Chemistry

A lazy Saturday trip to the mall - we bought some new towels and a giant clock for the home theatre - was followed by an afternoon watching porn. We cracked a bottle of wine - a white Viognier Grenache blend - and downed it to the first half hour of Chemistry Volume 1. This is a unique film that seems to try to exploit the worlds current fascination with reality television but instead serves as a pseudo-documentary that allows you to create some real empathy with the actors, which makes it a billion times hotter than most adult films.

After the wine (about 30 minutes for the bottle) we started with various sexual activities - the Goddess gave some fantastic head, much above her usual efforts, inspired by the film - and proceeded to get interactive with the next hour of the film. We were spent much earlier than the people in the film and there was still an hour left when we retired for a smoke and to assemble dinner.

We had some interesting conversations before/during/after the sex - mostly around inhibitions and a desire to be free of them. I was astonished to find myself watching an incredibly hot threesome where one of the girls was pegging the man, and we talked about the conflicting emotions we have around anal pleasure - she hates me thinking about her ass, I get extremely uncomfortable with enjoying her putting things in mine.

It wasn't a conversation that lent itself to a conclusion, but it did bring renewed awareness on my part to the deep parts of the psyche attached to sex and the way we are trained to be uncomfortable with how our bodies can bring ourselves and others pleasure. While the vast majority of the population would be uncomfortable on the surface with this idea, we'd all be a lot happier if we all fucked each other a little more often I think.

But it is a complex issue, and I suppose I'm being dismissive about its deep implications. It was really fun and refreshing to watch an adult film where the participants discuss how they have actually enjoyed each other, and (if very briefly) touch on their own emotional processes that let them explore sex in ways that fill me envy just as much as I'm sure they fill George W. Bush with rage.

Perhaps someday we'll reach a place where we can be comfortable renewing a lifestyle of exploring sexual pleasure with others in our community, but as the buzz from the wine rolls off my brain I remember all the fear, isolation, and paranoia previous explorations have left me with.