My Whack-Off Universeby Brandon Edmonds / 01.09.2009
WARNING: Subject matter involves sex, porn and other savouries…
Masturbation has a bad rap. It is unfairly festooned with loser and ‘get a life’ connotations when really its as natural and necessary as hoping the next Arcade Fire release will be better than the last one. With my friends getting married and everyone hooked up, I masturbate in angry defiance of the species injunction to pair off. Hell, it’s a rebel yell for independence and free thought, a pledge to avoid the dumb corral of coupledom. Yeah, that isn’t true. I whack off because it feels good and I’m chronically alone. Like you. The only thing that differentiates us, fiddlers and palm addicts, is what we whack off to. So given that we now have to register our sim cards as cell phone users (part of the post-Bush 911 bullshit wave of civil liberty curtailment) so the State can listen in and track us down, I’m going to ‘come clean’ about my most intimate habit – and, disgusted, maybe they’ll me leave alone.
The greatest porn I ever downloaded had a ‘lolitamodels.com’ banner in the bottom right hand corner. I’d love to find it again. A born again Christian once fixed my computer and erased it. Lord, it was good porn. This yankee stud travels to a barrio in Mexico to find the hottest lolita on earth. He treats it like an expedition complete with a stupendously endowed ebony sidekick. Excited, he finds her. A dripping peach of a lolita in a raggedy summer dress with long peroxide hair and the kind of tight, immaculate body that sandblasts reason and restraint. She invites them in to her home in pert, confident Spanish. She seems amused. This makes her hotter.
The Yank is beside himself. The geopolitical and historical implications of ‘the rape of the South’ and all that shit only makes it hotter, too. He unclothes her and presents her to us, the onanists, unveils her to us like a prize. She holds our gaze with the easygoing pride of the beautiful. Her vagina is loveliness incarnate. Her true breasts are firm and heavy, lick-able wonders. Her ass is ridiculous – as if a convention of erotic cartoonists got together for a month of Sundays to conjure ‘the sublime Ass, an Ass supreme’. Round, golden and firm. I remember the breath rushing from my body in a kind of mangled cry of devotion upon seeing that ass. She suckles the Yank without any faux porn-star gusto. It’s efficient sucking, nice enough, like a real person doing it. She’s no doubt being paid but treating the spectacle like an actual date. This only makes it hotter. The Yank has to win her voice. She’s silent initially. Guided by him. Naturally alert. No automated porn yelping here. Only her eyes signal her slow dawning pleasure. Again her curious passivity is inflaming. Needless to say the Yank has her in every possible way and at one point the ebony sidekick joins in and this barrio goddess outdoes them both. Dripping with their climax, her locks pressed to her damp forehead, heaving, she looks the Americans over with a sporting air, like ‘orale pendejo’s that was OK, but nothing to blog about’ and then presumedly she tidies up and leaves to do the shopping and tell her friends.
So lolita’s are a big part of my whack off universe. The mainstay even. Young women new to their bodies and powers. Sometimes you can actually see the moment when they realize, ‘hey I’m hot enough to never have to work at Daddy’s paint store again!’. I love that moment. The internet has swept up lolita’s in their thousands from around the world, a whirlwind of cutesy panties and willing mouths, and given them to us. For a technology steeped in military R&D,
the Net was conceived as a fallback post-nuclear communication plan, I’d like to stand up and salute, here’s to the swollen US Defence budget, at least its good for something besides murder and mayhem.
My whack off universe would be a poorer place without the Japanese. Oh my… the Japanese.
A people to whom outlandish kink and runaway filth are just a bit of fun in the off hours between working late and slurping ramen. The whole Judeo-Christian guilt complex has no purchase over there. It has no power to judge. So just about anything goes. Anyway, my most beloved bit of Japanese porn has its own genre: Tea Lady porn or S&M Office Romance. The Tea Lady is a feature of Japan’s sexist corporate world. She’s just out of school or college and basically operates as a latter day geisha without the twangy music or elaborate kimono. She serves tea and makes small talk. She minces around the office in mini-skirts and looks fabulous even at the end of the day. She might even fax something. It’s a husband she wants and after staring at her for weeks as she bends to pick up yet another strategically dropped pencil, it’s a husband she gets. The Tea Lady! The clip I love involves a boss insisting a new Tea Lady slip a vibrating egg you know where and go about her business. He idly fires the egg at random and she just about drops to her knees. She’s beautiful. Lithe and tall, immaculately dressed, with haughty features, keen eyes and lustrous hair. It’s a thrill to see her composure go squiggly each time. They go at it and she maintains the ritual deference accorded authority figures which only makes it hotter. Utterly acquiescent and demure, she nevertheless gets the hell into it.
Her formal skirt hoisted over her waist, her spilled milk skin aflame, her button down shirt unbuttoned, her small perfect breasts aroused, her underthings askew, all devastating in the context of the faceless, lifeless office.
Lolita’s, Tea Ladies…what else?
Classic 70s porn. Oh man. This stuff is essential. Firstly, it was all shot on film. Film means the image has grain, texture, flecks and tears. This makes everything seem more illicit. It gives porn the dark fascination of the Zapruder film. Plus the hairstyles and the fashion, there was something about the late 70s and early 80s, a kind of raunchy aesthetic that was already part porn. Women with cherry red lips and hot pants, decadent perms and rollerskates. Women with outsize, unruly bushes. Women yet to give in to sillicone. Cheery, upbeat women dripping with consent. Just about the best classic clip I’ve ever seen is from a series called Taboo which launched ‘incest porn’ and ‘the family lay’ genre. Dorothy Le May, a porn icon as revered as Greta Garbo, with a name just as made up, is a miraculous looking baby doll blonde. She’s soft all over and green eyed and just a teeming marvel of sex signifiers! We meet her on a hot suburban night as she works her teddy between her legs. It doesn’t begin to answer her needs so she steals into her parents room and frees Daddy from his pj’s. He’s naturally taken aback but Le May’s pink willing mouth soon unmakes propriety, and Mom sleeps alongside as she mounts her Pop. It’s a hot, fraught, tender, appalling lay – everything porn should be.
Image courtesy and © Jason Bronkhorst