Why I Celebrated My Wedding Anniversary By Watching Virtual Reality Porn
It was way better than dinner and a movie.
Lots of guys get blowjobs on their wedding anniversaries, but not like this. Mine came from porn stars Nikki Benz and Rachel Starr. Only they weren’t actually in the room with me.
The day that marked my 13th wedding anniversary was the only time that adult entertainment company Naughty America was available to provide me a demo of their virtual reality porn membership service.
“At least someone will blow you today,” my wife said as I left the house, kidding in that not-very-kidding way.
But first, there was a heavy creep factor to surmount. Of the many feelings possible to experience while seated on a couch in a luxury hotel suite next to two gentlemen you just met at the bar where they calmed your nerves with a vodka and soda, getting ready to masturbate does not top my personal list.
But there I was in Room 1102 of the Hard Rock Hotel in Las Vegas, about to go full mast in front of Naughty America Chief Information Officer Ian Paul and Creative Director Scott Man, who had just handed me business cards emblazoned with a female ass and legs raised into the air.
My window into this wonderment was a $99 Sumsung Gear VR headset, which meant that I could see the actual pixels on the Samsung Galaxy inserted an inch from my face. I was kind of hoping they would have the just-demoed $600 Oculus Rift on hand. But seriously, I would have enjoyed this on a View-Master. This was reality like I’d never seen it. Even in my own reality. Especially in my own reality.
Unlike your computer, this playback device tracks and reacts to your head movements. When you look up at the gorgeous creatures mounting you, who are already popping out of the background due to stereoscopic 3D imaging, the video changes perspective. When you turn your head, the direction their voices emanate from changes in your earphones.
To your brain, it’s you who’s lying there. You’re the male porn star.
“You want my mouth to go all the way on it now, don’t you?” I’m asked by Rachel Starr, her long brunette hair falling playfully over the girthy asset I wish were my penis. “You know how I get once I get started.”
I’m not a writer prone to hyperbole. However, this is beyond a doubt the best invention since electric current. Not only will VR save the porn industry with fee-based subscriptions that people like me will so definitely fork out, it might just change life as we know it.
Laugh if you want, but imagine global politics without the sexual frustration. Imagine everyone from presidents to soldiers replacing their battle helmets with jackoff headsets and making love not war. This is what John Lennon was singing about.
And the tech is only getting better. Paul told me Naughty America will stream 4K video soon, and he’s already talking to the creator of the Autoblow 2 about synching his blowjob machine up to the VR action.
Of course, there is a downside. For example, good things are known to come from leaving your house every now and then. Also, this immersive world makes it much easier to get caught by your significant other, since you can’t see and can only barely hear the outside world.
Plus, it eliminates all plausible deniability about what you were doing when caught. (Oh, OK. You were enjoying the New York Times virtual reality app. And what was that in your hand now?)
Then again, that last particular downside is mitigated by the fact that you may not need a significant other that much anymore.
About 20 minutes into my experience, I encountered the only thing capable of pulling me out of a world so fantastic — comedy gold. While doing stuff to my avatar with her red-stockinged feet, Starr mispronounced an eighth-grade word, and I lost it.
“That’s more than ambidextrious, right?” she asked.
Convulsing with laughter, I ripped the headset off my head. That’s when I looked around and realized that the threesome I’d really been having was with the two guys watching me.
I waited the 10 extremely required minutes before I could stand up and dash back home to try and repair the damage done when you abandon your wife to watch porn with two strange males on your wedding anniversary.
“Sweatpants,” Man noted, pointing at my visible erection. “Bold move.”
Is it just me or is there always an embarrassing moment with threesomes?
Do you have interesting ideas, pitches, or demands for what Corey should do next? Email him at coreylevitan@gmail.com
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