Another Reason Men Like Porn
Tuesday, October 28th, 2014 -- by Bacchus
The click-bait headline is a complete lie. This account covers only two days of unrestricted sexing, it’s written in the style of erotic fiction, and we never find out what happens: For One Week I Decided To Have Sex With My Boyfriend Whenever He Wanted (Here’s What Happened).
However, early on there’s a brief discussion of why men like porn, that I think may have some wisdom in it:
Anyways, we watched porn together sometimes and I knew he watched it alone. I’m not like, “the cool girl” who’s totally okay with her boyfriend watching porn but I knew it was an uphill battle and one that wasn’t going to end well for either of us, so I tried to use it to bring us closer together. One night … I asked him what he liked about porn, and whether access to me or all the other women in the world (hotter ones, I even gave him) would be better, ideally.
His answer surprised me, it wasn’t about quality or quantity, but about availability. With me, (and he loved me very much, he clarified), he had to woo me, constantly. Sex was never a given, and this is a biological difference between men and women. He was trying, all the time, to make me think of him sexually and to initiate sex and even my higher-than-average female libido couldn’t keep up with him. As loving and as open and assuring as I was towards him, he was still getting rejected by me in this way, often (and even more often if he would be honest about how frequently he wanted sex).
And so watching porn made sense to me in a way it never had before. The fantasy, the real fantasy, was a world free of rejection….
In my experience and observation, even the most sexually generous women, in even the most loving and sexual relationships, are but dipping with a small spoon into the hogshead of available male proposition. I would be open to the argument that they need to be skilled at rejection and at preempting the propositions that make outright rejection (with all its costs and dangers) necessary. But it had never occurred to me that this project of ongoing rejection could become so automatic, as with breathing, that a woman might cease to be aware of doing it. And yet this author was, she says, surprised to learn how often she was rejecting her boyfriend.
That surprise? It surprises me.
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