January 28, 2010

ELIZABETH ROSE

“Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.” -Antoine de Saint-Exupery

In my early days of sexual infancy (before my rise to sexual infamy) setting up for a sex tape was quite the fandango. It required positioning and specialist equipment (or at the very least borrowing the family camcorder). To play it on a TV one needed a cable or special adaptor. And sharing it was nigh on impossible – one had to physically hand the tape in question over. There was no porn hub in those days!

Now, recording equipment is pocket sized, discrete and HD. So the pores of the skin on your inner thigh can be enjoyed worldwide via a live webcast. This poses some risks to privacy and even to me seems like over sharing.  However, as they say a deal’s a deal. So having satisfied my curiosity for vibrating a man’s arse I found myself honour bound to star in some homemade porn.

Excellent.

Strangely, as extroverted as I am the idea didn’t appeal to me. Instead I was filled with trepidation, and the low accusatory hum of a butt plug acted as my tell tale heart. Turns out I shouldn’t have been worried. I am a natural show pony. I always fuck like I have an audience. Unfortunately for me the audience I was playing to seemed to like an old school variety performance, which wasn’t at all what I delivered.

Post coitus as Finn and I basked together in the afterglow, he started the tape to check out the live action replay.  As I watched myself on film I realized it wasn’t at all like the filth fest to be found in my German collection of porn. In fact, it wasn’t even particularly embarrassing…

For me.

Sadly that was not the case for poor Finn, who was more than a bit annoyed when he noticed that I had hammed it up for the camera. You see dear readers, while he filmed me performing my party trick I was crossing my eyes for comedic effect. (Apparently seeing your cock in a girl’s mouth is less than erotic when she is pulling a face like that.) And my yawning while he was pounding away at my ass doggy style? Not funny either (though I beg to differ). He was likewise unimpressed with my lurid wink into the lens of the camera over his missionary positioned shoulder, and the fact that I was filing my nails while receiving oral. Still, as unhappy as he was all may have been forgiven were it not for my performance of the YMCA dance while I was on top and his eyes were closed.

To hear him tell it I had ruined everything, but I strongly disagree. I’m the queen of comedic porn. My performance was hilarious, so much so that I managed to make a sex tape that he would never dare show anyone else – which in and of itself is quite an achievement.

The fact is I didn’t want a tape of my bedroom performance being passed along to his mates. The last thing I need is a celebrity sex tape expose (obviously I would first need celebrity); so I came up with a novel and rather ingenious way of preventing it. Regrettably I now have the converse problem as I wish I had the tape to pass around myself!

As I doubt Finn will ever forgive me for ‘ruining’ our sex tape, I will be auditioning for a new leading man to be my co-star in the next Coital Cabaret. Applications can be submitted via the usual manner – full contact details posted on the gents’ toilet wall.

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