It's Friday, people! How wonderful is THAT!
And while I haven't written any porn for you today, I would still like to talk about porn, because porn makes the world go round. I think. My world, anyway.
Believe it or don't, but I've always liked porn. Shock!
I found dirty magazines in my parents' bedroom, and once in this batch we were staying at in the Marlborough Sounds, and I dunno, various times throughout my early childhood, and I was more than fascinated. It was, like, this exciting thing that I wasn't meant to be looking at but which I couldn't stop looking at. I would gaze and gaze at these amazingly sexy women and their genitals. Genitals! Why should they be so pleasing to a 6 year old?
I started reading erotic fiction at the age of about 10. I'm talking Shirley Conran (Lace - wow, what a slog of a book that was), Judith Krantz (fantastic stuff!), and a bit later, when I was 13, I discovered Jilly Cooper (to this day, I still read everything she writes). I had my first orgasm at the age of 13 - I think I was masturbating by accident or something and then BAM (WTF was THAT?), my life changed forever.
Then I discovered my mum had a section of one of her bookcases (my parents' place is basically a library - my mother is the most well read person in the world. She has millions and millions of books and is always reading. Which is weird, because I never read books and simply can't get through Lolita, which I started about 6 months ago. And I refuse to read anything else until I've finished Lolita, dammit, which means I've read, I dunno, about 3 books this year. Good books though! I read 1984 for the first time. Scariest fucking book ever! The Shining, shmining!) dedicated to, er, books about sex. INCLUDING, oh yeah baby, The Joy of Sex. The 70s version! With the beard and the armpit hair! 'kay, so I KNOW that I was obsessed with that book because it ended up living in my room and years later when mum cleared out my room and chucked a bunch of my stuff out, she would have found it hiding away in my desk, amongst all the dirty stories I used to write on refill paper. Thankfully, mother is cool and is more uncomfortable about that shit than I am so would never confront me. I imagine if she did, it would go a little bit like this:
Mum: Kate, why did you have our copy of The Joy of Sex in your desk?
Me: *evil smile* Do you really want to have this conversation?
Mum: Not really. *walks off, disturbed*
After high school, I lived in this flat in Wellington, and my next door neighbour, good friend, and one time fuck, had a subscription to American Penthouse. I read it every single month. Cover to cover. I LOVED the forum. That was my first taste of pornographic stories and they rang my bell in a big, big way. This period of my life was my first porn period. As a flat, we would go rent pornos from the video shop, and we'd watch them and laugh at them and get totally turned on by them.
But after a while I lost interest and I think that was a question of quality. Pornos are just so bad. They're boring and unrealistic and the guys are (usually) unnattractive and there's never a story and there's never any real emotion and plastic tits aren't sexy and unless you're horny and in the mood for watching genitals mushing together in closeup for no real reason, it's hard to stay interested. If anyone knows of any good quality porn - with decent acting, writing and genuinely erotic sex, please tell me how to get my hands on it RIGHT NOW.
So through most of my twenties, my life seriously lacked porn. (!)
I know. It's tragic.
Now, thanks to Smallville, seperis and thete1 , and LJ and my own filthy mind, I'm all about the porn again! And this time I won't be getting bored with it, because excellent quality porn, you know, exists here in fandom. And I get to write it. About beautiful men with big cocks and psychological problems.
LIFE IS GREAT!
Now tell me how you feel about porn and when you realised you couldn't, wouldn't, shouldn't ever live without it. Go!