Thursday, May 14, 2009

Woodsmen and Cougars

Like most men, I once habored a desire to be a porn stud. I have since disabused myself of the notion for the usual reasons:
  • I cling to an utterly unrealistic hope of running for Congress someday. A porn past might be a wee bit detrimental.
  • The real fact that my mother is still alive and knows how to use Google.
  • The equally real possibility that my future children will be just as net savvy and porn hungry as their old man and will be able to recognize a 20-something version of their father if not by looks then by his birthmarks, piercings and tattoos.
  • Everything will be on HD soon; there can be no denying it's you.

It's a hard life anyway. You get paid shit. You can't pick your partners; a dude with a Yes or No List is laughable. You have to be able to cum on command. If there's another guy in the scene you will inevitably touch dicks. And that's nothing because unless you're a superstar, if you want to make money in the business you definitely will have to go "gay for pay."

Still the thought comes into my head, though I'll never act on it. Sometimes, when I'm with someone I love, or more likely someone I just met but feel tenderly for regardless, and I find I have trouble achieving orgasm due to too much alcohol and anxiety, I like to pretend I'm on a set, under many bright lights with two cameras pointed at me and I'm fucking a girl who's body of work I admire but franky just met two hours earlier. I image that the directer has given me the green light to blow my load.

It almost always works. I don't know if that speaks profoundly about me or the times we live in. Probably both.

This I hope should serve as a springboard for the two things on my mind today: Today's woodsmen -- who are, let's face it, my age or younger -- and Milf/Cougar porn bringing past legends back into the spotlight.

The way I see it, unless these guys are all-out gay, they share a porn past with me. They probably spent their adolescence sneaking copies of Cherie, Club, Penthouse, High Society; watching scrambled porn; sending away for copies of the Adam & Eve catalog. I imagine that a 25 year old porn stud, like me has spent a considerable amount of his formative years beating off to Rayveness, Janine, Debi Diamond, Kylie Ireland, Jill Kelley, Teri Weigel, Julia Ann to name a few. I imagine that boy growing up and ten years later finding himself on a porno set about to actually bed down one of his early fantasies. How unreal would that be? Would it be akin to being called up to the majors with your first at bat facing Roger Clemens (Yes, I compared sex with a porn star to baseball)? Or would the routine of doing this regularly set in and it be just another job?

I wonder if there have been any starstuck moments. Maybe a geeked out dude fumbling for a pen and pad to get Nina Hartley's autograph. Does he brag about it to his friends afterwards?

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