Mars vs Venus | Masturbating on porn
“I badly needed to masturbate yesterday, so I watched some Erika Lust. The ‘Valentin, Pierre & Catalina’ story is so hot!”
Aliki was referring to Erika Lust’s X Confessions Vol. 15 and more particularly to an M-M-F threesome. Something in my face must have twitched because, after a short hesitation, Aliki went on.
“Does it disturb you, baby, that I watch porn when I masturbate?”
“Well, I would rather you think of me when you do.”
I said this jokingly but, in all honesty, something in me rebelled.
“Oh, but I do! What I watch is only a scenario in which I project you and me.”
My reptile brain
I have recently read that women watch more porn when they’re in long-term relationships than before. So why would my partner masturbating on porn irk me?
I have to admit that I am not big on porn. Even during puberty porn didn’t mean much to me. Sure, at the time, internet was too slow to download pictures. But I would have still preferred magazines with soft-porn images of Carol Alt and Gillian Anderson (I know, I know) or sexy scenes in mainstream movies. Mostly, however, I used my imagination -also because finding the right scene on a VHS takes forever. The reality is that the more ‘in your face’ things are, the less I find them exciting. The more they leave to the imagination, the better they work.
Aliki is not much into porn either. But since we have discovered Erika’s productions, she has gotten more and more into it. This was not the first time she pleased herself in front of one of her movies when I am not around.
Part of me is turned on -very turned on actually. I have a woman who loves sex and who is emancipated enough to acknowledge it and do something about it. No qualms there. But my reptile brain tells me that this makes me somewhat redundant. My Neanderthal genes register her desire for sex as not being linked to me -her partner- but to anything that can excite her.
The thing is I know that Aliki is not only a very loyal partner but also very much in love with me. So how does it work?
Venus masturbating on porn
I know Aliki very well and trust her. I believe her when she tells me that she considers masturbating on porn as part of our common sexual space; that she simply uses porn to “set the stage” as it were and then imagine us doing what the actors do. But it’s simply that: trust.
To my masculine brain such a transferral is not possible. If I am watching a red head and a brunette cavorting on a deck-chair next to the pool of a Playboy-style villa, it’s them who excite me. And although they are nothing to me but a stimulant, it is not the same as imagining Aliki and me in the scene. I don’t do that. If I had to imagine something, I’d imagine me taking one of the two actresses. This is possibly the reason why I mostly use my imagination (and my hand, of course). And then I either have glimpses of Aliki and me in action or of things that I would like us to do someday. I have a portfolio of ‘best of’ scenes for both scenarios to choose from and project on my mind’s white screen (though I won’t share those you just as yet).
Mars talking about it
Aliki and I firmly believe that the basis of a good, healthy sex life is talking openly about sex. So one evening I opened up.
“Aliki, baby, I am ashamed to tell you, but you masturbating on porn does not leave me completely indifferent.”
“My love, I can easily stop if it bothers you so much. Stop watching porn on my own, that is, not masturbating- just to be clear.”
“No no, baby! Absolutely not. It is normal and healthy. I would simply like to be cooler about it.”
My partner held me tighter against her warm, naked body.
‘For me it is simple, Xander. It is exactly like going to a swingers’ club. The action there means nothing to me on an emotional level. I keep some of the sexy scenes and use them later. It simply enhances our love life and sparks my imagination.’
I nodded, cupping one of her breasts and kissing it softly.
“It is the same as buying underwear or sex toys. I go online and scroll through the sexiest pieces. It excites me. Not the underwear, but wearing it for you, and what it would do to you when you see me in it.”
I didn’t need further explanations. The love of my life had driven the point home very easily and eloquently.
Now it was my turn to drive mine.
