“Of course they’re not real!”
I exclaim whilst having lunch with Poly the other day. It’s only a few days out from the big swinger’s party, when she shows me the forum that all the registered guests are allowed onto. There’s lots of anticipation in the posts with most of the discussion about what people are going to wear, which is kind of weird when you consider that a core objective is to get naked.
Poly’s intending to wear a black strapless number that matches her lingerie. I ask if people wear masks, and party rules are that masks can be worn on upon arrival but shortly after, once the play starts, they come off. For the most part the safety/anonymous aspect is supported by the removal of all electronic devices. You also need to sign a non-disclosure agreement on entry which says you can’t discuss who was at the party. You can talk about your experience, but no specifics. Obviously, we need to be careful when writing this blog.
But apparently, in the pre-party online chat forum it seems ok to be a little bit less circumspect. One women posts a bathroom selfie, you know where the picture is taken into a mirror so that her body is in full view. Which of course was the point, because on display is a cosmetically perfect set of breasts. Poly is showing me the photo saying “look at the fake tits”. To which I reply, “Of course they’re not real”. This is something I know a bit about as my skepticism kicks in.
The woman’s face was expertly hidden behind the phone so that she could not be identified, almost like it was too well practiced. The other guests would not have been able to tell who she was, well except for her partner and maybe the plastic surgeon.
The breasts of course are not real, they were part of an upgrade, but she’s justifiably very pleased with her purchase. The other guests pile in and the forum is “going off”, probably in more ways than one. There is an expected response of barely contained desire, all polite and positive mind you, and followed a bit later by another photo of same woman only this time on her knees, legs spread wide facing the camera with all the fully shaven pink bits out on display.
The niggling sense of “something’s not quite right” continues to grow during our conversation, and it is only later that I was able to work out what was going on for me.
Pornography or erotica (which is just porn with a better storyline) are ok. However I “let go” of pornography in my twenties. What I’d come to realise was that it was all very very fake. I also saw the porn on the web was becoming increasingly hard core. This was over two decades ago mind you, and many have commented similarly since then, confirming my opinion.
The only thing that wasn’t fake was my reaction to it, and I realised that I had become the slow boiling frog in what is essentially just a commercial arrangement. I was only able to “let go” of pornography because trying to “give it up”, or “push it down” or “run from it” are how you fail completely. You need to get to know your shadow otherwise it will control you. It’s not very healthy otherwise.
It was in large part due to my ex-girlfriend at the time that I was able to let go. I had met her at uni years before and she was doing women’s studies along with law and politics, so the strong narrative about the objectification of women was front and centre, and I got both barrels whilst going out with her. Then after we broke up we continued to remain friends. It was several years later whilst speaking with her that she actually apologized. We were talking about porn when she said that porn was ok and she was sorry about the hard time she’d previously given me.
Hearing this from her was huge. It was a massive release and she even wanted me to copy the stuff I had so she could get a look. This was like a damn bursting on the guilt from years of indoctrination. It was ok. And to this day I contend that it is actually ok.
But the letting go happened a few months later when I also acknowledged that whilst erotic material was ok, there was also an incredibly strong undercurrent of manipulation in it. It was the unmitigated coercion of a basic human drive that sent me over the edge.
I hate being manipulated, so when I saw miss fake breasts in the photo on Poly’s phone, it occurred to me that it was probably a staged contribution. With approximately 30 couples due to attend the function, each paying a few hundred dollars, this is quite a money earner. It would therefore be in the best interest of the organisers to make the guests are excited and to prompt things along by astroturfing desire. It is my contention that the woman posting the nude selfies was hired to do so, either that or it’s a stock photo from somewhere else with commentary added, probably by an overweight middle-aged man with a receding hairline with day job writing those “true” stories for penthouse.
Still the forum obviously had the desired effect and poly is almost apoplectic with anticipation. She “can’t wait” for Saturday and is currently having sex at least once a day, but more frequently if possible. In addition it’s getting more difficult to fall asleep because this out of control train of rumination and expectation is unstoppable. She has all her tests back and all is good. In addition her partner John, after FINALLY being pulled to the doctors has his test results and they have also come back ok as well.
“Three more sleeps” she says, to which I remark, “assuming that you actually get to sleep.”