Three Zero Four: Balconies

 I still have my crushes, even at my own advanced age. 

Last time I spoke about Kenna James and Kristin Scott and the crushes I've developed on the two of them from watching their interviews on YouTube as much as their video clips on PornHub. 

Right now I'm listening to Duran Duran do "Come Undone", which seems like a lovely song to listen to on an October night while you're thinking about crushes on distant girls.

Every crush has its speculative side, of course. You sit at night with a drink and you wonder how the crush would play out in real life. How would you meet? How would you interact? How would you make the transition to flirtation and seduction? What would you say afterwards?

Somehow my visions of all that always involve balconies. Somehow the initial meeting is random enough. Usually we turn out to be neighbors whose apartments had adjoining balconies, and we end up talking to one another in the afternoons. Eventually one of my crushes will come next door and we'll get used to spending time on my balcony with tea or a glass of wine. We'll...talk. It always comes down to talking. She--- Kenna or Kristin ---will tell me that I should be in a good mood, that an actual porn star is knocking on my door to come hang out. And we'll laugh about that. 

There are apologies involved, of course.  When in my visions there is flirtation and kissing involved, I'm usually apologizing for my age and my looks. There's no way around that. In real life, I'd be doing exactly that. What I can't decide is whether either girl would be amused or a bit exasperated by my apologies. I'd like to think that the girl would put a finger to my lips and tell me to hush, that she'd made a decision and was well aware of my age and looks and wasn't really bothered by either. 

I'd like to believe that could happen. In my own life here these last few years, I've had girls tell me that there was nothing wrong with me. I've never believed them, but I have been grateful to them for saying that.  

I've always said that the two hardest genres to write in are biography and erotica.  To do biography well, you have to know not just your subject but the whole world around him, the world that produced him. And erotica...? Well, you have to know how to present a set of fantasies that don't devolve into either slapstick or obvious narcissistic wish-fulfillment. That last part worries me. The best I can do is imagine that the girl chose me because the things I said were interesting or that she had her own wishes and fantasies and just found me...potentially useful. I still have to parse out what "useful" might mean. Ambiguous and dangerous word, really.

My fear with either Kristin or Kenna wouldn't necessarily be fear of systems failure, fear of performance. It would be fear of trying to talk to either girl and making a fool of myself. I'd like to think that I can carry on a conversation, that I have things to say. Having that come crashing down would be far worse than systems failure.

Three Zero Three: Crushing

 Here in the time of the Red Death,  so much of erotic life has been restricted to the web. I haven't been doing cam experiences or FaceTiming with lovely Young Companions. Life, alas, doesn't work like that.

But I have been listlessly sitting up at night looking at clips on PornHub and its kindred. I feel almost ashamed of that. I'm not one to spend time looking at online porn. The implication of indulging in the Solitary Vice does make me ashamed. The Solitary Vice is not something males can engage in without being held up to mockery. Autoerotic adventures are for women only. 

I'm not bitter about that, really. I understand the politics of self-pleasure, There's a large industry out there over the aether devoted to empowering women sexually, to allowing them to find pleasure on their own terms. Those are good things. But I do have to sigh and note that there's nothing like Good Vibrations or its kindred boutiques for men. Self-pleasure for men is regarded as creepy, pathetic, and aesthetically displeasing. I've said it before here--- once you've heard the word "wank" you can't really be male (or maybe only straight male) and indulge in the Solitary Vice without feeling ashamed and sad.

Nonetheless, I do sit at my work desk and search out PornHub clips. I'm impressed with how niche some of the clips are, and even more impressed with the sheer numbers of things even the most arcane search terms bring up. It probably took less than a month before there were scores of Covid-19 porn videos, with masked scene partners and storylines about Red Death quarantine bringing the most disparate and unlikely couples together (lots of step-siblings, a surprising number of Hot MILF and stepdaughter clips). I'm socially aware enough to wear a mask every day if I go into stores or shops or amongst crowds, but I do have to wonder what sex in a mask would be like. I'd probably start gasping for breath early on, alas.

I have found porn actresses to crush on. However not? I discovered a lovely long-legged blonde who calls herself Kenna James and a petite garconne who calls herself Kristin Scott. They've done a couple of scenes with each other, including some non-sex scenes in a story-driven  coming-out film called "Teenage Lesbian". Both very lovely, both very hot. 

My crushes on both are sexual, of course, but I think that it's their interviews that have fed the crushes. Both have several interviews on YouTube about their lives and careers, and they each have very good long interviews on Holly Randall's podcast. Ms. Randall, by the way, is the daughter of Suze Randall, one of the great glamour photographers (and female porn directors) of the Seventies and Eighties.  Both Ms. James and Ms. Scott are clever, funny, thoughtful, and well-spoken. So my usual track is to look for scenes each has done on PornHub and then see what interviews I  can find at YouTube. 

I do like it that porn actresses are giving interviews.  I like the idea of hearing about their lives in their own voices.  It says something about me that any fantasies I've ever constructed in my head about either Kristin Scott or Kenna James are largely about flirtations and conversations, They're both very lovely girls, and I expect that they'd be good--- adventurous, experimental, kind, open ---in bed...even with a male partner. Maybe--- maybe ---even with an older male partner. Still, now...all my fantasies begin with conversations and explanations by both me and a potential partner. 

I can't imagine sex without talking. I can't imagine sex that doesn't happen in the head long before it happens in the flesh.  I can't imagine sex that isn't about telling stories, about creating stories with a partner.