In my quest to become the fore-least fabricator of filth, I’d previously cataloged my initial foray into writing bad erotic fiction. While these missives from the tawdry trenches expounded on finessing my technique, I’ve now begun to test the waters of writing for different subgenres of smut.
In the literary world, “genre fiction” is frequently met with upturned noses and a degree of snobbery. Some critics subscribe to the belief that genres like horror, sci-fi, or fantasy lack depth, leading readers down a path of pure escapism instead of exploring rich social commentary. I’d disagree. Some of the best world-building and most layered characters can be found in genre fiction.
Must everything be so on the nose these days that we’re unable to perceive allegory or metaphor unless a story is set in the “real” world, complete with heavy-handed messaging?
Besides, what’s wrong with a little escapism?
Erotic fiction is yet another genre category, with bad erotic fiction being a whole other subgenre.
I’ve started to get more granular in my exploration of sub-subgenres within the world of terrible erotica, pushing the boundaries of bad taste and my own imagination. Come (heh) with me on my continuing journey as I explore more bad erotic fiction writing prompts, focusing on several salacious subgenres just begging to be written into submission by my quivering quill.
Let’s do this!
Bad Erotica Genre Exploration 1: Scintillating Senior Sex
Take a spin through different genre sections on your favorite adult streaming hub and you’ll see popular categories that swing from varying ends of the spectrum. At one end, you’ll see “Barely Legal.” At the other, you’ll find “Mature.” It’s either a nubile lass succumbing to the charms of a seasoned gent or a MILFs Gone Wild bonanza that pairs a hot, older (read: 40-50) cougar with a young stud.
BORRRRRRING!!!!!
There’s a prevailing myth that sex is solely the province of the young. If you ever want to see someone’s face curdle like milk laced with apple cider vinegar, start talking about seniors bumping uglies.
Sure, there are some outliers, like films devoted to much, much older women — like Slammin’ Granny in the Fanny and 87 and Still Banging, which boasts a surprisingly solid 7.8 (out of 10) rating on IMDB. However, there isn’t much in the realm of erotic fiction targeting the AARP crowd. Considering that Viagra pulled in over $1.67 million in sales in 2024 and that 1 out of every 6 people in the U.S. are age 65 or older, this is an untapped market brimming with potential.
Old people have sex, too. With each other. It’s time we acknowledged that. Observe this saucy snippet featuring two pervy pensioners preparing to plow:
With her fresh-from-the-salon rinse, Ethel knew she looked damn good.
She eyed Myron lustfully, giving him a coy wink.
“Just because the wrapper’s wrinkled don’t mean the candy ain’t sweet,” Ethel purred.
Myron’s eyes traced the line of her support hose seam suggestively creeping down the back of her leg.
Ethel slowly unzipped the front of her floral housecoat. Her breasts spilled out like twin bowls of tapioca pudding.
Myron shivered with what he hoped was excitement.
Did I take my beta-blockers today?
Remembering that yes, he did in fact take both his beta blockers and water pill with his morning Ensure shake, Myron allowed himself to surrender to passion and the faint stirrings below the belt of his polyester Haband slacks.
Said slacks were hiked halfway up his chest, but it had no bearing on the boner beginning to strain against the front of his not-so-tighty-whities.
He was eager to fill Ethel’s granny gulch with every throbbing inch of his hot Hebrew National.
Ethel unzipped Myron’s pants, sliding them downwards.
Then she loosened his truss.
Ethel eyed Myron seductively, smiling at him with most of her own teeth.
Thrilled at the prospect of oral with a lady his age that wouldn’t wind up as a gum job, Myron’s member sprung to life.
Ethel anxiously tugged at his waistband and Myron’s balls dangled freely like warm, hairy bubblegum.
He reached down to cup one of Ethel’s grandmommy milkers, meeting her gaze.
“If we hurry up, we can make it in time for the Early Bird Special.”
“I’ve got a two-for-one coupon,” Ethel murmured.
Myron groaned with pleasure. This really was a two-for-one kind of day.
See! Old people getting it on can be pretty damn hot, right? Kinda makes you want to start planning for your golden years and scope out some retirement villages pronto.
Bad Erotica Genre Exploration 2: Organic and Orgasmic
Another overlooked subgenre involves food and feeding. How many times have we seen the stale bedroom trope of whipped cream being trotted out, using one’s crotch as a serving dish? Strike up the Only Fans band and you, too, can pleasure yourself to the tune of someone farting on a hot dog or sitting naked on a cake and sloshing their ass around in buttercream icing.
