Erotica, the Naked Romance

This is Part 2 of “Let’s Call It Erotica, Shall We?

Sure, I’m not the only one having romantic moments of porn. Hubby took care to show me some other one-penis-gals filming their naked romance. But yesterday I read on the Wikipedia that pornography seeks the “sensational” and is focused only on the “physical act” while ignoring “emotions and feelings.” Well dear, this made my mind up. I’m not doing porn. No!

First of all, there’s nothing sensational in what I’m doing (other than feeling dang good in my skin). Then the nudity and the physical acting that I give out are not professionally perfected, senselessly studied, well-done-job kind of things. Not at all. It’s exactly the opposite.

Because of so many feelings and emotions, because of our vibrating romance, we’re freeing it out in so many casual and natural forms, which eventually include nudity and the mentioned physical act! We do this on a whim, to relax and catch up with one another. To stay connected!

During his cerebral moments (which are naturally more numerous than the sexual ones) he says that I’m his muse. I inspire his joy for creativity when he writes or paints (all with a computer, mind you; he’s a paperless person, as I’m reminded to specify).

“And what inspiration do you get from me when coding?” I once asked. “Nothing.” He put it plainly. “It’s a too abstract land for curved imagery to enter, but while in there I am inspired by remembering your nice words and swift takes on life. You’re teaching me how to think simple, to avoid the overhead.”

So he believes that I’m musing him even on a territory that’s a perfect stranger to me. Think that he’s in love with my voice. I must rule over his fantasies. See? This is why he associates me with disgraced terms like “porn star,” “slut” or “stripper.” Because it’s not a common practice in our times for the wife to be her man’s private porn star, own stripper or exclusive personal slut. On the contrary, some ladies would be insulted to hear this type of “compliments” from their man.

Well, I’m not. Because I was there, down the alleys of his mind. He gave me access to his most intimate corners. He is my friend. Once I asked him “Would you like to be my sexual slave?” As he raised his eyes over my belly (to meet mine), I heard him saying that “It will be an honor to serve you well, Madame!”

I can’t complain about that (serving me, I mean). Sex in our marriage is not the one-way avenue where the husband asks for services, all the time, and the wife has to comply. Watched last night on RTL a married couple coming from the porn industry. The man was mad about her (know the feeling). And he showed her to the camera like little boys would brag about their fancy bicycles. Once the reporter caught her alone with the microphone (the man was gently sent to bring something) and he seized the moment to ask for her opinion about sex. And she shyly said that she gets tired, sometimes.

To be continued…

 Sepia shadow image, nude kiss.

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