Years and years ago, on a blog that no longer exists, BDSM pornographer JR wrote a little essay about what it’s like to date a porn star. It sounds to me as if he may have been a little bit in love. Certainly, your mileage (and your porn stars) may vary. But even so:
I really have a good life with her. We do all the things every “normal” couple does. Shopping, the grocery store. I’d even go so far to say that she pampers me. She looks out for me in the ways I fail, she always reaches for me in the night when I come to bed. Without fail, she moans the pleasure, even vibrates. She gives me confirmation without me asking or without, I believe, her even knowing it. She is proactive in my life, she loves my animals, she engages me every morning, she insists on being a part of me.
She repeatedly request that I join her at her shoots. She tells me in no uncertain terms that she prefers me at her side.
She doesn’t care how I smell. She dresses with style and down-home cuteness. Her panty and sun dress collection would blow your mind, I dress like a slob and can never remember to zip up my pants.
When I wake in the morning she is there. She is herself; nude, tiny and full of life. Always bright, always receptive, always ready to live the moment; she would just as soon brush my dogs in the back yard upon waking as hit a thrift store or catch “breakfast”. Her outlook, her stance, her approach reflect this. She never denies me.
Like me, in spite of what you read here, she is very private. Her attention is gratuitous when she trusts you.
But you do have to live with the fact that she fucks other men. Fucks them on camera. Fucks them in front of people.
You need to reach inside and find yourself.
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