Shooters
Shooters
Badboy
Jay Shaffer
$3.95
Excerpt
“Men read porn,” I tell him like it’s news, “because they want to jack off. They want fantasies. Scenes they can’t imagine for themselves, or scenes they can’t make happen.” Steve’s expression doesn’t change. “They know what it’s like to jack off,” I continue. “They don’t want reality. Give ’em a story about what they do already and nobody’s going to be interested. It’d never sell. So it’d never get printed. It’s economics.” I’m pleased with myself. I feel like a fucking sociologist.
“I’d buy it,” Steve answers. He lifts his mug thoughtfully. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean my explanation.
“Yeah?” I ask. With Steve, I never know anything for sure. “You’d buy the stories?”
“Yeah,” he says. “And I’ll tell you why.” He sets down the mug on exactly the spot where it rested before. “What you are saying here is that masturbation somehow isn’t really sex. The men who buy this stuff want fantasies about reality, or something that could be real sex. That is what it all comes down to, isn’t it? You still with me?” I nod. Steve continues, his tone honing in for a kill. “You are telling me guys beat their meat when they can’t get the real thing. By which you mean they can’t get someone else to get them off. Is that correct?”
“Well, yeah,” I stammer. “This seems obvious.”
“This,” says Steve, “is bullshit.”
My jaw drops. Steve frowns, but he continues.
“Look at it this way. Who do you play with, of everyone you play with, who always gets you off? We are talking, one hundred percent of the time.” I shrug. “You do. It all takes place in your mind anyway. All I am saying is, that’s just fine. You don’t have to shoot for anybody but yourself. Sometimes it’s better to come just to come. You don’t have to worry about anyone’s pleasure but yours. It’s some of the best damned sex I’ve ever had.”
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