Memor(s)exed

Recently, James sent me a clip of me giving him head. He had shot it a few months back, on the ill-fated night of heavy drinking. The trouble with that evening wasn't the video. If you don't remember that evening, you should read this.  Yeah. Well, one other thing I didn't remember about that night was that James and I had made a mini-sextape of me fellating him. I was surprised when he told me about it and sent the clip over. I wasn't surprised that we made it, I was just surprised that I didn't recall making it. He was shocked that I didn't remember, as well. At any rate, I was happy to find out that there was a small piece of memorabilia from that hilarious, cloudy evening. I was excited to see what he and his iPhone had captured of our lovemaking that evening, but disappointed when I opened the clip and found little more than a soundtrack of his pleasure. The video was dark and shaky, but from the sounds of it, I was killing it. I'm pretty sure James owes me dinner for that one. At the end of the 30 second clip, the camera steadies a bit and the shot lightens. And, there I am, dick in mouth. I caught a 2 second glimpse of the spit glistening on my lips and on him. Then, the image froze and I was left to wonder.

Since getting that video, I have been wanting to video more sex acts. I imagine my reasons are similar to those of most people that want to do it. I want to see myself. I want to see what I look like, I want to look at my partner. I want to hear the sounds we make. Part of it is pure vanity. I am quite positive that this vanity will bite me in the ass when it comes time to watch. Everything that feels so hot and steamy probably looks a bit messy when not engaged in the act. But, nonetheless, I want to see.

Another reason the urge to video the act is so great is that I am currently having sex roughly once or twice a week. This is great. I don't mind this, at all. However, there are 7 days in a week. And, I have been thinking a lot about those 1 or 2 days on the remaining 5 or 6. It would be nice to have something to reference back to when I'm handling up on those lonely nights. The idea of being able to create an ideal scene, in which I am the leading lady, is a little more than exciting to me. For once, I don't have to pretend that the coked-up white chick is me and the tattooed 'pool guy' is my lover. Well, I might keep the tattooed pool guy.  But, alas, I can avoid those dumbass plots. Who wants their sex to have a plot, anyway?

So, I want to make a sex tape. But, I'm not talking about any of this grainy, Paris Hilton, night-vision bullshit. I'm a photographer. So, you better believe I am showing up with camera equipment, lighting equipment and a tripod. It's going to be done right. I'm shooting this one in RAW (pun-intended) and editing it down in FinalCutPro.  Part of me wants to make a series with all of my lovers. But, somehow, I think a spotlight and video release form might kill the mood, occasionally.

Unfortunately, I am not quite sure who would play opposite me. I hadn't thought that far into it. I have videoed so many solo missions I had to buy an extra hard-drive to store all the masturbation. And, that just doesn't really do anything for me. The idea of masturbating to myself masturbating creates a mental wormhole of narcissism that leaves me Serengeti dry. So, I guess until the world rights itself and I find my way to The Stranger, this one will remain an unrequited fantasy. Maybe it's for the best. Who knows, possessing such a video might be the last straw, throwing me into a downward spiral of masturbatory hermitage.  ... Doubtful, but anything is possible.

So, until my porno prince charming comes along, I will just keep streaming my temporary lovers through my slow internet. And, Pornhub will keep my loyal business. Woe is me.