I watch porn a lot differently than I used to.
When I used to sneak around and watch whatever hardcore videos beamed through the satellite dish, I would sit and watch attentively for as long as I could, taking it all in until I heard my parents pulling into the driveway.
When I moved out on my own, the interruptions stopped. With access to the internet and a small collection of X-rated DVDs, I could watch the way I wanted to: scene by scene, from beginning to end.
Then, things changed.
Not with me. I would be more than happy to watch these movies and clips from the setup to the money shot. But something happened to mainstream heterosexual porn. And now I find myself skipping through the videos I’m watching.
I’m not fast-forwarding through the dialogue — I still love giggling at the bad scripts, the awkward delivery, and …