Amateur Hour! Adventures in Porno Self-Publishing

Make your own sex-tape, and don't forget to share.

I’ll spare you the play-by-play, but suffice it to say that I soon forgot about my injury. We did a little of this, a little of that, and some of the other thing. We climaxed in sync. It was quite a performance, I must say.

John hopped out of bed and started downloading. Shortly thereafter, I joined him at my desk for the premiere.

As the tape rolled on, John and I cocked our heads and gawked in unison.

The director’s cut ran to 35 minutes. “Solid run time,” I said. “Even if you count the tragic opening.”

“We look pretty good,” he said.

We did.

We made a few edits, and eventually succeeded in getting the film down to a quick and dirty three minutes. With the help of a free video compositing and special effects app called Wax, we then blurred our faces. We were even able to tweak our voices, to better protect the guilty. It was one thing to donate our services to the world at large, but quite another to risk losing our jobs, being gossiped about by our friends, and having some very very awkward conversations with our parents.

We chose a website and followed the instructions to register, which meant listing an email address (fake, of course), confirming that we were 18 or older, and agreeing to the terms of use. Simple as starting an Amazon account!

By the next morning, our video had been approved and posted to the site. John and I monitored the page religiously, notifying each other of any significant upticks in view count. The footage never lost its appeal to us (naturally we both rated it five stars), but what was more interesting was scanning the comments section, an interesting window into the demographic we’d cracked.

“Props on being real you two,” quoth pu$$yluvah. And, from 6tea9, “Way to get down without getting to [sic] dirt-ay.” Most of the comments were more or less favorable (if not always grammatical), save for a remark by an obviously misguided viewer called ProfessorFucking, who wrote, “These Trix ARE for kids,” to which I could only reply, “Eat me, silly rabbit.”

I mean, don’t be a mastur-hater.

As an aphrodisiac, exhibitionism worked wonders. We must have watched that thing 50 times. In retrospect, though, the whole thing probably kept our us together months beyond when we should have called it quits.

As a couple, we may not have made it, but our porno lives on, buried between the tits and asses of strangers, right where it belongs.

“What you been up to?” John said, when we met in the bar. I gripped my wine glass tightly.

“Saving the world,” I said.

melanie.berliet@gmail.com /@melanieberliet

Comments

  1. Henry Baum says:

    This seems like half an article.  “Suddenly, sharing a homemade porn
    with the cyber world seemed as important a societal contribution as
    recycling.”  Yeah, that’s funny, and there are ways that exhibitionism
    can be healthy, and maybe it’s ripping away taboos so that sex becomes
    the normal thing it is, but online porn also seems like the product of a
    desperate kind of narcissism – something that’s getting more rampant in
    the culture, which isn’t exactly healthy. To claim as cover that this
    is all healthy is really putting blinders on, but maybe that’s the only
    way you can think public fucking is a good idea.