Porn Intended

Hola Bitches!

I recently text dumped a nagging hook up who wanted to take things to the next level (Like what even? How is it so difficult for anyone to understand when I say, “I only want the sex”? ), anyway,  I am pretty annoyed to even talk about boys this week. So I decided to take a ‘Guy’atus and talk about other interesting stuff that involves sex, and thankfully, doesn’t involve men. If you are taking “pride” in painting a “rainbow” hue to this, I wont deter you…. however, that is not what I meant. If you still didn’t get me, then please discontinue reading and choose between going back to the twelfth century or spending your vacation in Shirdi. Moving on, to the ones who guessed it right : Well, sisterhood is proud of you!

Yes ladies, let’s talk about porn and masturbation!

My earliest memory of fondling myself was when I was in fifth grade. Yes, go ahead and judge me but I totally owe my precocious sexual development a great deal because that’s the reason why my sex life is way better than most people in this country. But unfortunately, that was also the time before the greatest invention in human history - Youporn, was born. So I used to collect scraps of condom ads from my mum’s old collection of Cosmo and store it in the deepest darkest corners of my study draw. These condom ads usually featured a buxom hottie with ample cleavage eating grapes. Anyway, as lame as it may seem, that image did turn me on. In the land of the pornographically challenged, one scantily clad woman is the King, believe it or not! I also had pictures of the same woman dripping with chocolate sauce, eating a banana, strawberry, apple, etc. which made me wonder if she is supposed to turn me on or remind me that I am late for breakfast. Everyday, after my morning shower I used to lock myself up in my room in the pretext of getting ready. Thankfully, my school uniform had more parts than a Lego castle, which helped me justify my long absence. Just like all Indian parents, my parents too used to freak out whenever I latched my room door because privacy is a sin which cannot be exercised in this virtuous country. Therefore, my nakedness was the only excuse I could give them to have a private moment with my own body. 

By the time I was in high school, my parents got us a PC and it opened the Altars of Consexcration. This is where I solemnly pledged my devotion to the likes of James Deen and Kiara Mia. As I started worshipping my deities with increasing rigour and faith, they started granting my wishes through pop up ads that started popping up everywhere. I was too technologically dyslexic to figure out where the browser history is and so I predicted trouble coming my way. One day, my dad was checking his mails when, a huge penis appeared on screen and started flexing its muscles. “Tired of a small penis?” It  posed a question to my dad. One should never question an Indian male’s masculinity, after all they are the “only” reason why we are a nation of a billion people. My dad literally “stood up” to challenge the PCs irreverence in questioning his masculinity and punched the computer’s screen and started checking the browser history. As I stood there slyly, I saw the monstrosity of my sins scrolling in a never ending trail. “Noooo….That’s my Horniest’s Nest, Please stay away” I mind screamed. In actuality, I just stood there with my mind frozen, heart thumping like a rock concert, contemplating if my parents might also be able to hear it and praying they don't.

Now, lets pause for a bit as I have a question for all the 90s kids. Do you guys remember playing Super Mario? Yes, the game in which you assume the role of an uncle with a creepy moustache to combat the Koopa Troopas endlessly only to realise you can never rescue the Princess, once again proving that fairytales don’t exist, even in video games. But keeping that aside, do you guys remember the magic bricks in Super Mario? The bricks that may give you a sudden surge in life, that one last hope to save yourself. Yes! even at that time of panic, one magic brick caught my eye. After watching porn, your computer is like a crime scene. Every person’s taste in porn is like a finger print, unique and inimitable. My magic brick was - Aletta Ocean. I know her, have heard her name but never watched her porno because I don't like skinny chicks. 

As soon as the realisation hit me, I turned around and saw my brother!

We were twinning with the same expression and our minds started playing 'Who wore best?'. We mentally hi fived each other and felt a little relieved. My dad turned around and did not even bother to look at me which in my opinion is a damn sexist move. He walked up to my brother and sait to him in a stern tone “Go study”.

Really? That’s it?

Naturally, my brother took the entirety of the blame and got away with it because hey, he is a “man”. That day, I got to know that I wasn’t even a possible suspect for porn viewing. Because how can a woman have sexuaI feelings right? Isn’t she supposed to be a virgin until her wedding night and even after that only perform 'the act' for procreation? For a change, to my younger self patriarchy felt nice. I could watch all the porn I want because I have a male sibling to take the blame.

I have always hated my parents for deciding to have another kid just like any other first born. But from that day onwards, I didn’t. Sometimes we need boys too ladies!


IN SERVICE OF SISTERHOOD, BY VAGELINA JOLLY