The internet is awash in porn. If you don’t find it, it will find you.
In most towns of any size, you can’t travel more than a few miles in any direction without passing “adult novelty” stores or their less classy cousins (which for some reason always have yellow windows).
Old people (like me) do it in bathtubs on television during Wheel of Fortune.
Even Publishers Clearing House markets “marital how-to” videos, or, as I like to describe them, porn for people who are against porn.
And now some bozo writes a series of racy novels (which I am sure are not in the same class as A Man with a Maid, which has been in and out of print for over a century and read mostly by not-women) that many women seem to like, thereby causing (mostly not-women) pundit heads to explode all over the place.
Women sometimes like to read about it too.
Oh, the horror.
Addendum, the Next Morning: