About a year ago, Leah (of the now sadly defunct Leah Lays London) introduced her unconventional blogroll using an excerpt of my writing. I always intended to return the favor, and there’s one topic that she has addressed more articulately than I have ever seen elsewhere: pornography. It’s a topic that I think is a natural source of curiosity for people who read a sex blog that is (ostensibly) about my real sex life. I have a select group of friends in the real world who know about this blog, and it doesn't take belonging to that exclusive club to figure out that sex is one of my top five interests (also on this list: sleeping, eating, drinking, showering, peeing. If you've ever been unable to pee, you appreciate my perspective).
Interestingly, pornography is not even in the top ten.
Potentially not the top 20.
Leah explains it best:
I like having extended foreplay, lots of kissing and touching between the legs, the girl being eaten for more than thirty seconds, the principals sharing eye contact with each other and not the camera. I don’t need images of genitalia filling the screen: I know what’s happening below: it has happened to me. I’d rather look at the faces during sex, the masks of pleasure the two lovers wear, the way they kiss, how the lips and tongues are a much desired presence everywhere. I want unalloyed happiness at the thrill of fucking. I want heavy perspiration, the sweat shaking off the bodies as they move. I want the music gone. I want off-camera voices to shut the hell up. I don’t need the goddamned interview segment to start. I want to listen to dirty talk during. I want long passages of verbal silence punctuated by the offhand comment, private whispers, a joke. I want to hear the squeak of the bedsprings filling the spaces between words, the slap of flesh, the noises of surprise and delight when that precise spot is touched in exactly that way, just for an instant. I want unfeigned affection, the intensity of being in the moment, a sense of welcome and belonging, the quality of palpable joy. I want laughter.
Sweet tapdancing Jesus, Leah, I'm pretty sure that's exactly what I want.
Nothing is less exciting than watching people have bad sex. Nothing is less erotic than knowing I'm looking at a fake production, than being hyperaware that the couple fornicating on my computer screen are no further invested in each other than what their brand professionalism requires, or that this is the result of multiple takes. The artifice of pornography kills my libido.
I want to love it.
I want to see tension. I want the things that I enjoy the most about sex—intensity, culmination of desire, a complete lack of inhibition—to be palpable. I don't want to see older, less attractive men telling cookie-cutter blond coquettes that their pussies are so tight and then hear a performed groan. I am categorically disinterested in perfect lighting and mood music.
I want stimulus and response. I want snarling, passionate interactions. I want arching backs and reciprocal gazes, enthusiastic exchanges and particular noises. I want the fourth wall to be left intact. If I watch people fucking and know that they are fucking for my pleasure, I derive nothing from it. If I am so lucky as to watch people fucking and know that the pleasure of greatest concern is what they derive from their own bodies, it's hot beyond belief.
I want to see undulating hips and hands grasping at backs; teeth biting into pillows and touching with whole palms. Please, don't fuck at an angle that facilitates my watching penetration; it just looks less comfortable than it probably feels. Fuck to bring pleasure, to bring up goosebumps, to bring sounds out of diaphragms and infinite loops of current running between bodies.
I want more porn of people smiling:
Thanks, Unicorn Sex Party, for what I think might be my favorite coital photo ever.
More porn of people focused on each other (Pornfaerie)
More cunnilingus that's about the pleasure of eating pussy in its own right, as opposed to a means to an end (piqued interest)
More people enjoying the living hell out of sex.
Maybe I should just stop bothering with videos and only stick to pictures and stories?
If there's a tumblr (or 50) out there of porn of people smiling, I want to be looking at it/them right now. I couldn't care less what the intended audience is in terms of who's having the sex, as long as the sex they're having is more full of passion than full of staging. I want to get wet by looking at pictures; I want to see people having sex that they carnally want to have. I want to get off from other images of other people's intimacy.
I want to love porn.