Porn Star(60)
I peer around to see her eyes. “Does this mean I can—” I search for the right words. “—try to be your boyfriend?”
“Try?” Her voice and expression are unreadable as she repeats the key word to the request, and shame bolts through me. I want to offer her so much more than try, I want to be, but at the same time, this is Devi. Perfection embodied. My goddess and queen of the night, and what if I’m not able to be good enough for her?
What if, like Tanner suggested, she’s not okay with me continuing with my porn career?
Try is safest for now, even though it’s the least of what I want to give her. I’m the older, (theoretically) more mature party in this, and I’ve also recently traveled through the conflagration of a ruined relationship. I deserve better, Devi certainly deserves better, and that means treading thoughtfully for now.
“Yes,” I say carefully. “I want to try a boyfriend-girlfriend thing with you.”
I see her mind running through my words, weighing them and judging them, and then the biggest, most bashful smile spreads across her face. “Yes, Logan. Let’s try to have a boyfriend-girlfriend thing.”
“Oh, thank God,” I say, and I should tell her I love her now, I want to, but then I think of my logical girl with her cautious eyes. It’s fascinating to me how she can seem so carefree, so sunny, but at the same time, she’s got a mind that ticks through thoughts and decisions like a Swiss watch. I can’t spring the love thing on her now without making her watch mechanisms work overtime, so instead, I say, “I’ve got to f*ck you again, you know that right?”
Her body makes a sinuous arch as she stretches off the sleeping bag to find my wallet. She extracts a condom, and I rise up on my knees, a big dopey grin on my face. My thoughts run something like this: sex is happening, yay! With my new sort-of girlfriend, yay! Sex sex sex!
She tears the wrapper open with her teeth, expertly pinches the tip and rolls it down my thick erection. When she’s done, she gives my cock a little teasing squeeze and looks up at my face.
“You look so happy,” she says shyly.
“Because I get to f*ck my sort-of girlfriend right now.”
Spontaneously, she rises up and gives me a deep, searing kiss. I kiss her back until she’s panting and squirming against me.
“On your knees and smile for the camera,” I say.
13
The number one question I get when people find out I do girl-girl porn is, “So you’re a lesbian?”
The short answer is, “I’m bi.”
The long answer is, “All women are bi.”
The reason that answer is long is because there’s usually a discussion that has to take place after someone makes a comment like that. But here’s the thing—science pretty much proves it.
Now, no reason to get your panties in a wad about this. I’m not trying to start an argument; I just want to be able to explain how I got into this line of work, and part of that explanation requires understanding the basics of human biology, which, surprisingly, many people don’t.
Lesson time—women can identify as one hundred percent heterosexual, live a completely straight lifestyle, and still be aroused by another woman. It’s a fact. By arousal, I mean pupils dilate, pulse quickens, blood flow increases to the genitals. The female might not even recognize that these physical changes are happening, and I’m not talking about these things occurring when she’s kissed or caressed—I’m talking about when women are shown pictures of other attractive women, their bodies react.
Read the studies if you don’t believe me.
But, see, arousal is not the same as sexual orientation. Arousal is something that occurs on a physiological level. It’s natural. Base. Primal.
Sexual lifestyle is determined by things that are harder to measure and explain—cultural conditioning, emotional attachment, socio-economic factors, religious affiliation. That’s a much more controversial topic to delve into, and all I’m going to say on that matter is that the way I was raised has a lot to do with how I feel about sex.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
The point is if we’re going by physical arousal, research suggests that women are most certainly never completely straight. We’re turned on by varying degrees of both male and female sexual stimuli. And why wouldn’t we be? We’re wired to procreate, but we’re also wired to seek pleasure. There’s so much pleasure in the female form—their hips, their breasts, their lips. Women are soft and beautiful and sexy in ways that men just aren’t.
So if the studies show that women are aroused from viewing same-sex stimuli, then how much more aroused are they going to be if they have a physical encounter? Then the stimulus becomes more than just sight and sound. Now it’s also touch and scent and taste. Say what you will about the gender you would prefer to get it on with; if you were blindfolded, could you honestly tell the difference between a man stroking your hair and a woman? Both feel good. And feels good is feels good. What gets in the way of enjoying it is all mental.
I told you it was a long answer.
Maybe a better answer is the explanation of how I got started in this business. Short answer is, “I blame my parents.”
Long answer is, “No, I mean, I really blame my parents.”
From as early as I can remember, I was taught that bodies are beautiful and sex is natural. It was practically a daily prayer, one that my parents strove to reflect in their daily lives. Before I hit puberty, I was exposed to so many different variations of free love and nudist living that I had no chance of growing up to be a woman afraid of showing a little skin.