“So, did you hear that what’s her face made a sex tape?” Sara said.
“No, you know,” Sara said, hoping my middle-aged brain would know what hers obviously couldn’t remember.
“No, Gaga’s celibate, remember?”
“Oh, right,” I said halfheartedly because, honestly, I have no interest in celebrities. But I tossed out every name I could think of because that’s what good friends have to do sometimes. “Lindsay? Paris? Angelina? Kate? Heidi?”
“There are, like, 500 Kardashians, and I couldn’t tell one from the other, thankfully. But, what exactly did it help her become famous at? Screwing?
“If Ashleigh made a sex tape, I’d disown her,” Sara said, skirting the issue. “What about you?”
“I would be very surprised if there was a sex tape of Trent floating out there. I don’t even think the poor kid’s gotten laid yet.”
“No, I mean you. Have you made a sex tape?”
“Me? No way! I mean, I think I haven’t.”
“Kat, I would think you’d pretty much know if you did, don’t you?”
Yeah, one would think. But with the technology nowadays, when you’re goofing around with a boyfriend, you never really know what’s going on — or where it will end up — do you?
Like the time I was over Ryan’s house, the somewhat geeky dot-com entrepreneur I dated for a while. We’d slipped into his bed and I noticed there was an eerie light coming from his bedroom closet.
“What’s that” I asked, snuggling under the covers.
“Just some things I have plugged in.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to sound cool with it; he was a techie, after all. But I couldn’t help but wonder why the closet door was slightly ajar.
So I called him on it.
“Are you filming us having sex?”
“No, why?” he said, with just a bit of huffiness in his voice.
I didn’t want to make an issue of it, so I decided to get on with the evening’s, uh, agenda.
When that relationship ended, I started seeing Van. One day, after making a lovely meal together, we got naked and made our way to his hot tub when he began to hoist his movie camera onto a tripod.
“What are you doing?”
“I thought it would be fun to watch us on the TV.”
“You’re not going to film us!”
“No, just projecting us,” he said as he kissed me with his soft lips, which just made me melt, and I didn’t think too much about it.
Do I expect to find my naked body gyrating on the Internet for anyone to see … and for free?
And now I feel kind of foolish for not paying a little bit more attention — and also for not fully trusting Ryan and Van.
Not that a have a problem with porn.
Anyone who’s read this blog knows I’m no prude!
I certainly wouldn’t have any objection to making a home porn tape with my lover either, as long as the emphasis was on home, as in staying at home.
And it got destroyed if we broke up.
But having it go viral?
No thank you, even if it meant I’d be “famous.” I can think of other ways I’d seek fame.
However, when I watched that sex tape of Colin Farrell and Nicole Narain, I just couldn’t help thinking, “What a lame blow job — even I can do better than that.” (Ah, if only Colin would give me a chance!)
Hmm, maybe I’m missing my true calling …
- Have you made home porn?
- Ever worry if you’ll find it on the Internet?
Photo © Maciej Mamro – Fotolia.com