In my early teens, I heard about and its mutating typewriters and talking cockroaches. While I would hardly classify its dystopic vision as erotica now, at the time, was my first foray into consuming smut. It was because of Burroughs that I knew about the particular musk that blooms when a rectum is penetrated, and that death-by-hanging produces spontaneous trouser tents. The first Burroughs I read was , but I buried myself in a few of his stories, and thus the arc of my recollection is just as non-linear as his narrative.
In my early teenage years, I encountered a work that featured bizarre elements like mutating typewriters and talking cockroaches. While I would not label its dystopian themes as erotic today, it was my introduction to adult content. This particular author, William S. Burroughs, expanded my understanding of sexuality in unexpected ways, revealing insights and sensations I had never considered before.
The first book I read by Burroughs left a profound impact on me, leading me to explore more of his unconventional stories. His unique narrative style mirrored the non-linear nature of my memories, reflecting the chaotic and fragmented experiences I was going through at that time. This journey through his works opened my eyes to a new realm of literature that challenged the norms of storytelling and sexuality.
