My sex tape.

The idea was born when I was working on my list of 1000 wishes – every day my body decays so better record it sooner than later, right? (I want to make one to have one, not make one to publish it here when the page views go really low.)

What pushed me to actually take action was seemingly unrelated filming one morning in my bedroom. I needed some footage to supplement what I already had  and make a film out of it. So I invited my friend to press record button. We kept the camera rolling while having a smoke break and we caught a brilliant conversation and a proof that we do indeed smoke. It felt natural and I actually forgotten the presence of  any recording devices.

I was hoping that the same would work out in Biker Guys place this weekend. We talked about it during my last visit and I felt 100% up for it – doing it in front of mirrows had always turned me on, so why not place the camera there?

I arrived  late after waiting for a Guy I Like to text, but since he considers me just a girl that screws people at parties, on the bathroom floor after taking coke, of course he didn’t. (I don’t blame him- screwing him at a party on the bathroom floor after taking coke might have established that impression.)

We had some wine and greenlit the idea as a main point of the entertainment program of our Saturday night – and that’s the point it got real and I started to freak out.

In the first year of my course we had a couple of lectures on how film crew or simply the awareness being recorded changes the behaviour of the subject. That’s why documentaries with air of naturalism are so unique and hard to get. Turns out  the same applies to bedroom videos.

-          -Do you want to show off your blow job skills now?

No. I didn’t want to show off anything. All wanted was to capture how good we are together, but the truth was – in front of that camera we weren’t any good.

I admitted failure and had a smoke in the kitchen.

-Remember, you’ve once introduced me to your flogs…

-Yeah..?

-Yeah.

We’ve moved to his playroom and left the camera behind. The best fucking decision of my life.

Getting back to the sex tape - one day I am gonna go there. Not just yet. 

Maybe it’s about to be the same kind of slowly developing friendship as the one with giving blowjobs?

The down side is: becoming a Porn Star (yes, with Capital Letters) was my plan C if writing and life modeling wouldn’t work out and after this weekend – I really need a  new plan C.

Cinderella in Disney Land Paris maybe?