I was 13 in 1995 when we finally went online at my house.
It would be another six or seven years before I fully embraced the Internet’s ability to bring me a steady flow of anonymous sex partners.
He requests treatment to help "cure" him of this sexual interest.
Before the first dis-inhibiting sips of alcohol allowed me to go on dates with these guys, the Internet enabled me to talk to them, and maybe more thrillingly, to remake myself in the image of someone boys would want to talk to.
Online, I wasn’t overweight, nearsighted, brace-faced and lacking in social skills.
I only have vague memories about the first time I had sex.
(I was 15, and it was the intermission of my camp’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream; I was Helena, he was Lysander, and that’s all you need to know.) I do, however, have a very clear memory of the first time I had cybersex. His AIM handle was Frank Zappy, and I believe he claimed to be a married man from Queens.
It can provide a fantasy of starring in your own “special” flick without all the life-altering decisions and career changes.
It can also provide short-term solutions to long-distance relationships.
We met in an AOL chatroom in the “Friends” category, bonding over a shared interest in baseball and the inspiration for his screenname; I’d impressed him by referencing the lyrics to “Don’t Eat the Yellow Snow.” Every day (except Monday and Wednesday, when I had Hebrew school), between pm and pm, I’d grab the Compaq laptop from my parents’ room, zip past my babysitter watching General Hospital, and log onto AOL to see if Frank Zappy was on my buddy list.
I don’t remember the specifics, but I remember we talked about classic rock and which colleges he thought Dana should apply to.
But from the moment I first heard those dulcet dial-up tones and the hopeful purr that followed, the online experience was tinged with sexual possibility.
I remember signing into a Prodigy chat room and communicating with another purported teenager whose screen name was “slyweasel13.” My mother stayed seated next to me at the computer desk, so the chatting never turned explicit, but it was loaded with flirty winking emoticons that left me panting.
"Please, baby, just send me a special picture." Sometimes guys guilt trip you into sending one. In the virtual age, cybersex is becoming extremely popular.