Montreal, Part II

Here’s what I think about porn (at least, the porn I like): It’s fantasy. An escape. Total unreality. Just enough basis in real life so that it’s not outrageous and unbelievable (it needs to be just believable), but honestly not so far removed from a cartoon. Porn is not about the mundane mechanics of how sex should or does work, it’s about turning people on. Porn is not a guide to sex any more than The Lion King is a guide to wildlife. It should be reasonably well-written with all the words spelled correctly and with acceptable grammar. Basically, it shouldn’t look like it was pecked out with one hand (if you know what I mean). That is the standard I have tried to follow as I’ve continued this story.

Please note that the events I’ve depicted here have no basis in any personal experiences, except that Belle and I did once spend a very nice (very vanilla) weekend in Montreal in a room not unlike the one I describe in the story. I am not representing real life here and I am also very clearly not trying to describe some kind of ideal life through fiction. I would not want what happens to the guy in this story to happen to me (not all of it, anyway). Life is life, porn is porn. They are not the same.

Anyway, with that outrageously long preamble out of the way, let’s continue. Last we saw our protagonist, he was bound to a chair, a red dildo up his ass, on display in front of the windows of the hotel room he shared with his wife. Night was beginning to fall. Soon, it would be hard for anyone to miss him…

Continue reading “Montreal, Part II”

Montreal, Part I

A couple of weeks ago when Belle was out of town, I found myself laying in bed with my imagination running wild. I had just woken up and wasn’t fully awake. As I lay there in that groggy state, I allowed an actual event – a trip we took together several years ago – to merge with fantasies being produced by my hormone-soaked brain. The vividness with which this tale spun out in my head was remarkable. Before I lost any of the detail and texture, I tried to commit as much of it as possible to memory.

In the distant past, I tried my hand at fiction. Once or twice, even erotic fiction. That, however, was long ago. What’s presented here is my first stab at anything of this sort in close to 20 years. It may be good, or it may not. You may like it, or you may not.

I think it’s important to point out at this juncture that none of the things related here actually happened. Also, I’m not saying by writing this out that I want any or all of these things to happen to me. This is porn. Porn is fantasy. There are elements of what’s described here that I find extremely arousing. However, at it’s best, porn is a cartoon-like caricature of real life. Maybe that’s the difference between “erotic” and “porn”. Erotic is closer to possible while porn is obviously not. Who knows? In any event, here’s my first stab at it. Please feel free to let me have it in the comments.

Continue reading “Montreal, Part I”