Do you realize how much fuckin’ high-fructose corn syrup is in that shit?!
If you ask me, this genre could use a little freshening up. Why not add some organic produce into the mix for a healthier spin on fornication with food? Maybe a little fair trade fisting or farmer’s market fingerbanging?
Okay, that might be taking things a little too far. Let’s ease into this subgenre exploration nice and easy, taking the action to a Trader Joe’s parking lot.
“Wait!” he called. “You left your organic kale at the checkout counter!”
“Oh!” she cried. “It must have fallen out of my reusable hemp tote!”
He handed her the bundle of organic greens that she’d absentmindedly abandoned.
Their hands touched. The energy was more electric than her vehicle in hybrid mode.
His fingers were calloused from years of playing nylon-string guitar at coffee house open mic nights.
“Thank you,” she smiled. He was cute and thoughtful.
“My pleasure,” he smirked back, imagining what she’d look like wearing nothing but a fleecy Patagonia vest.
“How could I possibly repay you?” She licked her lips, tasting the ethically-sourced vegan beeswax of her lip balm.
A gentle breeze fluttered through the parking lot. A few pieces of ripe fruit burst free from their paper-not-plastic bag, rolling across the backseat before escaping her eco-friendly vehicle.
He caught them effortlessly. “Please. Let me squeeze your nectarines.”
She glanced down and noticed that his ripe, locally-sourced plums were prominently outlined through his breezy bamboo joggers.
“Well…. Stone fruits are in season.”
Moments later, he was driving his organic beef jerky into her yoni cave, spread eagle against the side door of her Prius cruising a responsible 45 MPH on the highway to Pound Town.
This was one emission neither of them would be reducing.
Oooh weee! That was spicier than chana masala without jasmine rice! Now I know why people use the eggplant and peach emojis when sending saucy sexts.
Bad Erotica Genre Exploration 3: Powerpoint Penetration
When in doubt, mine PornHub for more genre exploration! One of the most popular themes involves some variation on the sexy secretary or horny boss trope. Without fail, you can always count on an obligatory bit about asking how well someone takes “dick”tation and things unfold from there.
While this scenario has been battle-tested by banister polishers for decades, the imbalance of power between a boss and a subordinate can feel uncomfortable for some. Nothing turns a spirited session of menage a moi into a flaccid fiasco faster than thinking about workplace performance reviews. While some Coldplay concert attendees may feel differently, most of us who aren’t CEOs schtupping their HR managers would staunchly agree.
Diving into this particular sexy subgenre may be more palatable if the porking paramours involved are on equal footing. While I’m not a big fan of the idea of a “work wife” or “work husband,” some people find that fodder for fantasy.
Then again, if you look at some of the self-aggrandizing posts littering LinkedIn, there’s also a sizeable workplace contingent that splooges over slide decks. Nothing revs their engines quite like a succession of sentence-fragment bulletpoints, followed by an executive summary wrap-up slide for the money shot.
“What do you think?” she asked, clicking through each slide.
Slowly at first. Then speeding up.
“Work Daddy likey,” he leered. “Work Daddy likey a lot.”
He whispered speaker notes at the footer of each slide in her ear.
“Yes!” she cried. “Give me your bar chart!”
“You’ve been a bad girl,” he teased. “I don’t think you deserve my big, thick bar chart.”
She whimpered in disappointment.
“I think you need a taste of my month-over-hot-greasy-month trendline graph.” He flashed a wicked, dental PPO plan-sponsored grin. “Where do you want it?”
“Up and to the left,” she screamed, inching her way towards climax with every plotted data point. “UP AND TO THE LEFFFFFTTTT!”
Most of us would rather chew glass than sit through another Powerpoint Presentation. However, some folks really go for a little BDSM (Business Development Sado-Masochism), proving that there’s truly a fetish for everyone. So, why not tap into some of that workplace tension to create an erotic disasterpiece?
***
They say it takes 10,000 hours to become an expert at something. While I haven’t racked up those numbers just yet, I’ve been diligently honing my craft as a solicitor of smut. If you, too, are trying your own (sticky) hand at penning bad erotic fiction, I hope you found some inspiration here for tapping into unexpected genres to get your mojo working.
Remember: Practice makes pervert perfect. Happy writing, folks!
Photo by Deon Black