The question: "Why do you want to be a male pornstar?". I don't really, but good fucking God, I love women. And I found your salon.com article on the topic fascinating, as well as sexy in some parts. I felt compelled to write a response, even if it is a bit tangential, as I find there's usually no harm in connecting thoughts and ideas.
In my mid and late 20's, I was in the best shape of my life. I trained gymnastics and bodyweight exercises for fun, and I could hold a planche, legs straight, body even to the ground. But ironically, that time of my life when I was in my best shape I remained mostly celibate. I simply lacked the most important trait needed for quality conversation, dating, and romantic interludes: confidence. I was confident in my physical ability, confident in other endeavors, but I never could wrap my head around real all-encompassing life confidence. Regardless, I've always been something of a problem solver, and I wasn't going to simply accept my state of being as eternally mandated. So like with any troubleshooting adventure, I went back to the basics--back to what I knew. I knew I was reasonably decent looking, I knew I loved women, and I knew I wasn't going to turn into a bitter asshole like so many men I've known.
I knew that having a solid basis for a new beginning was essential. I wanted a firm foundation on which to lay each new brick of experience. So I asked myself the very simple question, "What do you really want?". Did I want a relationship? Just sex? Maybe some casual mixture of the two in short-term dating adventures? It turned out none of those were precise enough of an answer for my tastes. So after further contemplation, I started thinking about what really made me happy in every day situations. And the one image that sprung forth in my mind was a smile. Not my own, although surely I did smile quite a lot, but rather it was that exquisitely beautiful feminine smile that I did not get to witness nearly as often as I liked. And those images of smiles to me were like a big bag of Jelly Belly's, eliciting cravings for a myriad of different flavors. There was the gentle smile in passing by a woman I didn't know at all. There were the bright smiles when I said something that made a woman truly happy. There where the smiles that were just residual from laughter at a good joke. And especially there were those erotic smiles, the ones I didn't know very well from my own experiences, but ones I had seen in the faces of female porn actresses when actors like James Deen were performing with them. Perhaps these actresses were simply matchless in their craft, but I chose to believe that the majority of them (if not all) were truly enjoying themselves at the hands of their well-selected masculine counterparts. The smiles I saw from these women as they approached such visceral climaxes were sublime, as if Himeros was dripping sweat from exhaustion and each drop of sweat was a divine note that played a melody on each fair lady's skin. The shakes of their glowing feminine bodies as every little sensory impulse went through their electrified minds, all firing back messages to the tiny control muscles of the face to create those heavenly facial expressions and smiles, were a joy to witness. To put it simply, I loved watching women orgasm, and I loved my sweet memories of the few times I had made women orgasm. But more broadly, I just loved seeing them enjoy themselves. Nothing was ever a bigger turn-on to me than a woman glowing, shaking, and cumming in the most intense way she could muster. I'm sure that's one reason why Cytherea remains one of my favorite performers.
All that said, as a few years passed and I entered my 30's, I let go of the notion of trying to academically figure out the keys to confidence. As time had taught me, it simply came from experience, from being bold, and from always coming back to the plate with a good attitude. I'm no longer in the great shape I was in in my 20's, but my mind feels in better shape than ever. I'm more relaxed, more willing to talk to a stranger, and more comfortable traveling down the unknown conversational roads that lead to those beautiful smiles. While I'm no stud, I've learned that I don't really need to be to enjoy this life. I'll leave the stud moves to Mr. Deen, who I believe like me, loves women and loves seeing them enjoy themselves. He's got his life, and I've got mine, and I think a lot of men who want to be him miss out on the simple joys of life while chasing fantasies of porn and casual sex. They miss out because they don't take the time to realize it doesn't matter whether the world thinks they're studs or whether they have jobs where they can get their rocks off every day. I believe the real essence of masculinity is in enjoying the ever-intriguing presence of the feminine, in seeking her mysterious array of transcendent smiles, and in loving the gifted moments we do have when, after a long coupling of two bodies, both glistening with sweat and majestic indifference to the outside world, we can both collapse, skin-to-skin, nude, happy, soulful, and riding through the impending dream world in starlit bliss.
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