My boyfriend was very enthusiastic about the job. Working at a sex shop made me interesting. "Hi there, Joe. You remember Alex, my girlfriend who does porn?" At every social engagement, it became an instant topic of conversation to cover uncomfortable silences. Sometimes he couldn't wait for them to ask me what I did for a living. He'd tell them to ask me.

It took me a long time to view sex as the natural, wonderful activity it is, let alone feel comfortable enough to get raunchy. My first orgasm was an accident, shortly before my 20th birthday. I spent the next several years trying to figure out how it happened, so that I could make it happen again. I couldn't go down on a guy without revulsion until I was 21. Masturbation was an art I discovered when I was 23. But once it happened, once I figured it out, I was hooked on sex, on exploring what makes a body respond, and what doesn't. In a world filled with every possible form of pleasure, with technological advances that stagger the imagination, with every conceivable mixture of confection and spice, still nothing beats an orgasm. So I figured, what's wrong with making porn?

We got pretty good at the public shtick. He'd "remember" about our latest domain name purchase, and ask me what I planned to do with the site. I'd play straight man and try to answer the questions innocently, squirming under what they were supposed to see as playfully blushing modesty. He'd watch their reactions, as they stared at me.

It just never occurred to me to wonder why it bothered me.