Not so long ago, a close male friend of mine was commenting on how ridiculous the newest Clint Eastwood movies are. Any one with any knowledge of being 80 knows it is pretty unlikely old Clint would actually be able to knock down gangsters and kick them in the face, says he. In fact, upon such a kick, Clint may have broken his femur.
We all know it somewhere: Movies lie. Some more than others. One huge liar, in my humble opinion, is porn. And it’s fine. We all enjoy impossible jokiness in our comedies and ridiculous explosions in our action movies. What would the Street Car Named Desire have been like if it were not for the ridiculous method acting? Why not go with some extra glitz and glitter in the porn department, right? I think it’s fine. My only issue with the situation is this: As a culture, we dialogue so little about actual sex, how it really works, and how to make it the best it can be that we wind up absolutely baffled when men can thrust and parry for 45 minutes. We’re astonished when penetration doesn’t bring women to orgasm upon rolling orgasm. And we’re beyond confused when something that seemed sexy on the laptop does not actually execute to sexiness in real life.
I bring this up today because one of M’s favorite moves to try is to get me to touch myself while he’s inside me. Why wouldn’t he be? Every porn star ever, apparently so turned on by the notion of a penis in general, does this in every porn movie. I hate this move. As I hate hell and all Montagues. Why, you ask? Well for one thing, masterbating takes rhythm for women. It just does. And with you getting tired and slowing down and me trying to speed up to my moment-o-pleased, its a rhythmic and bizarrely like nails on a chalk board. Why else? Because you’re in the way. Yep, I said it. If you can’t stand perfectly straight and avoid leaning on my clit don’t expect me to be able to reach her. One more reason? I’m the way! My boobs are huge and my arms are short. It is a mechanical impossibility.
In the perfect, Cirque de Sole-like world of porn this works perfectly. Two perfectly sculpted people who do this for a living are able to accomplish this. However, in real life, it does not work. Whoops! Ruined the fantasy. Also, the act of penetration is not so thrilling as to ever have excited me to the point of wanting to self-please while being stared at in spite of all the other factors to interrupt. And in this sexual encounter, I have as much interest in being pleased as you and it doesn’t happen at the mere mention of your penis being a penis around me. I know this may come as something of a shock to many of you.
Your particular penis may be great. But we do not feel the way you feel about it. In any way. At any time. At most, I’ve been able to muster a feeling of affection for the particular penis that occupies most of my sex life. I’m turned on by how obvious you being turned on is. And it turns me on to know I make you feel good. However, the thought that his entry into my day may be greeted with frantic uncontrollable gasps and masterbation…. a little off.
Listen men. Really listen. Because a real woman wants to be pleased and if you ask, can usually tell you how. If she can’t, then explore her. Really explore with the same amount of attention and discipline that court stenographers use. I will cover this a bit more in future posts.