I’m not a perpetually horny creature (not like men are, anyway) but when the moment is right my thoughts can definitely take a long tumble down the steep, snowy mountain of depravity. Stop by Sbarro for a slice after shopping all afternoon and the two people behind the counter happen to be a couple of friendly dudes? Why hello there, fantastically elaborate plotline in which over the course of a pizza transaction the three of us discover a shared favorite bar, decide to meet up for drinks later, and inevitably succumb to sexual hijinks. Cause you know, if there’s drinks I’ll be too intoxicated to drive, so we’ll have to hang out in the parking lot at 2AM so I can sober up, but really what will happen is I’ll end up hanging out the back seat of the car, choking on the cock of guy A — I think his name tag said Joe when he was plating that slice of margherita — while guy B awkwardly fucks me from behind, banging the shit out of his shins on the car door frame but too drunk and horny to care. And when that passing car gives B the shakes, we’ll obviously elect to pile into one car and head over to B’s place where I’ll spend the rest of the night swallowing cum and getting my ass plowed. I’ll think in my head at the time that I shouldn’t let them go ass to mouth, but of course I’m going to anyway. “Holy shit, this girl is a freak,” they’ll say.
The slutty reality in the fantasy
Anyway, the point is my brain (and sometimes my body, though not nearly as much as my brain) goes to some really slutty places when I’m inspired. For me, the inspiration often comes from something in my day-to-day. I’ve found when you pay attention to the nuance the world is packed full of opportunity, and the slightest change in inflection on a word can make the difference between going about my day or spending 3 hours edging. For me just seeing the hot guy (or girl) is not enough. I need to catch them eyeing me up and down, or hear that hint of lust in their voice to get excited.
Things aren’t too much different for me when it comes to porn. There has to be a scenario, and it has to be rooted in a coherent reality… Otherwise all I see are blobs of flesh moving on a screen. Basically I need verisimilitude to get off. A 20-second gif of raw fucking on Tumblr is nothing to me without a caption or a story already playing in my head. And because I’m never going to try and convince the hot pizza guy ringing my doorbell to have sex with me, my pussy is never going to get wet watching porn with lazy setups like that. On the other hand, if the pizza guy were to deliver my pizza, refuse to leave because I didn’t throw myself at him, get into an argument with me about it, then eventually force his way into my home, wrestle me down onto the floor, and then ravage me while the pizza got cold… Then okay, I’m on board.
It’s not sex, it’s porn
The Dude: Your sexual fantasies seem to be a lot about self-insertion. You are center to your own sexual imagination. For me, it’s never been like that. One thing that all my porn consumption has in common is that it strives toward a certain aesthetic ideal. And then if it gets nastier past vanilla sex, that’s even better. But at the core of it stand women you just don’t meet on your average day out.
In order for me to get excited about erotica, that erotica has to be removed from the real world. The mundane is what undercuts erotic value, which is obviously not an issue for someone to whom self-insertion is the prime erotic drive. After all, we live in a mundane world.
Here’s a good way to show what I mean. If you know my work, you know I’ve got a very defined visual style. It’s a style that I obviously draw from my own tastes, but another large part of it comes from places like Instagram. And as anyone who has spent more than two seconds on the internet knows, Instagram has no shortage of teasing sluts with millions of followers. And those teasing sluts believe in something that I also believe in: the power of fantasy.
When Abigail Ratchford posts a shot of her and her girlfriends dressing up in cute lingerie together, my mind goes places. What are they doing when the cameras are off? What are they doing when the cameras are on, actually, that isn’t even allowed to be posted on Instagram? Surely they’re engaged in all sorts of amazing all-girl orgies. Surely these girls have a degree of unleashed sexuality that they apply to each other because, well… why wouldn’t they? Straight, lesbian, maybe those words don’t even mean anything to them. They’re hedonists. They believe in pleasuring each other. They have sex because they owe it to themselves and human sexuality as a whole to apply the gifts they’ve been given.
That’s how I choose to fill in the image they’re selling.
From where I stand, as a male porn consumer, nothing’s a more powerful pornographic experience than that. To take something that you rationally know probably isn’t happening, but which you really wish did. To connect to that, and to make you believe that it actually does. And what if you had the chance to look in? You have world class girls doing things to each other beyond imagination. In the case of 3DX, add a few dickgirls and the picture is complete!
The hottest woman vs the hottest sex
Marie: So when you’re rubbing one out later, the cute girl smiling at you on the bus has no chance against the Instagram girls you’ll never meet?
The Dude: The cute girl on the bus isn’t competing with the Instagram models for erotic value. The cute girl on the bus is a real person that I could get to know so obviously the entire endgame there is different. Isn’t the thing we always say about porn that it’s not supposed to be real? It’s just supposed to be hot. The real difference between the Instagirls and the real life cute girl is that for pornographic, erotic value, the former are a lot closer to an aesthetic ideal. I want my porn to reflect what I think is the hottest possible woman. You want your porn to take you, in your mind, to what you think is the hottest possible sex you could have. The self-insertion thing — it’s much more visceral.
Marie: Yeah, that sounds about right. I’ve had sex with all sorts: hot guys, average guys, ugly, jacked, skinny, fat, young, and old. The hotter guys did offer objectively better feeling sex (just cause fit guys have way more strength and stamina to utilize) but the best sex isn’t all about the physical feeling. For me the best sex is just as fantastic as your glam babes, but it’s the action that’s fantastic. When I get double teamed by a couple friends, or picked up and literally used like a Fleshlight, it’s not amazing sex because it feels amazing (though it often is). For me, the hottest sex is exactly that because you’re getting picked up and tossed around like a porn star… And what is a porn star, if not a pure sexual being? It is mind-numbingly, debilitatingly hot to become that. To hear yourself gag on a cock like a girl out of a Kink.com shoot, or catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror with mascara and cum all down your face like Sasha Grey? It’s insane how charged and excited you become when that happens. You can touch your clit and in 10-seconds you’re coming, and then four minutes later you’re coming again. So yes, a lot of my fantasy is transporting myself into the state of that singularly sexual creature and letting it take over, which is why whenever I catch some hint of it in my daily life my brain goes off a cliff.
Perspective in porn
The Dude: Aha! So here’s the kicker: that’s an exclusively female experience. Actually, gay men or transwomen might feel the same way too since they are also the focus of attention in porn. But straight men are not. The only way to be like Johnny Sins is to have a cock the size of the Empire State Building and to fuck loads of porn stars. That’s two-for-nothing as far as most dudes go. So when you look at yourself in the mirror with a girl on your dick, you don’t think of yourself as that super hot porn star. You think about how hot she looks. How great it feels. How lucky you are, if she’s exceptionally good looking or you’re really into her for other reasons. There’s no self-insertion fantasy for men in porn because by and large, men are supposed to be invisible in porn. Even if they’re fully on camera, they’re usually out of focus.
I think in the end what we understand to be pornographic is simply the result of how our brains are wired. Hot girls like you want to fulfill that role. You project sexuality onto yourselves. As men, we project sexuality onto others: girls we want to fuck, places we want to fuck at. It’s only about ourselves insofar as we are the ones experiencing it. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m also speaking too much from my own experience. I certainly can’t pretend to speak for all men. So maybe this is something for the readers to chime in on. At its core, for you, is porn about the sexualization of others or the sexualization of yourself?
This article was originally published under the title “Fantasy in reality vs glamorous lesbians.”