I remember the first time I saw two men getting it on. Funny, how you can remember those things. The movie was grainy, the image was not perfect, the men were not the shiny, plucked, beefed up studs you see in porn today. The guys looked pretty 'normal' and the movie was actually old. But the thrill was there.
I remember as if it were yesterday how my breath caught in my throat, how my body tingled, how I felt flushed, elated, slightly dizzy. How I could not wait to be alone with myself and replay in my head what I have just seen them do. I couldn't wait to repeat what I had just seen. How I discovered that there were many other people doing the same thing I had been doing at my friends' houses when their parents were not there. Those moments I had spent with older boys in the woods, feeling the smell of the rain in the air and walking back home with my body on fire.
So I guess that's why I find vintage porn so alluring. It was the freedom, the lust, the no-holds-barred joy of sex for the sake of sex. I imagine one becomes nostalgic when those feelings are no longer present and become idealized and romanticized. I guess that's why I like amateur porn so much. Because it recalls those moments when I felt on fire, alive, blazing my way through life. Convinced that it was all about me and my body and that around every corner there was a whole new world to discover and enjoy. And that that world most certainly had a man's name.