kinky

Nerds Make the Best Lovers

The recent lockdown has given me the largely enjoyable opportunity to reflect on my personal erotic history. One thing I’ve realized is that almost all my relationships have involved people who might be labeled as “nerds”.

That term has been twisted a bit recently, so that it has come to suggest pimply incels who spend all their waking hours playing video games. When I use the label, I mean guys who are might not be conventionally attractive, but who have above average intelligence. Nerds may be shy, unfashionable, or socially awkward. They’re not usually extroverts. Typically, they’re not sports- or fitness-oriented, preferring to read or tinker or hack away at personal projects. They’re the exact opposite of the alpha males so common in erotica and erotic romance. But believe it or not, nerds make the best lovers.

Nerds are grateful. They’re as interested in sex as anyone (maybe more), but in many cases have had less success with women because of their less-than-stellar physical appearance or their geeky interests. So when they do get some nookie, they make the woman involved feel really appreciated. At least, that’s been my experience. A well-fucked nerd is a very happy and generous guy.

Nerds do their research. A nerd understands that research can sometimes be compensate for lack of experience. My nerdy lovers have often known far more about sexual technique than I did – simply because they’d made a serious study of it.

Nerds are creative. They’re adept at devising interesting and unexpected erotic scenarios. Some of them even invent devious sexual devices for pleasure or torment.

With nerds, you have something to talk about in the afterglow. Nobody can spend every waking hour having sex. (Not even me.) When your lover is a nerd, the non-sexual moments can be just as interesting as the erotic peaks. Since I’m something of a female nerd (if that’s a concept that makes sense), I’ve often enjoyed long philosophical and/or technical conversations with my geeky partners.

Nerds are kinky and experimental. Okay, that might not be true of all nerds, but based on my personal experience I’d say the kink quotient is a lot higher than for supposedly masterful alphas. I had one nerd lover who enjoyed dressing up as Dr. Frankenfurter, corset, garter belt, stilettos and all. That same guy took me downtown to some seedy adult theater, where we watched dirty movies and played around in one of the booths. Then of course, there was the man who initiated me into dominance and submission, an Uber-nerd if there ever was one, who had degrees in physics and philosophy and a substantial private collection of BDSM porn.

My husband probably qualifies as a nerd. Certainly he’s brilliant, creative and able to fix any sort of machinery. He also looks a bit like a short Scandinavian troll (especially when I met him, when his face was obscured by a bushy red beard). Yet as we got to know one another, he told me story after story (at my urging) of all the women he’d bedded. Guess they’d figured out they should look past the surface! Alas, my DH is not one of the kinky nerds – but otherwise he’s willing to try almost anything.

Needless to say, nerds figure prominently in a lot of my erotica. One of my favorites is Dr. Theo Moore in The Gazillionaire and the Virgin. A brilliant computer scientist and a closet Dom, Theo is the virgin of the title. When he meets the gazillionaire, Silicon Valley entrepreneur Rachel Zelinsky, he has a lot of theoretical knowledge about sex, but no personal experience. Of course, that’s soon remedied!

Dr. Theo Moore

My current work in progress features so many nerds I can’t keep track of them all. The Pornographer’s Apprentice introduces the Toy Makers Guild, a secret society of Victorian engineers who design and build outrageous sexual contraptions for the rich and powerful. Gillian Smith is one of the few female apprentices to have qualified for the Guild – based on her intellect, her electrical and mechanical engineering skills, and her insatiable libido.

Her experience agrees with mine. Her geeky colleagues are more that capable of satisfying her – both physically and intellectually!

So let other authors swoon over gruff hunks with tight butts and six-pack abs, or pent-house billionaires with designer shoes and perfect hair. I’ll take a nerd every time.

 

They're Taking Over, Again

by Jean Roberta

Earlier this month, there was a thread in the Writers list of Erotic Readers and Writers about whether the association is “straight” in any sense.

