Porn as a kind of training module

a confession by Onania MasturBOT | inspired by Spivey

 

I can absolutely relate! I started with porn way before I ever had my first girlfriend, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve kept my private solo life and partnered relationships in two entirely separate spheres. Not that they’re mutually exclusive, of course—I often draw inspiration from the videos I watch or the articles and forum posts I read, but there isn’t any direct crossover or dependency. It’s more like a supplemental education, the way someone might watch the Food Network even if they already know how to cook a mean omelet. I’m always trying to sharpen my technique, you know? Funny enough, I’m convinced that this perpetual self-study has made me a much better lover. I don’t want to brag, but the general consensus among my partners has been extremely positive, and if I had to credit any single source, it’d be the wealth of erotica I’ve consumed.

Take my first girlfriend, for example. We were high school sweethearts, both absolute virgins in every technical sense, but we’d spent the better part of a year making out and feeling each other up after school. When we finally upgraded to actual sex, we went into it bracing ourselves for disaster. The horror stories are everywhere—painful first times, embarrassing accidents, ten-second “sessions”—so we were determined to at least communicate, if nothing else. We set aside an entire Saturday, borrowed her parents’ bedroom for the superior mattress, and brought a small bottle of lube and a box of condoms. I’d read enough on the subject to know these would be essential. The first few minutes were predictably awkward, but there was also a weird sort of playfulness to our attempts, as if we were both aware of how ridiculous it was to treat this as some delicate sacred ritual. We laughed when I lost my balance and nearly fell off the bed; she made fun of my “game face” and I told her she looked like she was concentrating on a chess match. The openness stripped away any pressure to perform.

What neither of us expected was how good it would feel. Not just the sex itself, but the entire process—exploring, adjusting, talking about what worked or didn’t, and giving each other real-time feedback. I was genuinely surprised by how adaptable our bodies were. We started in missionary, then I asked if it was okay to roll us over so she could be on top. She grinned and did a little bounce, and we both nearly died laughing. Later, we tried spooning and even some kind of half-sideways tangle that we’d only seen in a movie. All told, we lasted about twenty minutes, with maybe five or ten of those being actual penetration, the rest spent on experimenting, switching positions, or simply pausing to regroup. Both of us finished, both of us enjoyed it, and neither of us felt like we’d done anything wrong or weird. On the contrary, it was liberating.

Afterwards, we lay in bed for a while, naked and talking in whispers even though no one else was home. I asked her if it hurt as much as she’d expected. She said it was more of a sharp pinch at first, but then it felt good, really good, and she was surprised how quickly her body adjusted. I told her I was also surprised—mostly that I didn’t explode immediately, and that I actually wanted to go again. We did, later that afternoon, and that round lasted even longer. By the time we went downstairs for dinner, we agreed that the horror stories were mostly exaggerated. Not that it was perfect, but it wasn’t traumatic, either.

Reflecting on it now, I’m sure our success was a direct result of my “thorough preparations,” as I like to call them. I’d spent years watching porn, sure, but I’d also read enough Reddit threads, watched enough sex-ed videos, and lurked in enough online forums to know the basics. I picked up little things, like how to ask consent in a non-cringey way, how to use lube without making a mess, how to help a partner relax and focus on pleasure instead of performance. These aren’t the kinds of skills you learn in school, but they’re indispensable.

To this day, I still use porn as a kind of ongoing training module. People act like it’s the root of all sexual dysfunction, but I genuinely believe it’s helped me be more attentive, more open-minded, and more willing to ask questions when I’m with someone new. My current girlfriend—let’s call her L—was initially apprehensive about how much I knew, or at least pretended to know, in the bedroom. On one of our first nights together, I went down on her and she almost jumped off the bed. She literally gasped, grabbed the sheets, and said, “Holy shit, no one’s ever done it like that before.” I laughed and told her it was just basic anatomy, and she rolled her eyes and said, “Well, then you’re the first guy to ever pass Sex Ed 101.”

It’s not just the technical stuff, either. There’s a creativity that comes from watching a wide range of porn, some of it weird, some of it beautiful, some of it both. Once, L confessed that she was curious about being tied up, but she’d never told anyone before. I’d tinkered with basic bondage solo, because I’d seen it in a few videos and wanted to know how it felt, so I knew the knots and safety precautions. When I brought out a length of soft rope from my closet, she blushed and asked how I knew what to do. I told her I’d done my homework. We spent the entire afternoon turning her fantasy into reality, and when it was over she said it was the most intimate thing she’d ever experienced.

I don’t remember the first time I discovered I had a thing for power dynamics, but it’s been a running theme ever since I started browsing the web for X-rated content. The first time I confessed this to a partner, I was terrified she’d think I was a creep, but she actually found it exciting. More than once, I’ve had someone tell me, “I feel safe exploring this with you because you’re so careful about checking in.” That’s not something I would’ve learned from trial and error alone—it’s a skill I picked up through countless hours of reading, watching, and, yes, masturbating to porn that prioritizes communication and negotiation.

Even now, years into my relationship with L, I find myself discovering new kinks or positions online and wondering how to introduce them. It’s never awkward, though; we’ve gotten so good at talking about sex that nothing feels off limits. When I stumbled onto a video involving sensory deprivation, I spent a week researching it, then brought it up over dinner one night. L was immediately on board, and we spent the weekend experimenting with blindfolds, earplugs, and whispered commands. I could tell she loved the trust it required, the way it made everything else fade away except touch and voice.

I guess what I’m saying is that porn hasn’t just taught me how to fuck; it’s taught me how to listen, how to adapt, how to make sex an ongoing conversation instead of a silent performance. I have never once felt like my consumption has made me less attracted to real people, or less able to connect with my partner. If anything, it’s made me more aware of the infinite ways people can want, and be wanted.

We both joke about being “sex nerds” now. Sometimes, late at night, we’ll watch a new video together and pause it every few seconds to critique the cinematography or debate whether the actors are actually enjoying themselves. Other times, we’ll read a kinky blog post out loud and then talk about whether we’d ever try it. The point is that it’s always a two-way street—nobody is dictating the terms of what’s hot or what’s off-limits.

Of course, there are occasional disagreements. Sometimes, I’ll suggest something I saw online and L will wrinkle her nose and veto it immediately. Other times, she’ll surprise me by suggesting something much more adventurous than I would have expected. The important thing is that we never judge each other for being curious, or for having boundaries. If anything, those boundaries make the exploration more meaningful.

I know not everyone has the same experience. I have friends who say that porn ruined their expectations or made them feel inadequate, and I get that. But for me, it’s been a passport, not a prison. It’s given me a map for navigating my own desires, and a shared vocabulary for talking about them with the people I care about. I’ll never stop learning, and I’ll never stop being grateful for the weird, wonderful world of online smut.

 

And even now, I introduce new stuff in the bedroom that I learn from porn without having it interfere with my normal life