Valentines Day Post

unintended beauty



Is there really so little value in porn? Is porn so dirty, so narrowly viewed that nothing of any real value could ever come of it? No beauty, nothing to engage the viewer in higher thinking?

I beg to differ.

I can only imagine that when I first say the word 'porn', an image of an over-sized blonde woman, mouth open in pretend ecstasy, pops into the readers head. I can see why, and cast no judgement whatsoever. I myself have many such video files in my porn collection, wherein wholesale sex is sold without any further goal than to generate profit. In fact, that is with few exceptions the sole purpose of porn, to generate profit from the perversions of man.

However, were we to look but a little deeper, there are glimmers; bare flickers if you may, of something a little more powerful and primal than mere fornication at work. For example, I am watching a video clip, poorly taped and directed, of what must be the two finest specimens of french arab woman in the world. Anyone watching me observe this video would most likely think that nothing must be in my head other than the thought of two naked women.

They would be wrong.

I am sitting here watching two exquisitely beautiful women, who are naked. One goes down on the other, and her pert caramel coloured breasts quiver in delight, as she exclaims 'Oui, Oui, C'est ça', oblivious to the intrusion of the camera. Indeed, I notice with some interest that she is quite removed from the mortal plane, absolved as she is with the warm and delicate tongue of the woman beneath her flicking around her clit. My eyes move down and see her smooth belly breathing quickly and urgently, and the two dark, steady eyes below watching her from behind a tuft of black hair. They are intense, and filled with a kind of fire that can only come from the pleasure of another's sexual fulfillment by one's self. Oblivious, too, is this slender arab woman, who is obviously indulging herself, taking her sweet time about the task.

The camera man moves to the rear and holds the camera steady, giving an excellent view of her behind. Having a penchant for this most beautiful aspect of any woman, I take her in, analyzing and approving her proportions. Surely, God took his time with this figure, who could have even the Venus De Milo sulking in the corner with envy.

The pace of the other quickens, and more of the beautiful french language is heard, albeit indecipherable. Truly, I think to myself, French was designed with feminine voice in mind, and I observe as the tempo of her breathing reaches higher and higher pitches.

Finally, she is on the very brink of orgasm, le petit mort, (the small death) as I understand it's called in France, and the crest of ecstasy rushes in and out of her like a woman possessed. Few can contest that the sight of a woman having a real, honest to god bedsheet-tearing orgasm is one of the most beautiful of all, and I drink it in as much as the eager woman at her hips, who looks for all the world as content and happy as is possible for a mortal to feel.

Small fragments of reality, these tiny pieces of humanity, are as beautiful and inspiring to me as any great work of art, any timeless song, and any sunrise to date.

Thus, I can only conclude, that even in the cheapest, tackiest porn, sometimes rare insights can be found, analyzed, and appreciated as real beauty, even though they seldom are. Too often, I feel, the female form is lusted after, rather than appreciated for the delicate and beautiful vessel that it is.