Porn: It’s Not What It Used To Be

I wanted to call the first section “Porn for 15-Year-Olds”, because then it would have been a perfect 10 year gap between each of the ages, but…well….. yeah.  No.

Anyways.


Porn for 19-year-olds:


And then McStudface Handsomepants pulled Falina BigBosom into his strongly muscled arms, sliding a hand down the taut curve of her waist as his mouth trapped hers.  Desire exploded between them, passion igniting their flesh as they molded their bodies together. Despite the fact they dangled from harnesses hundreds of feet in the air and wind tore at their clothes as the rescue helicopter flew them to safety, they were so c
aught up in the feel of each other they were unaware of anything else. Neither of them noticed as last of the bombs exploded in the distance,  decimating the entire village of evil politicians and complacent, materialistic adults.

Falina BigBosom had always known she was born for something special, but she’d never dreamed she would single-handedly cure cancer by ridding the world of every bad guy ever born… there would be peace on earth now.  The word was finally saved, not that she was thinking about her heroism right then… all that mattered was the feel of the McStudFace Handomepants pressed against her and the way his touch lit her body on  fire….





Porn for 25-year-olds:

And then I found a one bedroom apartment for the same price as my old studio, and it allows pets with no deposit… oh, yeah…. no deposits, and no breed or size restrictions.  Yeah, baby, that’s right… this means I can work less hours and still have savings.

I’m just gonna say that again, with a little heavier breathing..  Lean over and let me whisper it into your ear.  Saaaaaviiiiiiiingggs.  Oh, yeaaaah….Mmmm.

I’m gonna take it even further….the apartment comes with a parking space and a built-in washer and dryer, right there in the house… Mmmmm, No parking tickets, and dat washer/dryer right in the house….. any time I need to, I can just wash my clothes in the comfort and safety of my own apartment… oh, yeah.    I’m gonna wash them… I’m gonna wash those dirty clothes so hard….




Porn for 35-year-olds:

Wait… what?  You’re switching our insurance plan over to government benefits?  $10 emergency room copays, and that’s all it will ever cost us?   WHAT?  The benefits include a vision, dental, and one of those sweet retirement plans where they force you to retire early but keep paying you a salary anyways? AND you’re giving me a promotion and a raise?  AND you’re going to pay for me and the whole family to do a 6 month tour of South America, Europe and Asia, just to get a better feel for the international side of the business?  




Porn for Moms:

The afternoon breeze lifts the sheer curtains, bringing with it the scent of salt and sea.  The french doors are open, the veranda overlooking an empty stretch of beach – deserted stretches of sand, sea and the occasional palm tree, as far as the eye could see.  The island is empty, and it should have been lonely, but the dull crash of the crystalline waves against the sandy shore is soothing in the near silence. 

I step back into my room, my body aching from the hours of early morning swimming, my skin tingling from the hours I spent in the sun – hours that magically tanned my skin without giving me any wrinkles or skin cancer.  I’m clean – scrubbed with expensive bath products I’ve never used before, so my hair is doing that soft, frizzless thing that it only does when I take a shower at someone else’s house.  Silky strands slip around my bare shoulders as I pull on a comfortable tank top… a tank top that doesn’t need a bra but still manages to hold up my boobs so they don’t sag and make me feel gross . Despite the heat of the day the room is cool – minimalist in nature, yet still opulent.  The floors are clean, the walls are clean, everything is clean, and I didn’t have to lift a single finger to make it that way.   A wide-bladed fan rotates lazily over a giant, double king size bed with cool, white sheets and a cool white comforter.  There must be an air conditioner, not that I can hear it over the steady sound of the waves and soothing silence – how else would the room be so cold?

I slip into bed, goose bumps dancing over my arms at the initial chill as I huddle beneath the blankets. What time is it?  What day is it?  I don’t know.  I can sleep as late, and as long as I want, because somewhere, in some magical laboratory, some scientist has linked how much I rest with with how intelligent and well-behaved my children will be.  How many days in a row have I napped?  I have no idea, but at this rate, my boys are going to be the Mother Theresas of the Mensa Society.  And as my eyelids close and I slip into sleep, my last thought is of nothing – nothing at all.  There is only the dim, clean room, the afternoon breeze, and the sound of the sea in my dreams.




By request:

Porn for Women with Grown Children:

The dress hugs my body, clinging tightly to my slim hips and tight rear.  I crane my neck as I twist to see myself in the mirror.  The scoop back dips low, almost too low, exposing the smooth skin of my shoulder blades and the firm curve of my  waist, but it stops short of impropriety.  The material is silky and thin, sliding over my skin.  I run a hand down the side of my hip, and twist the other way, making sure everything is just right before I step into my heels.  As I do so, I breathe a sigh of relief. My feet hurt after the six days of camping and hiking I just finished – sure, I slept great on my thin sleeping bag spread over the ground, and I awoke refreshed each night with my neck and back feeling like I’d just finished an hour with a masseuse…. but in retrospect, maybe I shouldn’t have gone backpacking in the Mongolian wilderness the day after I earned a new personal record at the Ironman Triathalon.  I know I have endless amounts of energy and almost no need for sleep, but still.  Even I have limits.

I wiggle my toes and give a happy little moan.  My feet feel incredible in these heels.  What would I do without my orthotic heels, that both massage your feet even as they tone your legs and remove cellulite?  The longer you wore them, the higher the heel, the more toned your legs and butt became and the better your feet felt… if there was a downside, I hadn’t found one.  I glance at myself in the mirror again, at the way the silky dress hugs my skin, hiding nothing – not that there’s anything to hide.  I shake my head in awe.

When the company my children founded discovered how to manipulate genes and create an anti-aging serum…. well, I’d say the information was priceless, but since I had bought stock in the very beginning, as a gazillionaire I can definitely assure you it had a price.  It was amazing to have my teenage body back – all that energy, supple joints and smooth, perfect skin.  I’d missed the feeling of joints that weren’t tired, of being able to hop out of bed without any aches or pains straight onto feet that didn’t feel like there were needles being shoved through them.  It was just a shame, really, that the drug only seemed to work for women, and only women who had begun to experience pre-menopause symptoms. Hot flashes were now a cause for celebration, and something you looked forward to with all the excitement of a child waiting for Disneyland to open.  It was a shame it didn’t work on men, … but honestly, after decades of menstrual cycles and the “joy” of pregnancy and childbirth, it seemed only fair.

I glanced at my watch and bit back a yelp.  Crap!  If I didn’t leave right now I was going to be late to the ceremony for my daughter, and how embarrassing would that be?  After all, they only award the Nobel Peace Prize once a year….

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3 thoughts on “Porn: It’s Not What It Used To Be

  1. You were spot on…until it came to the grown kids part.
    — She opened the envelope with trembling hands. She skimmed the note and collapsed into a chair. Was it real, or another cruel joke? After all this time was her fantasy coming true?
    “Dear Mom,
    I found a job. It comes with full benefits and a company car. The only drawback is it's in the Bahama's, but you can use my frequent flyer miles to visit whenever you want. I can never thank you enough for letting me live in the basement until I was 30. Here's a little something, even though it barely scrapes the surface.I love you Mom.” A check for $10,000 fluttered to the floor. A low moan escaped her lips as her soul soared.

    Like

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