Feminism

The struggle to find new language for fucking

The struggle to find new language for fucking

Reading romance novels used to be something you did under the covers in the dark, skipping ahead to the dirty bits and hoping no one could hear you slowly grinding away against yourself. Sure, grandma happily read her Harlequins in her chair in the living room, but the sweet romance those book covers promised were covering up page after page of throbbing, pulsing, driving. And then it was 2011, and everyone—like, everyone—was reading "Fifty Shades of Grey" out in the open, getting hot, bothered, and off, right there in front of everyone at the airport and on the light rail. For all the controversy about its bad writing, bad BDSM, and bad attitude...

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