A lifetime of porn

I must have been about 12 years old when my best friend showed me his dad’s stack of straight hardcore porn magazines. His dad was a gardener for the city council and claimed to keep finding them left abandoned in the parks. It always surprised me that the magazines seemed to be pristine, but I never questioned it. 

My friend was a year older than me and we learnt masturbation together. He once told me: ‘a guy at shool has said that if I keep rubbing my cock I would get milk out’…. I could not believe it, so we tried. We would then stand wanking in front of each other, taking it super-seriously: more like a workout than looking for any pleasure. His body was more evolved than mine. He already had pubes and a pretty nice cock and balls. I still looked like a boy, he looked like a man. After intense serious rubbing he would have that precious milk coming out. Myself, I would only get a build up of pee and would have to end up going to the toilet.

Over time the wanks became more exciting with the introduction of the porn magazines. On a Tuesday his mum was not at home for half an hour, I would tell my parents that I was going to do some homework with my friend. As soon as I got to his place we would drop our pants down, get a magazine out and start wanking. I remember my favourite scene: a young straight couple go to a restaurant, she has a smart long dress and the guy is wearing a suit. They sit down and the waiter takes an order. The waiter leaves to get the drinks, she then starts playing with her partners’ bulge, massaging it with her feet under the table. Guy gets stiff, guy’s cock is out, and next the woman is on all fours under the table giving him a blowjob and surprisingly the skirt now is lifted and she has no knickers!. Waiter comes and of course drops his trousers down and starts fucking her. Now I am fascinated: I have two cocks in the same picture, also my friend’s wanking his lovely cock in front of me. Porn to me was heaven in a half an hour slot.

PORN BECAME THE PERFECT ESCAPE ROUTE

My early teens were pretty stressful: constantly bullied at school, inhabiting a body I hated, I felt weak and I was convinced I would be trapped in a mediocre life for the rest of my existence. 

Those were the early 80s, full of ‘excess’ and ‘shoulder pads’. My dreams were to become rich and powerful to be able to do anything I wanted -that probably came from watching too much Dynasty-. Television was the perfect escape. I would watch anything to anesthetise that feeling that I did not fit in. People my own age terrified me. Escapism made me feel safe. 

My good friend found some new friends and stopped ‘playing’ with me. I was on my own. I focused on school and became a top student, this was my way to protect myself from the bullying. Studying made me feel I was somebody. I hardly had any friends, so I would come home do the homework and then watch tele. I also managed to get hold of some porn magazines and I would wank at any opportunity I could. Wanking became another way to escape my pain.

Video arrived and with that my secret visits to the video shop to rent hardcore movies. In Spain at the time, nobody questioned anything, I must have been now 16 years old. On a Friday evening I was alone at home for 2 hours. I would time it with military precision: my visit to the video shop, watching a 90 mins movie first mostly fast forward, identifying all the scenes that I knew I would like, and then jumping between then. Some of the porn movies were ‘bi’ -nothing gay- so I used to hire those. I was not even OUT to myself at the time, but no wonder why the ‘bi’ movies felt so attractive.

Porn brought me so much joy. I was secretly waiting for that Friday evening to arrive to have my wanking time. It was special, rushed but special. My wanking rituals started to become a bit more  ‘kinky’: I had stolen my older brother’s tight jeans, smoking and drinking beer made me feel more ‘macho’, using leather…. I developed a series of fetishes that would enhance my self-pleasure sessions. Then quickly return the movie to the shop, clear all the mess and my parents would find me sitting on my bedroom working on my computer by the time they would come back. 

PORN, SHAME AND GUILT

Through adulthood my consumption of porn was  hardly ever discussed with partners. Porn remained a kind of personal secret. A part of me felt shame of continuing consuming porn as an adult. A voice in my head would often say: ‘common you are behaving like if you still are 16!!’. The guilt would particularly kick in if I got hooked on the internet, and suddenly it was 2 am and I was still surfing to seek for another hunk to watch.

There would be times that I would feel porn was really bad for me: there was the ‘lost’ of sleep, but also I started to be aware that often porn was a tool to validate what a ‘failure’ of an individual I was. 

In my late twenties I had periods in which I suffered from premature ejaculation. At the time I was convinced that I was dysfunctional in sex. I would often wank to porn and last 1 minute. That wank to me was the proof of ‘my failure’. My failure to be a proper man, my proof that I was inadequate and that I would always be a rubbish lover.

Watching the guys in the porn films will also reinforce more of everything that I was not: massive cocks, amazing stamina in bed, great bodies. Those guys made me feel small. I could never be one of them. My confirmation that I was still the same ‘mediocre’ guy that I was in my teens.

PORN: LIGHTS AND SHADOWS

I am now in my mid forties. I still watch porn pretty regularly. Sometimes too much, and then can be weeks that I hardly touch it.

I accept that I love porn and I am not ashamed of it. I have managed to bring a sense of intimacy and consciousness. So rather than the 30 mins fast forward quick wank, I try to turn my time on the screen into a planned ritual. It is a ritual of self love. I am often seated on a chair, plenty of lube. I try to use only my non dominating hand to masturbate: this helps me to slow down and be more present. I spend time searching for a scene  that calls my attention, I keep pausing, breathing, I keep an intention of moving that sexual energy through all my body and then carry on. I try to leave at least 30 mins of self pleasuring with a screen. I try not to cum. Maybe I return to the screen sometime later that day. I view these sessions as an effective way to make myself horny, be playful with myself and build up sexual energy through the week.

I also have other self-pleasure rituals, often longer, that do not include a screen. Those times I tend to lie on my back or sit in a meditation position. I combine massage to all my body with meditation, visualisations and genital touch. Those go for much longer than my screen bursts, but I can feel the  build up of the energy that I have been collecting from the previous shorter porn wanks.

In all honesty I keep constantly questioning if porn is good for me or not. There is an edge in porn that makes me more ‘greedy’, a greediness that can easily transform in dissatisfaction. However I like it too much that I keep going back to it. One of the things now I am very aware is that I have to be careful with the porn that I consume, as it can easily travel into the unconscious mind and yes, once again, make me feel ‘inadequate’.

Even that I can sometimes get lost in it, I try to keep a clear intention and consciousness every time I engage with porn. I love watching porn, however I also love drinking coffee and I know how easy is to take too much. I keep telling myself that coffee is not great for you, and the sensible thing would be to stop it. My relationship with porn is not so dissimilar. At the moment, it is what it is: grateful for the good times and careful of its shadow side.