my porn journey

From believing porn was bad, to considering making porn for money, my first encounters with porn, and what I think of it now–I’ve been on a journey that has taken me to some strange places.  Actual experiences, dreams, and fantasies have fueled my sexual imagination, but porn has too.

early

I hadn’t made up my own mind yet.  The general consensus I heard was “porn is bad.”  At school, I was not to draw anyone naked, not even my own body.  How confusing–my own body wasn’t mine.

Then as a teenager, I looked at Playboy magazines with a boyfriend.  The stash belonged to his parents–the magazines were kept in a neat stack on top of a bookshelf in their bedroom.

It was a thrill to see the naked women and admire their bodies.  I laughed at the centerfold bios, which seemed fake and scrubbed clean of any weirdness or surprise.  Then I felt awkward about it, when my boyfriend told me he’d looked at them without me.

penetration

I had a friend who I visited in his bedroom.  One day he suddenly showed me a Hustler magazine, open to a page he liked, and I was shocked by the penetration.  It felt really different from the hazy ridiculousness of the Playboys–there was a feeling of grit and mild brutality.  I really liked it and was surprised at my own reaction.

Why did that friend show me a Hustler?  Was he trying to arouse me, surprise me, drive me away, blow my mind?  It did blow my mind.  I didn’t know porn could be like that.

 

video

Then when I was a young adult, I was chatting online with a stranger, and he turned the conversation to the topic of a video he wanted to show me.  He admitted it was a video of him masturbating.  I felt curious, said ok, and clicked on the link.

It was this guy, his face not shown, standing there, masturbating for a minute or two, then ejaculating.

I couldn’t believe my own senses.  It was a profound moment–almost a revelation, to see his semen shooting out of his dick he’d just been rubbing.  I’d never seen anyone masturbate before, unless I was having sex with them.  It was my first time seeing a porn video.

I watched it over and over again, at my desk, delirious with lust.  I masturbated also, sitting in my computer chair, coming on my hand.  The dirty feeling of wrongness was delicious.  I felt tender toward this stranger, yet independent.  Wow, I could see porn.

emotional

Afterward he asked me if I liked it, and I was almost speechless.  I said it was amazing, and he laughed at me.  I felt surprised he would laugh at me for being aroused by his video and slightly hurt.

A few days later, chatting with me again, this same guy cautiously introduced the topic of showing me a video of him masturbating.  Seemed clear he’d forgotten he’d already shown it to me.

I felt sad, that the experience had been meaningful to me, but forgettable to him.  It was one many such encounters over the course of my life.  It meant something to me, and nothing to him.  My heart was slightly broken.

leaving this out

Skipping everything that happened with my most significant ex, where he wanted to make porn with me and I said no, so he made it without me.

Skipping those nights during grad school when I was hurting so bad, painfully lonely, and watched scrambled porn on the last tv I ever owned.

Also skipping the people I met through a previous sexblog.  There was a man who was condescending to me, and that hurt a lot.  I’d been vulnerable to him, and when he found out how young I was, he dismissed me as irrelevant.

There was a woman whose house had burned down, and how refreshing it was to compare sexual experiences with her and talk openly about aspects of sexuality that we were both struggling with.  She was a good friend to me for years, across time and generations and financial status.  We met each other halfway.

lately

My spouse is not into porn, not sure why.  I’ve heard men are visual.  He is nonbinary but AMAB and dudeish in certain ways.  I don’t understand why he doesn’t get off on it.  He also doesn’t like one night stands, even fantasies about them.  If emotional connection isn’t there, he doesn’t want it.

I’ve known several men who are the opposite.  They can’t handle having sex with actual partners, as they can’t hold up their end of the bargain.  Emotional connection is too difficult to maintain.

A partner usually expects affection, commitment, aftercare, romantic relationship, cohabitation, or whatever, in exchange for the sex, sort of.  The guy can’t provide that, so it’s easier to pay for sex.  Porn, escorts–whatever he can do to escape the emotional debt.

I’m not saying that’s the only reason to see a lot of porn, but it’s one that’s made me sad, when someone I love has his erection pressing on me but isn’t doing it with me, and I want it.

That’s his choice, to avoid vulnerability or what he might call entanglement.  But that’s what I used to hate porn for, long ago; I thought people were wasting their energy on pretend, rather than connecting with the people they live with or otherwise know in their actual lives.

Now I understand it can be complicated.  For example, if someone has a violence to their sexuality they don’t trust, I can see how they might want to masturbate to porn rather than risk hurting someone.

