What is pornography? Yes, today you may rightly say that this is an industry, and quite a very lucrative one. But I’m talking here about the meaning of the noun “erotica,” or its synonymous “pornography.” Wiki tells us that “Pornography or porn is the portrayal of explicit sexual subject matter for the purposes of sexual arousal and erotic satisfaction.”
Further on comes the clarifying text: “A distinction is often made between erotica (the portrayal of sexuality with high-art aspirations, focusing also on feelings and emotions) and pornography (the depiction of acts in a sensational manner, with the entire focus on the physical act, so as to arouse quick intense reactions).”
“Erotica (from the Greek eros–“desire”) are works of art, including literature, photography, film, sculpture and painting, that deal substantively with erotically stimulating or sexually arousing descriptions. The term is a modern word that describes the portrayal of the human anatomy and sexuality with high-art aspirations, differentiating such work from commercial pornography. Curiosa generally refers to erotica and pornography as discrete, collectible items, usually in published or printed form.”
The accuracy of these definitions, and differentiations, makes me wonder if I was wrong when I coined the term “romantic porn” for what we’re doing at home in front of the camera. Well, most likely I was wrong!
A no-brainer since I had this epiphany during a waving orgasmic state of mind. With Don asking me how should I think about myself for doing porn movies but only with him. Since I’m “his exclusive one-penis-woman,” he said, I can’t qualify as a porn star… Indulge with me please while we’re delving through the obscure tunnels of a man’s mind.
When he makes love to me, his reasoning is flooded with endorphins and weird imagery takes over his consciousness. And (as the tell-what-you-feel type of hubby he is) I am there to listen all the scary stuff he’s serving to my ears.
One theme he repeatedly brought in bed was that I’m his “personal porn star,” his “unique stripper,” his “sole slut,” and… you get it. Yes, I figured it out from the very beginning — when he charmed me with his vivid speeches — that it’s a mouthful listening to him, even in bed. This is why I answered him that we’re shooting “romantic porn” movies. Because I felt romantic!
What can be more romantic than sensing his warm looks cuddling me? And further hearing how his compliments abundantly walk in the steps of his looks. And how could I describe my position (openly embraced and vigorously fixed) in front of his camera sitting on the TV table across the room?
I had to also admit the moment of porn. But the continuous state of romance never left me to feel ridiculous, or used, or unhappy. To sum it up, that instance of obscenity was as romantic as our breakfasts together, as our cuddling and whispering, as our summer evening dates (wish these were more frequent). However, now I realize that porn can’t be romantic, at least according to the aforementioned definitions and distinctions.
To be continued…
A vintage film filter was applied over this nude profile picture.