I don’t remember how old I was when I first encountered porn. I was young — very young — as were nearly all the men of my generation. We got our first glimpse of the acrobatics, the silicone, the shaved everything, and the drugged-out 20-year-old bounce bounce bouncing away at, on average, 11. Our understanding of sex — what it is, how it works, what makes it good — was shaped years before our first sexual experience with a human woman.
Possibly because of a religious upbringing or a nascent humanism, porn never really grabbed me. But it taught me how to look at women by distilling and supercharging the path that the male gaze is supposed to take.
We look at women differently from how we look at men. Men can be cooed and salivated over, without question, but the judgments are made on a man as a holistically physical being. The phrase…
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