I could judge all day, people who have needs different from mine.  But I don’t know what it’s like to be them.  I don’t need to set it up like they’re bad and I’m good.  They just aren’t people I want to be really close to.  I enjoy reciprocity and all aspects of love, so it doesn’t work well for me to be really close to people who can’t do love like that.

whew

Wow, what kind of theory-hole was that?  Please excuse the abstraction-fest.  We were talking about porn.

Yeah, I have a good friend who makes porn.  She is a sex worker, and I was intrigued at the idea.  I thought, hmm, a fat woman such as myself can be desirable.  Some people enjoy my body type.  Maybe I could have some niche clientele and make money that way.

I’m imagining mostly rich men who are bored, lonely, and probably in that category I was describing, of unable or unwilling to keep up regular relationships.  But they’re swimming in money, so why not pay for assistance with their sexual needs.

retail

I don’t see any problem with doing sex work.  When I worked retail, that felt a lot like sex work to me.

Men came into the store.  I was usually the only woman who worked there.  I’d listen to them, pay attention to them, laugh at their jokes at times, care, or perform care–try to care, in a way.

I might get fed up with long repetitive self-aggrandizing stories and go on break or suddenly need to alphabetize something, but for the most part, I would listen as long as they wanted me to.

A lot of it felt like ego stroking.  I would help them feel ok about themselves.  They would walk in lonely or sad, and walk out with a small smile.  They might have purchased a product in the process, or as a souvenir, almost, of the experience.  Sometimes they really came in for the product, but other times, purchasing something seemed more of an afterthought.

I was the young, kind fat woman in a pretty dress.  Not considered super desirable, fat in a fat-hating world, it was complicated because I was also young and pretty.  Back then I didn’t believe myself to be beautiful, and I didn’t package myself in that way, but certain customers came in often, and it had to do with the chance of seeing me.

Do you see how that might resemble sex work?  We never talked about the emotional, social aspect of the job and how gender and sexuality were part of it.  My labor was more subtle than a hand job, blowjob, cunt penetration, or any other such act, but I wasn’t just selling products to these guys.  If I’d had actual sex with them, that would have been different, but at least then, maybe we could admit what was happening.

Usually the thing that hurts me most is pretending we’re not doing the thing we’re doing.

cam

So yeah, I thought about camming.  I asked my friend how many hours in a row she could do it, how it felt to her, how she handled boundaries.

I was surprised she spoke highly of the experience, because I thought for me, it would be totally exhausting.  All this being perceived, trying to tantalize viewers to view longer, building relationships with people, sort of real and sort of separate from my regular self, motivated by money, not love.

I thought about how when I worked for money, I would have a work persona.  Even when I was a teacher, it was like being on stage.  I would be more upbeat, lively, personable, friendly than what I considered my real self.  Students would evaluate me at the end of every term, and I knew the scores I got were based on how funny or entertaining I was, not how much anyone learned.

viewing

I’ve bought porny books, such as the autobiographical sex comics I enjoy.  I’ve never paid for video porn.  I know good video porn exists, but I’ve seen very little of it.

1. Some really well-lit, gorgeous, well-filmed tender stuff that was catering to women was kinda cool.  I appreciate good lighting!
2. Weird complicated storylines I half-understand.  I remember a long one where this woman was repetitively drugged and raped, and the motivations were confusing.
3. Homemade threesome sex on a couch where the people seemed like people I’ve known and loved–down to earth, content, rough around the edges kind of people who seemed to like one another and had done this before.
4. BDSM stuff that’s my preferred level of play-violence and power play.
5. Something in an Eastern European language where Snow White was doing it with all the seven dwarves.  It was funny mostly but also hot.  I like fairy tale porn–I’ll admit it!
6. Visibly pregnant people, yeah, for sure.  Making a pregnant person come would be my joy, but probably I’ll never have the opportunity, so it would be nice to watch.
7. Breasts–all kinds of breasts, but mostly breasts kinda like mine.  Large, drooping, imperfect, comforting breasts are my favorite, but I like all the breasts.
8. Multiple orgasming, more realism, people who seem happy to do it, people who look different from usual porn actors, more gender creativity and nonbinary people, vocalness.  The sound is what I get off on more than the sights.  Or the ideas, like power stuff and play-cruelty.

yes

I’d pay for really good porn, but I haven’t done the research because it’s not a priority.  My sex drive is good, and I have my spouse collaborating with me on sexual experiences frequently.  So there’s no need right now.

If I was single, that would be different.  But I’ve never been single, since I was a teenager.

My porn journey is my own, and I wonder about yours.  Maybe one night you’ll whisper it to me.  I wonder what you like to see, how you’ve changed or not changed, in what you like.  Have you made porn.  Is it nourishing, for you.  I hope it’s nourishing.