The Call of the Camcorder

You know, I’ve never really wanted to record myself having sex. A lot of people ask me, when they find out I write about porn and sex, if I’d ever do porn myself. Or if I have done it and am denying it. And the honest answer to both these questions is “no.” Having watched as much smut as I have, and understanding my insecurities about my spindly arms, deformed wrists, jiggly butt, and asymmetrical face, I think subjecting myself or anyone else to watching me flail around and make strange mouth movements during the act would be unpleasant, if not downright cruel. And, performer though I may be in some ways, comfortable in front of an audience or a karaoke bar, I’ve never been able to stand the sight or sound of myself on playback. I can’t even watch any of the video interviews I’ve done for WHACK! no matter how much I like the questions I asked or the person I was talking to. The sound of my voice and the weird faces I make when talking, which YouTube always seems to capture in its still frame, make me all fidgety to think that I could really look or sound like that. It makes me question if I should ever to go out in public again.

So, no, porn is not a career choice for me. Nor is letting anyone take video of me having sex, even for private use. Absolutely no way.

But sometimes when I’m watching porn, like last night as I was reviewing Boundaries #7 from Triangle Films (the review will be up on WHACK! tomorrow–and by the way, my interview with Madison Montag is up today! check it out!), I start to wonder… When I’m with a woman, do we sound like those women? Do we scream and moan and pant as much? Are these women quieter or louder, more or less demonstrative? Do I move my hips like that? And when I’m with a man, I wonder if, from his point of view, my face looks contorted. I wonder how comparatively sexy the top of my head looks. I wonder… And I start to think maybe I SHOULD set up my camera one of these days, just to see…

But then I realize that it’s entirely likely I’d be so traumatized by the unglamorous reality of what I sound and look and move like during the act that it would take months to feel sexy again. And I let it go.

Any of you ever toy with this idea, or give in to temptation? I’d love to hear your stories…

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