I tried to keep quiet when the TV morning chat show was showing items for couples to do "50 Shades role-playing" with, featuring skinny plastic zip-ties as "restraints" -- these'd be the things policepersons (ahem) and soldiers have to go through training to use and still sometimes damage people with; the things you need diagonal cutters to remove, cuticle scissors literally won't cut it.
Then Tam and I were at the Broad Ripple Kroger and this was on the newsstand:
Yep, right there next to Quarters Crafterly and Ills Sportulated. (But no pin-up books, 'cos that stuff is dirty. Lots of the steamier romance novels, though; funny, that.) Happy, lighthearted idle reading for the shallow. Y'know what you get after that? Sometimes, this: "Italian sex-slave wife sues husband after divorce." 'Cos all that hot-sexy-fun will not necessarily stay fun forever (especially after nerve damage from too-tight zip ties on your wrists too long).
Lookit, I don't care about your sex life; mostly, I don't want to know. 93%? Seems a bit high. Sex is kind of like sports: most anyone can do it but only a few people are really built for the most strenuous kinds, and the best of them know themselves and their "sporting goods" really, really well. At that level of performance, more people read about than do and no matter how gifted you are, there will come a time when you slow down, or your interests change; you'd better plan for it.
And sometimes a spicy book is better left as a book.