Last Friday, I was about to post a short promotional clip from a HungPOV video. In the excerpt I had chosen, shot in POV, our British Hung pulls his dick out of the gorgeous Tori Cummings and immediately slips it into the stunning Tania Amazon, who is touching herself right beside them while waiting for her turn. I was going to caption it with something like: “Whoa, fucking Tori while knowing Tania and her huge tits are right there waiting for their turn, what a fucking dream.” And while writing it, I obviously imagined myself in Hung’s place, casually switching between these two extraordinary MILFs. And then I thought: no, man. You don’t want it to be reduced to just that. Because I could have said something else. Look at their faces. Listen to those little sounds of pleasure. Admire those silicone breasts that look like they were designed by a team of particularly inspired designers who were probably high on coke. Tania Amazon and Tori Cummings, guys. These two extraordinary women make porn. For the price of two McDonald’s meals, you can watch them happily fucking in 4K on a 65-inch TV. That alone is fucking wonderful. There is something almost miraculous about having such a spectacle so easily available to us. But that isn’t where my brain went. It immediately translated the scene into: “We’d all love to be in his place, wouldn’t we?” And when I look at the comments under my posts, I often see exactly the same thing: “I wish that were me.” That sentence interests me more and more, because a large part of modern porn has spent decades getting better and better at putting us precisely there. Feature films told stories. Gonzo gradually stripped the story away and simply showed us sex. POV removed the male character and replaced him with our eyes. Then VR pushed that logic even further, trying to convince our senses that we were actually inside the scene. At every step, the distance between fantasy and reality got a little smaller. Then one day you buy a VR headset. You watch a woman in stereoscopic 3D just inches from your face and, visually, the illusion is genuinely impressive. Two hours later, you open X and discover that the same woman will be doing an escort tour in your city the following month. $400, two hours. And an awkward question appears: why am I jerking off to a simulation in which I’m having sex with this woman if, for an amount of money I personally consider affordable, I could actually have sex with her? I’m not saying everyone thinks this way. I’m not saying escorting is the inevitable destination of pornography either. I’m simply saying that when the entire visual language of a format is built to make you believe that you are the man fucking the woman on screen, reality eventually starts competing with fantasy. And we played a big part in that. We, the consumers. For years, we fast-forwarded through the comedy scenes, the dialogue and the introductions because our wives had gone grocery shopping and we had eight minutes to cum. We sent producers an extremely clear message: don’t bother telling us anything, just show us the penetration. I remember that era very well. On one side, you had guys like Mario Salieri, Gerard Damiano or Joe D’Amato still trying to build images, atmospheres, sometimes even actual movies. On the other, you had four-hour DVDs soberly titled Anal Explosion 24. Ten scenes. Zero context. Picture quality like footage from a family dinner recorded on your father-in-law’s camcorder. You skipped straight to scene six because the girl had huge tits, click-click, you came, wiped yourself off and turned GTA III back on. And let’s be honest: it worked. That is precisely the problem with POV. Not that it works badly. Quite the opposite. It works too well. Its entire purpose is to remove the male character and put you in his place. You’re no longer watching Hung fuck Tania. For a few minutes, the visual language asks you to become Hung. Virtually, you are fucking Tania. What emotion is this format better designed to produce than: I want to fuck Tania? I’m obviously not pretending I’m above any of this. Luke Longly’s TabooHeat videos with Kat Marie are probably among the videos I’ve jerked off to the most in recent years. They’re technically very well made, Kat is fabulous, and the POV does exactly what it was designed to do. Five minutes later, I explode. But that efficiency comes at a cost. The more successfully porn projects me into the performer’s body, the more easily desire becomes projection. Then projection becomes wanting. Sometimes wanting becomes frustration. Sometimes even a form of jealousy. The fantasy gradually stops being about a scene and shifts toward access to the woman. And this is where fiction offers something unique. Let’s go back to those exact twenty seconds with Tori and Tania. Same women, same bodies, same sex. But now imagine the film has spent twenty minutes setting up a situation. Victorian England. A large house. Decent lighting. Costumes that aren’t perfect, but believable enough for us to go along with it. Tori is the maid our young husband has secretly been sleeping with for months because he is absurdly intimidated by the beauty of his new