What Girls Are Really Thinking While Watching Porn

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“Baby,” she moans, as her naked body arches up while her hot, dripping sweat reflects in the poor, artificial lighting. Her hand grasps at the pillow, sheets, whatever props they gave her to hold onto. “Yes! Oh my God, right there. Yes!” she screams, verbatim from the script.

“Holy shit, this is amazing,” you think to yourself, as you watch the final production from your dirty bedsheets that probably haven’t been washed since you bought them at Stein Mart.

Naked, sweaty bodies bouncing against each other, bodily fluids, and ill-timed talkers: it’s the romantic art of our time. It may even be considered pop art, as the end result resembles a Jackson Pollock more than anything else. Basically, porn is more socially accepted and easier to obtain than ever.

The only thing hard to obtain about porn is the mystical creature commonly known as the “girl who enjoys watching porn.” I’m all for sex. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I’ll shout it from the rooftop: I enjoy sex. A lot. I will Dr. Seuss the fuck out of some sex, here, there, anywhere. And, while I’m all about having it, watching it is a different story. There are plenty of women out there who watch it, but we get a completely different pleasure from it. It’s not a sexual pleasure, though that may be what we tell ourselves while opening up that private tab in Safari that later gets deleted and we pretend it never happened. It is a judgmental, play-by-play breakdown of every move, every moan, and every molecule that’s lighting up our cell phone screens. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

  • If this is one of those websites that won’t let me exit out of it later, I’m just going to go use my upgrade and get a new iPhone.
  • How open to a threesome does this make me if I watch one?
  • My limit is page three. If I have to go to page three to find something even somewhat decent looking, I’ll let this ship sail.
  • Jesus, those acrylic nails deserve their own TLC special.
  • Who just randomly walks around in a neon green spandex tube top? Bitch, it’s Tuesday.
  • Like, who says, “Yes, this outfit will definitely get me laid today. Let’s wear it”?
  • More importantly, who says, “Oh, that’s a really nice, blindingly bright tube top you’ve got there. Wanna touch my penis?”
  • This guy showed up to work today and hated his life just as much as the rest of the American workforce did, didn’t he?
  • How do people get off to that face? The guy banging her doesn’t even want to be a part of this.
  • I wonder what a case of the Mondays is in the porn industry. Syphilis? A yeast infection? Chafing?
  • I don’t understand how she hasn’t knocked herself out yet. Give that girl a sports bra! Maybe a Nike sponsorship.
  • Why are you trying to talk to her right now? Can’t you see that her mouth is a little busy?
  • WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO RESPOND? It’s like I’m at the fucking dentist right now.
  • She’s enjoying zero percent of that blow job. I bet she’s parched.
  • Are porn companies like pro sports? Do you think they’re more of a Gatorade or a Powerade company?
  • Her mouth says, “fuck me harder,” but her face says she hates everything.
  • I wish I had her thighs. And her eyebrows, if we’re being honest right now.
  • Is she…? Yep, that’s anal. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry about everything happening to you right now.
  • I bet pooping is going to be so weird for you later.
  • Why is his dick two completely different colors?
  • She hates that your hand is on her head right now.
  • Fucking. Hates. It.
  • You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t go rogue and bite that thing off. Move your hand, man.
  • Stop it! Tits are an attached body part. Oh my God, it’s like having sympathy pains.
  • Well, let’s be real here, the chances she can actually feel that are probably slim, anyway.
  • I wonder what their safe word is. I think mine would “sandwich.” Or “mimosa.”
  • Excuse me, but the clitoris is one small area, sir, and that is not it.
  • In real life, she’s just wishing you would finish because there’s a “Sex and the City” marathon on somewhere right now.
  • Oh, look at that. Dreams really do come true.
  • Nooo! You don’t understand–those are fake lashes!
  • And now she’s blind. Fucking great.
My state gave you J. Law, Clooney, two-fifths of the Backstreet Boys, and multiple fifths of bourbon. I gave you a cover letter using Brian McKnight lyrics. Psuedo-adult by day; PGP, TFM, and TSM contributor by night. Please don't ask me to do math.

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