Slightly off the mark, perhaps, because I think I was heading for the fleshpots long before I happened across my first erotic novel, but I'm always curious to know what people's first experiences of sex in the written form were.
It's a bit ironic, really, that most of the girls at school couldn't wait to get their hot little hands on vaguely naughty publications like Danielle Steele, Lace and all that bonkbuster stuff that was around at the time, while I, thinking I was taking a genteel Georgian-era romance off the bookshelf, found myself staring into the luscious nethers of Fanny Hill.
I was fourteen, I think, and it was rather an eye-opener. In quite a frightening way too - a scene where she fears she will be split in twain by a fellow's enormous manhood stuck vividly in the memory. I don't think I found it erotic particularly - definitely bawdy and earthy, but I was a bit too sheltered to appreciate it then.
So while it might not have stirred anything much, it certainly piqued my curiosity.
What floods of bliss! What melting transports! What agonies of delight!