Stay Puft & Humbled: Homemade Suburban Porn - the Cure for Masterbation

One night in Suburbia

I’ll address a few potential concerns before I start, first off, my Ex knows that I’m writing this and was a willing participant in the subject at hand. Second of all, she reads my inane babble and is dutifully aware of my intentions. Thank you.

Check off another lofty life goal for this city dwelling people eater, my great white ass is forever preserved in the annals of amateur pornography and I’ve never felt better or worse about myself as a result. In what could be considered the Howard the Duck of self styled pornography, this Cannibal and his achingly attractive gal pal in remission spent the better part of Friday night with the unblinking and dare I say incredibly unflattering eye of the video camera watching us perform our time tested bed beating routine. Conceived long before we decided to take our relationship out back and drown it in diesel and doll parts, the old flame still made good on her promise of perversion and since we both longed for the production - why wouldn’t she participate? She looked utterly fantastic, like a pair of alluring silk panties draped over a tapped keg. Then I show up in the shot and it’s like she’s getting man handled by the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.

We had (have) several film projects on the burner, but this one I thought might be fun to do first since, well, she was moving out on me in two days anyway, looked really foxy and we both knew the “script”, no time like the present. We had been talking about it for weeks and the project was becoming more and more of a Hindenburg on the horizon, with nothing but obstacles littering the landscape until the night itself arrived and everything – ahem – inflated accordingly. A few pints and a burger later, we were in the sack with the camera rolling (took some incredible still shots as well) and I was on top of the world (if she doesn’t mind being called that), until I saw the footage later.

A Humbling experience to be sure, seeing yourself in the third person, engaged in the sex act with a beautiful woman - there was physically nothing arousing about watching me paw this poor little kitten (save for the kitten herself) and one wonders why she’d even subjected herself to my “man-thing” even before the notion of recording it. From the new vantage point it was most certainly an event; seeing our tattoos catch the warm glow from the lamplight, our quiet whispers barely audible above the faint slap of our skin colliding or the devils hieroglyphics inscribed in the lace of her stocking tops. She was so gorgeous – “come back to bed” she purred while I got up to move the camera to accommodate our next position. It melts me every time I see it or even think abou tit (hee hee - happy accident); up on all fours, pursuing me to the end of the bed - the most beautiful smile you’ll ever see (yes, her REAL smile - perverts). Then there was me, every guy likes to think that he’s Dirk Diggler in the denim department, but when you see it on TV it’s a different story (and I have a BIG fucking Widescreen TV). Fuck. Every woman who told me that it’s “pretty big” is a fucking liar. I’m built like a Smurf house! I make jokes, “I have the French curse – big nose, little hose”, I had no idea that it was quite possibly true, no wonder my bedmates past find the joke so bloody amusing.

We shot for about an hour; catching different angles from our repertoire (one of which was a Hobbits eye view of my scrotum, quite a hideous contraption - I should join Puppetry of the Penis), getting master shots and such and then I got a little carried away and “lost” my concentration. Take two occurred a few hours later.

Had I known that making this movie would not only preserve us in our sexual environment but also draw us closer together, I would’ve shot it months ago. “I had a really great night” she said the next morning as she prepared to pack up her things and leave my sorry ass, “me too”. But it was all too late. On the bright side, she wants to make more porn with me, and far be it from me to dissuade a stone fox from enjoying a Cannibal Brand noodle whipping for the cameras. Sign me up.

I have an assignment for you, set up your digital camera – still or video – and take a few pictures of yourself completely naked. It’s haunting… and not in a good way, no matter how hot you are. I guarentee that you will never look at yourself the same way again - quite possibly the cure for masterbation.

Peter North, Ron Jeremy and John Holmes? You have nothing to worry about, fellas.

iPod played “Duran Duran – Girls on Film” while posting