A minister friend has to wait to go home to look at porn because his office computer is monitored. How then, I wondered, does he make it through the work day?
Sex, like coffee and the crossword, is a way of getting through the day. Years ago, at a job I particularly hated, I used to jerk off in the office washroom and leave the cum on the floor, hoping the boss would get stuck in the stickiness.
I know this isn’t exactly a hearts-and-lollipops view of human sexuality but then how often do you want to get up close and personal with the mad, bad god of priapic lust? Sex is an odd little world and it sometimes takes you places you’d rather not know. Look too closely at your own little quirks and you may find some disquieting desires.
One day, for instance, I found myself screaming into a friend’s voicemail: “What kind of world is it when Corbin Fisher won’t update his straight-boy porn more than once or twice a week?”
Corbin Fisher is of course one of the innumerable sites offering ostensibly straight “college boys” doing themselves and each other for the greater glory of the gay libido. Each site has its quirks. The very slick Sean Cody (Seancody.com) offers big, butch guys doing it on designer sheets. Fisher (Corbinfisher.com) seems to specialize in smaller, more compact muscle gods. (He also seems to have a thing for feet, but that’s another story.) I don’t bother with the video downloads (they cost money) so for all I know the actors could be lisping between takes. But they sure look straight, especially when they’re getting fucked. The grimace on their faces reminds me of this year’s best new T-shirt slogan, “It hurts.”
I like visiting these sites. For me, it’s a little like watching daytime soaps. Almost every day there’s a new story, a new twist and a fun new character to stir up the locals here in happy-valley land. Just like on the soaps, things happen slowly. Months can go by between Johnny (or more likely Cody, Gabe, Dakota or Palmer) doing a solo vid and making his gay sex debut. It takes some convincing (read “cash”) before the boys will throw their legs in the air. But there’s an undeniable narrative urgency to the admittedly sporadic storylines. One day Kurt is a pure country boy with a girlfriend, a small child and a battered pick-up truck. The next he’s advanced in his “CF education” and is twisting his butt on some guy’s cock.
The character development is exemplary and Fisher’s insights are always deeply informed. “As his thick cock… plugged deep in straight stud Logan’s ass and his face… washed with pleasure,” writes Fisher, “I could tell… he was on a journey of self-discovery.”
Fisher tends to be a bit coy about the technology behind his videos. How and why do you get a straight guy to go gay for pay? What kind of mental hoops do these guys have to jump through? Fisher hints at cash and off-stage “titty” porn, but ignores the more interesting question of psychology. Still, it’s probably easier to explain the models’ motivations than our own. Why, after all, are we sitting at home watching straight guys fuck?
Like drag and diva-worship, this sort of thing was supposed to have died out with the rise of gay lib. Pursuing straight guys was just too self-hating, a remnant of a time when out gay sex was both denigrated and hard to find. Why bother with “trade” or the really dismaying “rough trade” when out gay men are so freely available?
Still, it’s probably not surprising that the icky old dynamic is still around. Whether in porn or real life, seducing straight guys is a way of taking your revenge on all the guys who rejected you in high school, university, the gym or – well, the sad, sorry list goes on and on. Rejection leaves its mark and we resolve it by eroticizing our revenge.
Sean Cody and company tackle the task with gusto but Gore Vidal got there first and funnier, with his savage 1968 novel, Myra Breckinridge. Ostensibly about overpopulation and gender roles, Vidal’s comedy is really a roiling revenge fantasy pure and simple. A gay boy’s revenge fantasy. A sort of “take that!” to any straight boy who ever sneered at you.
At the novel’s famous climax, Vidal’s titular heroine, a campy queer in an Amazon’s body, takes her revenge on men by humiliating a straight stud named Rusty. She strips him, mocks his manhood and finishes him off with a foot-long dildo. One of the great moments in gay literature, it’s a very creepy scene. It’s also very, very erotic.
Few of us, though, have the option of eroticizing our angst in the pages of a best-selling book. For us, there’s only Corbin Fisher.
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