on boys and pornography.
To carry forward the theme of less-than-ideal client experiences, I can mention another as a segue. I was asked to visit a notoriously awful client by a booker who knew the challenge would interest me – my rate was raised to off-set the hassle I expected to enjoy. This client had a reputation for sparring inappropriately and creating what, for many women, was a psychologically unnerving dynamic.
He had me shipped in by car service to his enormous home in Stepford-creepy Greenwich. He gave me a lengthy tour, and then we settled in his ‘tv room,’ a large space furnished with a few sofas and dominated by a massive plasma. The sparring commenced.
As an aside, I should mention that anytime I’m with a client who wants to, um, ‘take me down a notch,’ it screams insecurity. That’s simply because I’m there by request. I pose no discernible threat. So if I arrive and the client wants to fight, I can only assume that this is because he’s deathly afraid of women and would be much better served by a therapist. Or a dominatrix.
In this case, he was at me guns blazing, and taking particular aim at the various ruptures in my moral fiber. I redirected the conversation to his enormous plasma and asked if it were used for watching sports or pornography. Pornography, he said. And then I said something off-hand without thinking, something I shouldn’t have said because, apparently, it was the verbal equivalent of kicking the man in the crotch. I said, “I can always tell when I’m with someone who watches too much porn.”
He suddenly changed tone and then fell silent. It hadn’t been an attack and I didn’t mean to imply judgment – I was just thinking aloud, and very absent-mindedly mentioned what I believed to be true, that men who watch a lot of porn, particularly young men who were largely raised on pornography, are different in bed. They’re more likely to feel absent and mechanical. They imitate sexual positions that are less about fucking and more about being visually accessible. And they want to come on a girl’s face. If you say, “Can I come on your face?” or if you try to come on my face, I’ll assume you’ve watched a great deal of porn in your life.
I’ll qualify that by saying two things: one, being steeped in porn isn’t necessarily bad. And two, I know at least one case where I’m wrong.
I’ll explain what I mean by this in a bit. For now, I need caffeine.
THIS is why I don’t own a TV.
Besides, who needs porn when Victoria’s Secret sends me a catalog every friggin’ week.
who needs porn, when you have debauchette?
I’m very curious to read the next part of this thread.
Tacitly, I want to say I first discovered pornography when I was ten years old and was given free reign to explore the Internet. Since then, I do see certain and undeniable ways in which my exposure to pornography has affected my sexual development and it has definitely impacted how I have sex today. I have, of course, seen a lot of visual porn. I have still never, however, paid for any of it, which is—apparently—an unusual thing for a man to be able to say these days.
Of course, I’m not sure how tacit that was, and so I’ll qualify that by saying that I don’t think the exchange of sexual goods or services for some kind of other (including monetary) currency is necessarily bad.
By the way, Axe, I don’t have a TV either. I watch all my porn on my computer. :)
In my experience, men who are compulsive pornophiles tend to have erectile difficulties when confronted, in the flesh, with a real woman. Just sayin’.