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As Seen in Porn

"Why don't you like porn?" he asked me with sheer disbelief in his eyes.

"I just don't like seeing people having sex when I want to have sex. They are there fucking, and I'm not; it just makes me mad," I replied.

"That is ridiculous. Would you like porn if you were watching it while having sex?"

"I don't see why not. It takes away the one reason I don't like it."

"Then we have to try it."

With this one conversation, he was determined. We spent a drunken night at the porn store after the bar rummaging through the bins, turning over DVDs plastered in naked tits and cum shots. He wanted me properly stimulated; he needed me to share his enjoyment of porn.

When we found what we wanted, we headed home. He was twitching with excitement beside me. His hands anxiously fondled the plastic case painted in sex. I even began to feel myself squirming with a slight anticipation. I did not necessarily ache for the porn we had just purchased, but I did crave him and responded to the deviation from our normal routine.

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We slipped in the DVD, and there it was: the collateral plotline, the cliché dialog, the flamboyant sex, all that I had mocked and avoided all this time. Yet as I watched a woman on the screen being fucked hard by a chiseled man, I felt a persuasive tingling beginning inside me. I felt his hand caressing my thigh; my sex was right beside me as I watched the portrayal of others' sex on the flat screen.

As the scenes progressed, the sex became more hardcore; the screams from the TV became louder and more desperate, and he began to ravage me. The porn echoing around us impassioned him with a raging desire. He was hungry for me, thirsty for me. The intensity of his rampant seduction was overwhelming, and I found myself dripping wet for him.

He had a surprise for me; I never saw it coming. Forcefully, he bent me over the coffee table, facing us both towards the TV. Then I felt myself penetrated, hard. It was not his penis. I turned to see him ramming the smooth shaft of a dildo deep inside me. His eyes shifted attention to me and the sexual scene in front of us. I too stared at the sex on the screen as I dug my fingertips into the wood of the table with each wave of his thrusts.

He was wild, animalistic even, as he threw me down on the floor in front of the TV. I lay parallel to a porn star, anonymous to me, being fucked senseless. My eyes wandered up to see how hard she was being pounded as he pushed the dildo relentlessly into me. I came before her as if we were competing. It was as if we had slipped into an orgy; those two dimensional strangers had appeared in the room beside us.

Yet the porn fell away. Our hot and nasty sex obliterated the world around us. My orgasms turned my senses fuzzy and confused. There was only him moving perfectly into me, better than any porn star on the screen beside us. Nothing beats the real thing.

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