly, is it worth it?

Before I started publishing here I had already written down experiences that I wanted to share, but I was full of self-doubt and anxiety about it. I knew that my then-lover would be thrilled to read stories about our experiences together; he already adored what I had shown him—about us. But how would he feel about my recounts of past adventures? And, since we weren’t in a closed relationship, what if I were to write about current or future escapades—without him? What if I were to divulge more detail than he was comfortable with? Would it cause issues between us?

All of these thoughts stressed me out and made me doubt whether I should write about sex altogether. It seemed too complicated—potentially not worth it.

But then, I did it anyway.

When I started sharing my stories last fall, I’d been dating my current partner for a few months, and while he knew a lot, I’d been painting in broad strokes. Not because I had anything to hide, but, I believe I’m not the only one who tends to spare the juiciest details of past encounters as an act of common courtesy.

When writing about sex, though, it’s exactly the fine print—the juicy details—that make a good story.

To give an example, I’d tell my partner something this:

—I had sex with ‘so-and-so’ in the park. It was hot. We should do stuff like that too.

No need to elaborate further.

In actuality, and recounting the event in writing, it went like this:

“Bursting with passion, he bent me over a fallen tree and pulled up my dress. With my knees planted in a patch of Ramsons, and held up mostly by my hair caught in his strong fist, this park-quicky was eruptive, lush, and ferocious.”

This isn’t the kind of ornate imagery we often share with our partners. Unless, of course, we’re sex-writers and decide to make over-sharing a part of our job descriptions.

My partner knew what he was in for: I’d already told him that I did not plan to restrain myself in fear of hurting his feelings or ego and that I especially would not leave out details from my past because it could make him jealous.

I was crystal clear—and I sensed he was the type who could handle it.

I was right.

Lucky for me—and him—he encouraged and cheered me on. I say ‘for him’ because I’d come to a point in my life where I was done coddling others at my own cost and had he demanded that, I wouldn’t have put up with it; I would have chosen me.

Despite my fair warnings, it was hard to be fully prepared for the truth bombs I was about to drop.

It wasn’t without a few fluttering butterflies and quivering fingers that I pressed the green ‘publish-button’ on my first sex story.

—I did it! I told my boyfriend, knowing he’d read it anyway. It was better to get it over with.

In the months that followed, he learned things about me—with a level of detail that would likely not have surfaced in regular conversation—not only about my sex life, preferences, kinks, and fantasies but about my past in general. He’s read almost every single piece that I’ve published, about my sorrows and pains, my victories, and turning points.

Some stories have been challenging for him to read, and a few have made him fear for my safety (in retrospect), others have simply made him want to hold me close and hug me.

My stories often spark debate and in-depth explorations — a few of which have taken place between the sheets. And yes, my writing definitely inspires lots of mutual lust and lasciviousness.

It has, on the other hand, not caused a single argument—not even one outburst of jealousy or grudge. Not from my current lover that is…

There have been some peculiar instances, such as an ex-lover finding a piece about himself and expressing severe discontent with how he was portrayed, causing multiple messages back and forth discussing creative freedom, use of language for literary effect—as well as my right to own and express my stories and surrounding emotions the way I experienced them, so long as I respect the privacies of the ones I write about—which I always do.

There are those who think that something is about them when it isn’t—and text you about it—to which the Carly Simons’ song always starts playing in my head: “I’ll bet you think this song is about you. Don’t you? Don’t you?”. Instead, I just smile and say as little as possible.

Other than this, I’ve only received a handful of rude comments, a single indecent request, and not one dick pic! (This is not an invitation, by the way…).

What I have gotten is plenty of sincere, heartfelt, and touching messages from readers (friends) who relate and tell me that my work has touched them or changed how they view the world in one way or another.

Who knew writing about sex could do this?

I’ve also found community, I’ve forged profound friendships—and I’ve gotten hired to write educational and erotic sex stories outside of Medium.

By listening to myself and following what only felt like a calling, I’m paving a new path on which so much seems to finally align in ways they never have before.

I keep learning that there are people out there, such as my partner, who accept, and even love me—all of me—without judgment. I’ve learned that I can be free to express myself, without fear of being ‘punished’ or ostracized, because the people who really count will be there no matter what. If anything, writing candidly and openly is an excellent way of identifying just who those people are!

Writing about sex isn’t simply an act of self-indulgent exhibitionism or rebellion—all though it can be that too, which is also valid and needed. Sincere sex-writing can be healing and empowering in a multitude of ways, for oneself and others, on both a small and large scale.

These are all the reasons why I keep doing this, and they become clearer each day. So, if you’re a closeted sex writer sitting on stories that long to be told, but wondering whether it’s worth it, I can only give you a resounding YES! It might seem scary at first, but, really, you should do it anyway.