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For years, I didn’t tell a soul about my relationship with Frank Zappy, assuming they would think he was a pedophile and I a snaggle-toothed sex maniac.
And for those who were too nervous to put themselves out there in real life, cybersex was a conduit for experiencing the pulse-racing high of anonymous sex.
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.
I was Dana, a name I had lifted from a character on my favorite Purple Moon CD-ROM.
Dana was 19, an aspiring veterinarian, and everyone told her she looked like Britney Spears.