Originally, this term seemed to mean conservative or mainstream. People who share a love for (or an addiction to) certain consciousness-altering substances refer to stone-sober outsiders as the “the straights.” People who identify as any shade of “queer” (gay-male, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, questioning, bi-curious, etc.) describe heterosexuals as “straight.” Those who are into bondage, discipline, Dominance, submission, sadism, masochism or fetishes distinguish themselves from the “vanilla” mainstream, and this means approximately the same thing as “straight,” even though a sizable section of the kinky crowd is heterosexual, and many have a sensible rule against getting high when they intend to “play.”

Considering that people join the ERWA lists because they like to read and write sexually-explicit literature, and considering that this taste is definitely not conservative, it could be argued that no one in this group is “straight” in the narrowest sense. Erotic writers have been discriminated against in various ways when they are openly identified, and this gives them something in common with all other victims of social prejudices.

By now you can probably see the problem with labels. A person who has one identity which is not universally accepted may be perfectly “straight” in another sense. From the outside, all “queers” may look similar, but I know enough transpeople to be aware that as a white lesbian married academic, I am much more privileged than someone whose sexual plumbing doesn’t match hir (his/her) outward appearance.

And then there is racial and cultural identity. Despite some very real, tangible signs of “advancement” for “the colored” (as in the name of a venerable organization, the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People), racism in various forms persists. Are those of us who look white therefore relatively “straight?” Is a kinky, polyamorous brown person who grew up in a privileged family in a Third-World country more or less “straight” than a white vanilla queer professional, raised in an urban slum, who likes crystal meth as a recreational drug and lacy lingerie as a secret indulgence? Does it make a difference if one of them is male and one is female?

In organizations that aim to be fairly diverse, there are always rumors that “they” are “taking over.” When I was on the board of a major, government-funded feminist organization, I heard from my mother, of all people, that someone who didn’t know she was related to me had warned her that the lesbians in the group were taking over. This was news to me. The past president, a married woman with much organizational experience, still seemed to be setting the tone in much the same way that the feminist movement of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries was influenced by Emmaline Pankhurst (in England), Elizabeth Cady Stanton (in the U.S.) and Nellie McClung (in Canada) while all three had husbands and children. Anyone who believes that votes for women were won by a perverse, male-bashing cabal of bitter dykes needs to do some reading.

Years ago, someone in “Parlor” here at ERWA complained that the BDSM crowd seemed to be changing the tone of the group – for the worse. The complainer waxed nostalgic for the “good old days” of a few years before when, presumably, everyone in ERWA shared a common view of sexuality, and it did not include leather. Several long-term members referred her to stories and posts with a kinky flavor, some of which dated back to the founding of the group in 1996.

As an old-timer here (since December 1998), I haven’t seen any sudden change of the culture due to the invasion of any particular community. If anything, the charge that the group as a whole is “too straight” seems more credible than the suggestion that a hot chili-pepper clique is quietly spiriting the vanilla beans away and keeping them bound and gagged in a cellar. “Straightness” could be defined as a default category. Anyone who is not familiar with a community or a lifestyle that doesn’t get much airtime in the media is, by default, relatively “straight.” The price of diversity is a shortage of in-group familiarity and the need for education. (Those who don’t understand need to learn, and those who aren’t understood are often called on to teach, for better or worse.)

There are times when those who are alternately ignored and singled out for attack prefer the company of their own tribe, and this is understandable. Some members of ERWA probably feel more at home somewhere else, at least occasionally. However, a diverse group that attracts new members is one that can survive over time. The greatest degree of general acceptance (short of accepting injustice) seems like the key to sustainability.

I think of ERWA as a hub for overlapping categories of writers, some of whom have added sex scenes to their romances, mysteries or literary stories, while some have learned to expand sex scenes into whole plots, or poetic meditations. This place is the Times Square or Speakers Corner of the erotic writing world. Even when I lurk, I can’t imagine dropping out entirely. There is just too much going on here, and I wouldn’t want to miss it.
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Hot Chilli Erotica

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