If your kink is sugar, then you have a hard time analysing food porn with a detached eye. This because sugar creates addiction, like so many other substances or habits.
If your kink is porn, then you’ll have an easy time watching and understanding a Parodie grotesque, or a grotesque parody – to slip my French into English.
I’ve filmed in my share of porn parodies, together with my Fotomann. There was ‘Wifey and Hubby Try to Make a Porno’ and ‘The Snuggly Story Behind the Fairy Tale’ and ‘Flash Garden, Outdoor Operetta’ – not a space opera, just an outdoor little one – and ‘Garage 69’ or ‘Cannon on the Wall’ or ‘Swapping Our Lingerie’ or the crazy ‘Parlay Role Play’ or the delirious ‘La Sorcière volante’ or the more sensual ‘A Romantic Dream, Split in Two.’
But we never did a political parody about March 8, the internationally sanctioned woman’s day. I’ve got not so pleasant memories left about this parody – not the planned porn script, but the socialistic mockery of men giving official parties to celebrate woman’s day, where men would be served by women – as always.
This year, I wished to take woman’s day a step further: dressing Don as a woman (I found him a nice serving dress to fit), have him serve and obey me (I’d wear trousers, shortcut jeans), then have him fellate my natural plastic dildo-dick as I’d recite celebratory verses to honor sister woman, er, serving sister woman, on woman’s day. A Parodie GROTESQUE. Don was game, even if he didn’t like the dress – told me that he looks like a janitor in it. That was the idea, actually.
Then we slept on the idea, because night came. And Don dreamed that two guys were responsible for disassembling and trashing his notebook. He talked and screamed in sleep. After I had to wake him up, he was so happy about his laptop, in one piece. The two guys were 1-his father and 2-his son. A thoughtful dream. That put a period to our parody, before even putting it on scene. Period, I agreed.
Comes March 8. I go shopping. At the gate, a young lad hands me a flower. Nothing personal, as he did that to each lady stepping in that shop. Then I come home and tell Don that the yoga mats are out, and I’ve gotta borrow his (he’s a yoga man too, what?). After my yoga hour, filmed and photographed, I want him in me and he brings the phone with us in bed.
There goes the actual, genuine love making that – by ways of selfies – has turned into an even more Parodie GROTESQUE. We didn’t plan it! But I loved it. What about him? Needless to say.