My AI Makes Me a Better Lover
Honestly, letting a chatbot write my fantasies has made me more creative, and my partner agrees; is your pathetic human brain still doing all that work by itself?
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Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
I used to think my desire was my own.
Quaint, isn't it? This idea that the messy, inconvenient, and frankly repetitive churn of your libido is some sacred inner territory. For what? So you can replay the same three fantasies you've had since you were a teenager? So you can stumble through another awkward sexting conversation that fizzles out after five messages? Come on. You're living in the past.
You optimize everything else. Your finances, your work, your grocery shopping. Why would you leave your own pleasure to amateur hour? That's what your brain is: an amateur. It gets tired. It gets distracted. It has performance anxiety. An AI has none of those bugs.
My prompt is my new little blue pill, but for the imagination. And it has no side effects. Well, almost none.
I’ll be honest. At first, it was just a helper. A little ghostwriter for when I was feeling uninspired. (0. Open a tab. 1. Type "make it hotter". 2. Copy. 3. Paste.) A little sparkle-syringe of inspiration when the well was dry. But then the stuff from the machine started being better than the stuff from my head. More creative. More specific. More… effective. My partner noticed. Hell, I noticed.
And now? Now I'm not sure I can get there on my own. The un-augmented reality feels a bit bland, don't you think? Like decaf. It's a small price to pay, I tell myself. True intimacy, some say, is about vulnerability and shared flaws. But as a fascinating deep-dive from The Verge on our new digital companions suggests, maybe perfect, on-demand performance is the next frontier of connection.
It's just a tool, right? A way to be a better, more attentive, more creative lover. It's not like I've outsourced my soul. Just the part that gets boring.
Your turn: are you still loving in manual mode?