Dec 312014
 

I’m a very lucky man, in many ways. One of those ways is that I seem consistently able to connect with beautiful women who delight in, who get off on, sending me highly personalized porn. Sometimes, it’s a photo. Sometimes, a dozen photos, organized thematically, or posed at my request. Sometimes it’s audio. Spoken voice. Reading. Masturbation. Teasing. Coming. Sometimes it’s written, by hand, by computer. Sometimes it’s sought, found, curated. Sometimes it’s video. Of any one of these other things. Of something different. (Eva and Tamora recently sent me videos, a la Beautiful Agony, of their very pretty, but very different, faces as they each reached orgasm.) Sometimes it’s something not on this list. Sometimes it’s something I’ve never imagined before, but am inspired to want, by and from you and you alone.

There are things I particularly like, generally, and there are specific things I crave from specific women. And even when I crave one of those generic things (legs spread, thighs exposed, panties covering cunt visible to me, hand in pussy, under panties, say) it’s always specific in my mind: I may well like to see virtually every woman with whom I interact so posed, but when I ask you to pose that way for me, it’s as if I’ve never seen the pose before, (as if?) it’s only you, among all the women in the world, who can slake my thirst. Right. Now. Even if you’ve sent me precisely the same picture just a day (or an hour) before.

And when your porn arrives, I consume it unlike any other porn. Because it is unlike any other porn, to me. Because it’s for me.

When I look at a beautiful woman I’ve never met, posed in (or out) of sexy clothes for a web site, directed by a photographer, I find it mildly stimulating. But when I receive, in my inbox, a picture of you posed as I’ve asked – that is a pornographic thrill of a higher order. And let me be clear: the image is not the source of the thrill. The video, the audio, isn’t what makes my dick stiffen. What makes my cock hard, what activates the arousal in my brain is the fact that you have done as I asked, given me what I want.

At times, this has gotten me in trouble.

If I ask you, say (as I did a previous distant buddy) to record a video of yourself playing with yourself for me for thirty minutes, but not coming, my thrill reaches its peak at the moment the video arrives. I don’t even need to watch it to get what I wanted.

You may have a different fantasy. Your fantasy may not be of compliance, but of performance. You may need for me to watch every minute you’ve recorded to feel that I’ve kept my end of the bargain.

But this isn’t how it works for me. I may watch. I probably will. But I won’t start at the beginning and sit through to the end, linearly. I may not even watch every moment. Rather, I’ll watch the start, to see what you’re wearing, what you’re doing, the position you’re in. And my cock will, likely, already be hard because, remember, you’ve given me what I asked.

I may fast forward, skipping ahead to see when and how what you’re wearing, what you’re doing, the position you’re in, changes.

I’m unlikely to watch the whole thing straight through, to spend time ogling each shot. I may not listen to the entire recording.

This is how I do. It’s not that I don’t value or take seriously what you send, the effort it represents. It’s just how I consume it. If this feels bad to you, we need to discuss that early. I really don’t want to make you feel bad.

  One Response to “How I consume your porn”

  1. Happy New Year and wish you a good start in 2015!

Say something! (I just did....)