My body heats with a layer of sticky sweat. I just want him. My eyes tighten closed, and I imagine his hands raking the bareness of my back, spindling up my hips towards my shoulders…
I need someone to take me in their arms, to rub their palms over all the aching parts, to knead my breast and suck my neck, to make this tension explode into a high. I crave it so badly that I end up biting my fingernails to the beds, turning on my side and staring at the wall, wondering if I should go find something to ease this into a nice, blissful release.
No.
I lick my lips and shudder, my body shaking as I prolong what it wants. Or maybe, it’s just my brain playing tricks on me. Maybe it’s all in my mind.
I inhale a deep breath and rise against my oak headboard. I find the remote on the end table and click on the flat screen television above my dresser. It swamps the wall, looking futuristic among my white canopied, king-sized bed and red velveteen chaise. Rose decorated my room, and I have to admit, she did a pretty good job with the pop art and the black checkered pillows. I could do without the canopy. One night, I rolled into it like a tortilla and started moronically swatting at it.
I click through the On Demand channels and peruse the nightly specials, landing on an X-rated film where a professor seduces a student. So cliché, but it’ll most definitely make me hot and bothered. I just hope that it helps me find the release I’m looking for.
I fast-forward the beginning where the girl usually just gives head. Normally, blow jobs in porn don’t turn me on…unless the guy does something sweet like hold her hair back and tell her she’s beautiful giving it. But I’ve seen too many scenes where the guy jackhammers the thing down her throat. Being choked by cock does nothing for me.
I reach the middle of the film, and the professor spreads the girl across his desk. He wears vintage framed glasses and a white button-down. His pants are already off and he quickly charges into her without any other foreplay. She lets out a frighteningly loud scream and then her moans start. “Mmmmmmmyeah. Like that…yeaaahhh.” She massages her own large breast while he thrusts hard. I can tell she’s faking it, and maybe horny guys don’t care—but I do. Her noises heighten and I realize that her orgasms are making me cringe. Not all porn is created equal.
I exit out and order another film.
Wanting to be surprised, I skim the description and barely glance at the title. This time I fast-forward again and quickly discern what type of category the film falls into.
The girl is draped over a bench in a locker room while the guy spanks her bare ass. It’s either submission or bondage or maybe a bit of both. I sink into my bed, silently hoping this girl doesn’t scream like a hyena.
She lets out a small yelp when the guy pushes inside of her. His thrusts are hard and rough and she clutches to the lockers for support. He grabs at her body and lets out a series of carnal grunts. After only a couple minutes she says, “Please make me come, sir. Please.”
Usually this does it for me. But I feel nothing. Not even turned off. I’m just…empty.
I mute the video and debate about purchasing another, but I’m not even sure a film with my favorite porn stars will help. This seems silly when all I want is Loren Hale. Visual stimulation doesn’t cure the craving for my boyfriend.
Tonight’s miserable experience suddenly triggers a recent memory with Lo—when he was sober for a very short period of time. I pause the film and wipe my eyes.
Lo plopped on my bed in our Philly apartment while I fired up my porn. I’d asked him if he wanted to watch a video with me, thinking it might be different now that he was sober. He had looked at me with crinkled eyebrows and a crooked grin before shrugging and following me into my room.
On the screen, a girl-next-door blonde rested in the jail cell, and a young, sexy cop entered, scanning her body with a lustful gaze.
“Why is she even there?” Lo asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I rested my head on his hard chest, my heart beating wildly at the thought of what might happen next between us. I wanted him to take me just as the cop would take the girl.
“I think she was mistakenly jailed for soliciting or something, and this cop is going to question her about it. But really she’s going to have sex so he’ll let her go.”
Lo’s brow arched. “I see.”
I swallowed hard, wondering if he was analyzing what I wanted. He rarely watched porn with me. Whenever I put one on, I made it a private event, but with Lo there, the anticipation was enough to prick my nerves and tighten my insides.