Naturally, I went shopping for Shayne. Now and then I like to make "care packages" to send her that usually contain fun little things, stuff we happen to be talking about, whatever. Smut. At the fabulous sexshop cooperative near me I bought Belladonna's Evil Pink 2, mostly because I think Shayne'll enjoy the behind-the-scenes elements and Keeani Lei with Belladonna in schoolgirl uniforms. A cute little sex comic from Eros for her completed my purchase, although I admit to having been a little intrigued by the boy toys too. Do I want to try the Fleshlight sometime? Could be fun. And that blowjob suction thing looked like it might actually work well. Hrm. It's tough to get good cock toys, you know.
I especially enjoyed how the amazingly hot, short-haired, deliciously dyky associate in the store smirked a lot as I shopped. Another lovely associate was assisting me, and in explaining Shayne's interests, I mentioned that I was shopping for 'a friend.' Was she smirking because I, a man, was obviously looking for lesbian porn? "Fucking typical." Did she suppose my story of shopping for 'a friend' was a lame come-on? "Yeah, sure you are, dude." Or was she enjoying the idea of how I, as a man, was buying lesbian porn for my (virtually-) lesbian friend in another city, thus being the cosmopolitan kinda guy I believe I am at heart? "Whatever, dude, nothing surprises me anymore."
I really should talk with Deliciously Dyky sometime. Her vibe actually makes me nervous-in-the-good-way.
(And a word on lesbian porn: gentlemen (for those of you of either gender who are gentlemen), don't think for one moment that most of what's on the market (including Evil Pink 2) is a truthful representation of the glorious world of womenlust. It ain't. But my thoughts on the sexual politics of the adult entertainment industry will wait.)
From there I found myself getting Shayne some Asian skin mags at another (and far more kitschytacky) shop. Then on to what has to be the sleaziest, dirtiest adult DVD outlet in my city... but the prices are so agreeable. It's like going to one of those discount houseware outlets in the 'wrong side' of town, where the kids are screaming over their McDonald's bags while stressed out mothers are balancing the baby with the jumbo sized laundry detergent. Except here, the kids are grungy men wandering in stoic silence, avoiding eye contact with one another, and the mothers are the bored, equally grungy immigrant workers vainly trying to keep the no-less-grungy street people out.
Clue-by-four: This is not sexy. I appreciate how sleazy places can have its own element of hotness in the right context, but really, this place is way off the Skeeve-O-Meter. No, really.
So why then do I buy a three-dollar ticket to pass through the dirty black plastic shower curtain and into the room full of mismatched chairs to see the porn movie playing?
Duh. Because I can.
I watch one or two scenes featuring women with tramp stamps having totally unexcited sex with solidly buff but boringly mechanical men. It isn't long before I text Shayne.
Me: Why do men in porn films seem to be inept at sucking pussy?Shayne: Good question. Maybe youre just a pussy sucking god
Me: Oh, don't tease me, you meanie.
Shayne: I'm not!
I decide to check out two of the other porn places I know of. One because it's nearby, and the other because it's about to close down and is the last actual movie theatre porn palace left in this city. The VHS/DVD/Internet porn revolution has its victims. I ask myself if I'm in the mood to let a guy blow me: both places occasionally present that option.
But, no. Apart from some decent interracial smut at both places (I really do enjoy watching women suck black cock, I admit it), I called it a night.
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