Over the years I’ve come to the conclusion there’s no such thing as just sex. I met some gay people who seem slightly offended when I suggest their latest dark room encounter has a lot of value for them somehow.
For some reason people have trouble embracing the fact that people you have sex with are meaningful.
Sure, I’ve had sex that felt meaningless and empty, but that didn’t make it less of an experience.
Of all the guys I’ve ever been with, Guy #24 is the one that came closest to being just sex.
He was my second audition.
I believe people who work in the porn industry are shamelessly underappreciated for their efforts. It requires a lot of concentration to play your part on Guy #24 when Guy #23 is lying in between your legs with his camera pointed upward.
Guy #24 was my dress rehearsal.
It did not go well.
I could go into detail about how things went down, but the jist of it is that I was strongly advised to take some Viagra on the actual set, which I would later found out was just another word for ‘hotel room’.
While I never regretted the experience, it did strike me how bad I was at sex when it was just about sex. It was weird to be intimate and professional at the same time.
At the time I wanted to believe just sex was a thing. I intensely enjoyed the lack of commitment I was feeling. I was quite literally like a bee hopping from flower to flower, in a city full of flowers.
About a week after my encounter with Guy #24 I spoke to the producer, Guy #23, on the phone. Guy #24 happened to be in the room with him and gave him on the phone, suggesting we had established some kind of bond or something. Our conversation was as short as it was awkward. It turned out that we had in fact made some kind of connection, but I wasn’t ready to accept the commitment attached to it.
I think a lot of gay guys have this problem. It’s why they like to believe there is such a thing as just sex.
There isn’t. Not even when you’re doing porn.