wife, Tania. Tania knows. She watches them. She is jealous, fascinated, increasingly aroused. An hour into the film, we finally arrive at our twenty seconds. He is fucking Tori. Tania watches them while touching herself. Then our young man finally gathers his courage, pulls out of Tori and penetrates his wife. There you go. My script is obviously shit. It took me twenty seconds to invent. Who cares? What matters is that suddenly the exact same penetration is doing several things at once. I look at Tania and still find her incredibly beautiful. The scene still turns me on. I can still jerk off to it perfectly well, thank you very much. But now I also understand why this moment matters. I know these characters. I understand Tania’s jealousy, the husband’s hesitation, Tori’s place in their relationship. The penetration is no longer just an anatomical event filmed in 4K. It means something. And that is what seems essential to me: narrative has taken absolutely nothing away from the masturbatory efficiency of the scene. It has simply added another dimension. Maybe that’s where porn went wrong. For years, we treated everything surrounding penetration like useless fat that needed to be cut in the edit. Yet in any other cinematic genre, nobody watches Jaws and complains that Spielberg wastes too much time with Brody and Quint instead of just showing us the shark for two hours. The shark works precisely because something has been built around it. Why should sex be any different? Think about the films of Tinto Brass, one of the masters of Italian erotic cinema. Every brief but frontal glimpse of a vagina feels like a precious little gift, then the explicit shots gradually multiply and linger, the excitement keeps building, and eventually, when you feel it coming, you explode. And it’s great. And I’m not saying every porn movie necessarily needs to become a two-hour epic with costumes and some neurotic screenwriter. There are other ways to create fantasy. SCORE comes from photography, where the image itself can be enough. Andrew Blake, Christophe Mourthé or Hervé Bodilis showed that a body, lighting, framing, atmosphere and music can create something without needing an elaborate plot. Sites in the Brazzers tradition use another formula, a few minutes of context to give the scene some shape while keeping the sex completely central. And then there are still more ambitious productions that decide to build sets, costumes, characters and entire worlds, like Digital Playground, which has the audacity to release some productions in 2.39:1 CinemaScope. Fucking classy. Of course, having Pornhub money behind you probably makes it easier to produce films at a loss. All of these approaches can work. What bothers me is the idea that porn’s natural evolution should necessarily lead toward more directness, more immersion, more reality. Porn does not need to become more real in order to become more exciting. Fiction creates distance, yes. But that distance is not necessarily an obstacle to desire. Sometimes it is precisely where desire breathes. It allows anticipation, mystery, transgression, context. It allows an actress to become a character instead of simply being herself with fewer clothes on. It allows penetration to become an event rather than a technical demonstration of what your own dick is supposedly doing. And above all, fiction makes the world bigger again. The moment we stop assuming that porn’s ultimate purpose is to reproduce a real sexual experience as accurately as possible, everything becomes available again. Victorian England. New York under the snow in 1983. A lost motel in Arizona in 1978. Film noir. Science fiction. Horror. Comedy. A love story. Three 34J goddesses stranded on Neptune trying to save humanity through orgasms while debating Stoic philosophy... We have spent thirty years perfecting the art of showing a dick going into a pussy. Congratulations, everyone, we’ve mastered that perfectly now. I don’t want POV to disappear. I don’t want gonzo to disappear. I don’t want VR to disappear. I’ll keep watching all of it. I just want porn to remember that the shortest possible distance between my eyes and a woman’s body is not necessarily the most interesting one. Sometimes a little distance gives desire somewhere to live. I’d like creators to have the courage to apply that idea. The courage to break some of the codes that have gradually become cages, to refuse to reduce porn to its strictly functional purpose, to an ever more direct, ever more immersive stimulation machine that can sometimes end up producing as much frustration as pleasure. There is still so much left to invent. Worlds, characters, situations, images, fantasies we never thought we would actually get to see come alive. Sex does not need to become less explicit, less raw or less effective. It can simply be more than that. It can turn us on while surprising us, make us cum while taking us somewhere else.

Have you noticed that our friend Max has very similar tastes to ours? The gentleman seems to have a thing for huge tits! Like here, with the wonderful Mariza. ⭐️@Mariza_Rabbit 🎦@MaxFillsYouUp ▶️manyvids.com/Video/5907078/s… #marizarabbit #maxfills