It’s 2 a.m. and the enemies in my new romantasy book have just turned into lovers — and it’s turning me on more than I expected. This is part of a familiar pattern, and one that speaks to my new habit of using smutty books as masturbation material on a weekly basis. My arrival into this corner of the literary world comes after years of feeling disconnected with traditional porn and other sources of solo sex material, from ethical visual content to spicy audio stories. Fantasy smut — I have discovered — is what I’ve been looking for all my life.
I’m not alone in my fascination with spicy romantasy — that’s “romance-meets-fantasy”. In fact, sales of these books are up an estimated 40% year-on-year, with 2024 seeing $610 millions’ worth. Sales this year have shown no signs of slowing down: the influence of Booktok is hard to deny, and it’s not just online where we’re feeling the love for this genre, with entire IRL bookstores — such as Saucy Books in London — being founded on the premise that romantasy (and romance more widely) is the future. In short, we’ve all gone wild for horny fae, fated lovers and slow-burn, “forced proximity” forbidden romances (with dragons, of course).
This boom in popularity suggests there’s certainly something that’s capturing our attention, and while much has been made of our new-found love for spice in mainstream media, the connection this has to our sex lives is still yet to be fully explored. What we do know is that content creators, such as Soluna Artworks are making money selling NSFW generated images of our favourite romantasy characters through Patreon, highlighting the clear appetite for smut that can facilitate our arousal (and hopefully our orgasms). We’re also seeing the rise of sub-genres that suggest we are consuming romantasy for sexual purposes. Dark romantasy, for example, is blowing up on TikTok. This is a world where the morally grey MMCs (male main characters) become even more morally grey, and the smut even smuttier.
What’s also become apparent to me is that I’m not the only one who’s seen a change in their sex life since reading these books. Speaking to like-minded readers on Instagram after sharing a call-out, I was surprised by just how many people could relate to my new habits. One, aged 28, confirms that she too, uses them for “masturbation material,” and that it’s their slow burn appeal she enjoys the most, which she describes as “so much better than random people on a screen, which feels super performative.”
Sex experts are also seeing a rise in clients turning to these resources. Georgia Grace, certified sex and relationships practitioner and author, tells Refinery29 she’s “noticing more people saying that reading smut books has had a significant impact on their sex lives and desire for sex.”
Despite the fantasy elements in these books, relatability is certainly an appeal, and a reason they’re having such a positive effect on our sex lives. The success of bestsellers like ACOTAR and Quicksilver speaks to our desire for tension, with a slow-build that incorporates emotional depth and love stories with explicit sex. “Many readers feel safer exploring eroticism when it’s wrapped in a storyline of romance, loyalty, or personal growth,” confirms Dr. Viviana Coles, marriage, family and sex therapist, and founder of VIVID Relationships. Unlike porn, where everything typically happens quickly and without much character-building, romantasy books (often written by women authors and featuring strong female protagonists) tend to prioritise women’s perspective, rather than the male gaze. We finally get stories that focus on our pleasure, which is empowering — and hot.
Smut scenes in romantasy books present innovative, exciting new ways to explore — or kickstart — our solo sex lives, too. “For those who struggle with low desire, getting lost in a storyline that mixes intimacy, adventure, and erotic tension can be a powerful way to reconnect with their sexual selves,” says Coles. Dr. Lauren Fogel Mersy, certified sex therapist and author, adds that these stories can be particularly useful “for people who have responsive desire [in comparison to spontaneous desire], which is sexual desire that emerges in response to arousal or something sexually appealing.” I’ve always struggled with getting turned on alone, so I can fully relate.
As masturbation material, romantasy books are both easy to access and ethical. They’re also not exclusively useful for single people and can “help build arousal and interest prior to engaging in partnered sex,” according to Fogel Mersy. My own experiences have proven this: during a tense time with a recent-ex, I read a spicy scene from a book out loud, which — to my surprise — prompted sex between us. Someone from Instagram similarly told me that while she doesn’t tend to use romantasy for self-pleasure, “replicating some of the scenes in real life (sans armour and dragons, ofc) with my partner has really improved our intimacy.” Another friend shared that reading the Fourth Wing series helped her to realise her then-longterm relationship wasn’t working anymore due to the lack of physical intimacy. She’s now in a new partnership with a thriving sex life.
While romantasy can be seen as a positive influence on our sex lives, there are potential drawbacks, too. Personally, I’ve struggled with using them as escapism and then having to return to reality, which is ultimately a disappointment after hours of reading about men who are dedicated to a fault, giving their women triple orgasms in under two minutes. (This is particularly sobering when I’m not currently engaging in any partnered sex.) This, Dr. Coles says, is something to be aware of. “Just like mainstream porn can create unrealistic expectations for men, romantasy can set up unrealistic timelines and experiences for women. In real life, most women don’t orgasm from two minutes of penetration. If a reader doesn’t recognise the difference between fantasy and reality, it can create frustration, pressure, or disappointment in their actual sex life.” A respondent on Instagram confirmed this does have the potential to happen. “It can spoil you a little,” she told me. “Sometimes I look at my boyfriend and think, ‘Wow, you’re never going to make me orgasm so hard that it creates a lightning storm and breaks all the buildings around us’”.
There’s also the potential for us to become habituated (and less responsive) to the material over time, argues Dr. Coles. “When erotica becomes someone’s primary source of sexual stimulation, especially if they consume it excessively, it can start to rewire their arousal patterns. This is similar to what we sometimes see with porn: over time, a person might need more and more novelty, intensity, or extreme scenarios to achieve the same level of arousal.” She adds that it’s not the books themselves that should be avoided, but “using them in a way that trains your brain to crave only a very specific, highly-stimulating kind of arousal” can be problematic. If you use the books to masturbate, you may find it better not to include them as part of your daily routine outside of a sexual context, instead creating space to prioritise self-pleasure while reading and fully engaging with the material. Reading or listening to them during everyday tasks like grocery shopping or riding the train to work is not always the ideal approach, Coles says, because it can “normalise a heightened, fantasy-driven form of sexual stimulation.”
But this is really where nuance comes in: while we can become reliant on smutty fiction or begin to use it in a less productive way, it’s relatively easy to re-establish a healthy balance. This includes, as mentioned, only reaching for books before bed when you can act upon your urges if they arrive. It can also be worth switching things up by taking a break or “looking at new genres, expanding your repertoire,” says Grace. What this can help with, she continues, is “consuming these books beyond a rigid or linear way.” And of course, if you do find yourself struggling, sex therapy is there as a resource.
Ultimately, romantasy can have an incredible impact on your solo and partnered sex life, when used productively and as part of a wider approach (I am testament to that!). Also acknowledging its limitations (and the fact these books are fiction) can go a long way in using it for masturbation in a healthy way. “Use them as inspiration, not instruction,” urges Coles. “Use them to spark conversations about your fantasies [with partners] and for solo play, pair reading with mindful self-touch instead of racing to climax — this helps you stay grounded in your body rather than just escaping into the story.” And remember that all fiction books are written to be sold as entertainment. It’s just convenient that, in this case, that entertainment comes with (hopefully) an orgasm or two.
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