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There I was, holding a tall stack of books with titles like "How To Have an Orgasm" and "Hot Monogamy." Across the aisle, the older gentleman I'd recently met at a seminar saw me. He had been in the children's section, which was mysteriously placed adjacent to the sexuality and self-help books. As he and his son came over to say hello, I quickly hugged the books to my chest, hoping that my skinny arms would hide the embarrassing titles. We chatted briefly, and neither of us acknowledged the books slowly sliding out of my clutches. I hiked them up a few inches as inconspicuously as possible.
As he walked away, I breathed a sigh of relief and glanced down - there, in bright pink letters, unmistakable and easily read at half a block's distance - Porn-o-pho-bic. Awesome. He totally didn't notice that at all.
I have quite the collection of women's sexuality titles. I've bought everything from self-help to erotica, but I didn't have any porn, and to be honest I was a little afraid of it. Every experience with sexual dysfunction is different, and ranges from the medical to the emotional. For me there's a whole lot of shame and embarrassment bundled up in my dysfunction, and the idea of porn just seemed a little too intense. I'm trying to get over that shame, so when I saw Ayn Carrillo-Gailey's book "Pornology" I had to buy it.
It was my first foray into the world of porn. (Okay, it was actually someone else's foray into the world of porn, but that's a minor detail.) While my sister had been getting grounded for reading Playboy behind the house with the neighbour kids, I'd been cooped up inside dealing with depression and a serious case of outcast-itis. My sexuality developed in a bubble of isolation, misinformation, and some serious self-image problems. Although I couldn't relate to Carrillo-Gailey's light and breezy approach to sexuality, I loved reading about it. It was the first time I seriously thought about watching a porno.
Months later, I was engaging in a little retail therapy at Babeland, and noticed the Porn Starter Kit in their gift section. A book, two DVDs... how could I go wrong? Hadn't I been waiting for just this opportunity?
I clicked "Add to Cart" and waited for my package to arrive.
When it did arrive, I almost threw a DVD in the player right away. I was nervous, excited, a little scared. What if I hated it? What if I loved it? What if it turned me on? What if it didn't? It could prove that I am totally normal, or it could prove that I'm some kind of frigid freak, totally incapable of arousal. The pressure was too much. I put the DVD under my nightstand and decided to read the book instead.
I skipped ahead to the chapter "I was a porn virgin." I am a porn virgin, I thought. This is the chapter for me. One of the mandates was that prior to watching my first porn, I should get to know myself a bit. Grab a mirror, explore my girly bits, feel around for what feels good and what doesn't.
Here's where I have to make a confession.
I don't know how to masturbate.
I know where my clit is. I think masturbation is awesome (for other people) and I definitely don't think it's dirty. I just don't like to touch myself. Touching myself feels weird. Touching myself sexually feels... vulnerable. It's silly because, what am I going to do? Dump myself if I go to third base? But I'm way more comfortable with a vibrator rather than my hands, and I'd prefer to leave the mirrors on the wall where they belong. Nobody needs to know what's going on down there. It's best left under the covers.
So I skipped that bit of advice.
I decided I'd watch my first porn on my next day off. I could handle it. How bad could it be? Lots of people don't like porn. If it didn't turn me on, all that would mean is that I don't like porn. And if I did like it, well, that would be great. Another tool in the toolbox, as it were.
The big day arrived.
