I no longer find it stimulating.
I waited a long time to start dabbling in the no pants dance. I waited for a bunch of reasons, some within my control and some outside of it. I waited and research and fretted about disease and matured and decided that I wanted to limit to my experiences to people I actually care about and waited for one of those and by the time I got around to it I was in my mid-twenties and pretty sure I knew what to expect. And I did, to an extent. I was well versed in all the equipment, and I had what I'd like to think was a decent idea of what to do, and most of it went pretty much as I expected except for the deep kissing where I was not prepared for the taste of someone else's saliva.
There were things I was not prepared for, though, and those have made all the difference. The thing is that sex is fun and stimulating and pleasurable, but it's also fleeting. It's like a delicious meal, you have a heck of a lot of fun when the food is in your mouth or making its way towards your stomach, but by the next morning it starts to blend into the other delicious meals you've had and the pleasure fades. How many good meals do you remember, I mean really remember, compared to how many you've had. The numbers are infinitesimal.
And sex is the same way. A great orgasm is like a spoonful of hazelnut gelato. Incredibly rich and satisfying while you're experiencing it, but soon melting away into not much more than a pleasant memory a bit of stickiness. Unlike hazelnut gelato you can't just spoon out more either, you have to wait.
It was in the waiting that I discovered what there is to really recommend sex, the same thing that recommends the best meals, and that is the company.
Sex may be like food in that it's messy and fun, but it's also similar in that it's something you can share with someone you like. Looking back over the start of this relationship the times that have really affected me haven't necessarily involved direct genital stimulation. It's been the silly fun moments of friendship. The time I got into the shower with her while wearing sweatpants and covered us both with little black specs of fabric, or the times she's squirmed up in my arms, looked me deep in the eye, and stuck our her tongue. Even the Sweet Lou incident. It's been the way we're able to laugh together, naked and touching. The deep discussions after we both have our...tastes of ice cream...and the compromises that get us both what we want. Being naked and touching with another person is an intimate act that breaks down a lot of the walls of social convention. It's harder to hide, harder to pretend things don't effect you or masquerade. That raises the stakes, makes the little games more intense, enhances the experience, but it doesn't change the fundamental facts of human relations. Jennifer and I can both laugh at the fact that we're just hairless apes in a crazy world trying to get our rocks off together in the most ridiculous ways. We have comraderie and friendship in our closest moments, and that's what matters most.
Porn has none of that.
It's just an empty physical act, and having now been where those people are...it seems sad. Nobody in porn ever seems to tell a joke, or make a mistake, or worry about whether the cat was fed. Watching strangers fuck is like watching strangers eat. It's "My Dinner with Andre" if Wallace Shawn had never said anything beyond "This is really tasty. Oh I really enjoy this. Oh yes, I want another bite. I'll have another bite."
What's the point? I mean when you've never been there, when you've only imagined, it's stimulating. Now it just seems hollow and really sad. I wonder if these people ever engage in the sort of sex where they blindfold and tie up their partner, tell her they're going to do something dastardly to her, and then go to the computer and put on crappy 80's music. Not on camera. Maybe there is pornography out there where a couple who genuinely likes one another gets goofy and silly and has fun on camera. There seems to be every other kind of sexual act imaginable. Maybe that would be worth watching.
For now, though, I've learned about a whole new set of dimensions to sex. Not just touch and smell and taste, but camaraderie. It's a Mel Brooks movie between the sheets complete with silly characters, puns, and confusing props. Once you've experienced that, once you've lost your breath through laughter and orgasm within the same five minutes...well...
Who wants to go back to watching something that could have been put together by Michael Bay?