Tales of my Greedy Punt – Week 5

Watching you, watching me. Aha.

I like to be watched. I think a lot of girls like to be watched. Of course this is a highly politicised subject – the female gaze and all that. The desire to be watched must derive from enjoying watching. Enjoying watching girls in porn.

Nope, not that kind of watching. Try again

The point-of-view filming, watching her bounce on him, touch herself, climax in the most ridiculous fashion. It’s fucking hot. It’s a quick and easy fix to make yourself fucking wet. It’s the empty calories of masturbating. It’s fast food, fast arousal, fast climaxing. Watching – it is such fun.

And the idea of being watched. Yum. Doing that to someone else. Watching them, watch you. Oh Boy. Gee wiz. Zipperdy doooo dahhhhhh. ZING.

Can’t deny my incestuous thing for Big Brother

My editor and I have an agreement – that the next time either of us take home a new lover we must try and undress, without kissing, or touching, and watch each other masturbate. Only watch. Have a one-night stand with no sex involved. A real-life porn experience.  All in an effort to get to some real good slow-burning carbs. The porridge of porn. The whole-food of masturbating. Guilt-free chowing down on a big ol’ meal of self-pleasuring. Yum.

Of course I’ve always been too ravenous to abstain. I’m Greedy, remember? So this fantasy must stay as such.

So, how am I going to sate my thirst for watching? I read about an ethical porn website which pays you for sending in high-quality videos of your face (no nudity allowed) as you masturbate. Honk honk. So I tried it out. Not high-quality. Not with these pores. So in an essay hole I set up my laptop facing my bed. And filmed myself. Doing what I do. Sat up on my knees, spat onto my fingers, and gave it a go.

*Guilty face*

I don’t know what I thought I would feel watching me back. It certainly was not arousal, nor was it disgust. I suppose the reaction was, ‘Oop, there’s me masturbating…that’s an odd noise…hmm interesting facial spasm…’.

This had happened before – me and my ex filmed ourselves. Watching that back was dry as hell. Two naked rabbits bonking quite frankly. But the foreplay – the interaction of the camera with our instructions to each other. Him holding the camera as I suck his dick. Now that was hot.

Don’t know about you, but it ain’t doing anything for me

And just as I found myself as my laptop filmed me that dreary afternoon, I totally got off on the fact I was being filmed – the eroticism that surrounded the potential of someone watching you. You’re basically getting off on your own objectification. I’m fudding myself to the thought of myself as a sex toy. And I’m not sure I give a shit.