"Trash, Smut, &...Romance"

     Does anyone remember the first truly salacious,  titillating, smutty, trashy, sexually charged romance novel they ever read? For me, it was "Sweet Savage Love" by Rosemary Rogers.  It was full of passion, desire,  and inevitable fulfillment.  What an eye opening page turner for my untried, unawakened mind.  Up to that point, the closest I'd gotten to anything remotely sexual, was the Real Confession & True Love magazines I'd gotten from my best friend (whose mother was far more open & liberal minded than my own), and had been able to secret into my room.
     The books I'd read heretofore, used vague phrases like, "He surged and purged, and I emerged a woman." Corny paraphrasing I know, but you get my drift.  I wanted to know EXACTLY what happened between surging...and being made a woman.  Did 'he' rush in like a superhero (from God knows where) and you suddenly arose from your cocoon? What?
     Not only had earlier allusions to sex been generically vague, but some of the romance novelists must have adhered to the belief that women always said no, but  really meant yes.  It was up to the man to 'coax' "it" out of her.  Their books read like true crime novels.  You'd read, "He kissed me like I 'd never been kissed before, touched me in places I'd never known existed,  pushed aside my corsets & petticoats, and plundered me to my depths." It sounded more like a 'smash and grab, or out and out rape than unending, endearing love and passion.
     Rosemary Rogers, and others like her, actually wrote about flesh and blood heroines, who often decided their fate, determined their destinies, and yearned for, engaged in, and shock of shocks, enjoyed and reveled in sex! I read each of her books in turn, but none were better than my first, - "Sweet Savage Love."
     I was a great  Danielle Steele fan for awhile, and would grab her books the minute they hit the bookshelves.  I loved her plots, - star-crossed loves, thwarted by convention, boundaries, significant others. But, her endings were so predictable. True, undying love prevailed, and the couples always wound up together, but there was no sex. The lovers kissed, touched tenderly, then cuddled and spooned throughout the night like a pair of eunuchs! I yearned to read about passionate love, with lots of steamy sex. At that juncture in my life, I'm not even sure "50 Shades of Gray" would have fit the bill!
Anyone else have fond memories of a favored trashy romance novel?