Sex tape. That phrase makes the whole dirty debacle sound rather professional, doesn’t it? Well it wasn’t. Isn’t. Was never going to be. ‘Porno’ sounds too, well, porny. ‘Amateur sex video’ makes it sound too – you got it – amateur. I’m struggling to find a word or phrase that conveys what exactly it was that we created. Regardless, a sex tape, it was not. I’m just gonna call it a shebang, because a shebang it was; it involved she, he and a bang.
We were on holiday. A blissful, sun-filled, sex-filled retreat. The conditions ticked all my nookie-on-cam requirements:
1. neutral backdrop √
The last thing I need, when looking back at our sweaty bodies bumping uglies, is to become distracted by the fake tan marks covering the walls that my mum will, undoubtedly, berate me for at a later date. (There’s a ‘being anal whilst having anal’ joke in here somewhere but I’m too unscrewed to locate it. Who even am I.) (There’s probably another joke in that ‘unscrewed’ sentence). Which brings me to my next point…
2. no parents √
I live at home. With parents. And brothers. No further explanation required. I’m simply sparing us all the embarrassment. #selfless
3. all the time in the world √
A week, to be precise. A week in which we can cock-up, crack on and hopefully not cock-down to our genitalia’s content. Or discontent. Too much ‘trying so hard to impress the cam’ sex can really take its toll on a vagina.
4. tan √
“Boy oh boy. I may look like snow, but this is hot hot hot! I’m so translucent you can basically see the inner workings of my vagina! Look how it cups the penis like a hot dog bun! This is more like a science video than a sex video. Maybe we can sell this to Embarrassing Bodies? Or schools could use it in Sex Ed!” said no one, ever. Sidenote: Pale is divine, but for body confidence purposes, I *much* prefer myself tan. Even though my flesh could, in its natural state, rival Casper’s. No offence meant to you sensational Snow White’s out there. (I AM ONE OF YOU!)
5. my IBS had calmed the fuck down √
I anticipated a shit-storm on holiday. A proper, literal shit-storm. I knew my diet would be thrown helter-skelter (all-inclusive buffet, holler!) and I had crystal clear visions of running from the pool to the toilet, clenching my ass cheeks for dear life, reprimanding myself for ever having the audacity to wear white bikini bottoms. Thankfully, none of this happened.
The conditions were perfect. The outcome was not.
It all started so promisingly. The camera was positioned (iPhone 5C, ICYWW). The bed sheets were fresh. I was fresh. He was fresh. It was all really fucking fresh. I hit Record. What followed was a Lemony Snicket-esque affair: a series of unfortunate events. Unsurprising newsflash: Sex doesn’t flow on cam exactly how it doesn’t flow IRL. The first 30 seconds consist of me double-thinking the deed, pacing back and forth – towards the penis and away from the penis – performing the sexual Samba. Then we crack on and my inner dialogue takes over:
‘Foreplay, foreplay, foreplay. What a glorious thing foreplay is. I wonder how my legs look splayed in this manner. I imagine I resemble a frog that’s laid out on all fours, except on its back. Speaking of back: arch it, girl! Stomach well and truly sucked… IN. I think the suction is actually hindering the openness of my nether-regions because FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHY WON’T IT GO IN. It’s like a duck to water every other day and now, NOW it decides not to cooperate. Typical. *to boyf* ‘Say Open Sesame or something!’ aaand voila! Christ, he is like the Vagina Whisperer. I will never tell him that though. That’s the kind of nickname that sticks with a man. Before you know it I’ll be in Slug, earwigging tales of the notorious Vagina Whisperer. No, I don’t need that kind of stress or information in my life. Right, focus Daisy, blow job time. My time to SHINES! Christ, I’m funny. Okay, not the smoothest blowy I’ve ever given. Very aware that my ass is camera facing. I wonder how my asshole looks in HD. I wonder if this phone even has HD. What actually is HD? Back to the bonking, we go. Yep, doggy does seem like the safest option. Even though doggy makes my tiny tits look like hanging triangles. Minuscule sacks of empty flour, is a more apt description. Swing low, sweet flour sacks. Nope, fella, that angle does not work. Oh sweet baby Moses, was that a fanny fart? I haven’t really got the hang of Final Cut Pro yet. How the fuck do you delete sounds? If I’d moaned a little louder instead of thinking about Final Cut Pro, maybe you wouldn’t be able to hear the fucking fanny fart. FOCUS, DAISY. Check yourself in the mirror. Not too shabby, guys, not too shabby. His arms look great. But, oh fuck, the camera is right there. I’ve essentially been looking smugly into the cam for an entire minute. That’s gonna look SO cheesy and SOO porny. We’ve really fucked this fuck up. When will this end?!!’
Except the phone ran out of space. The video stopped recording about 4 minutes after it started. The only thing captured on film was foreplay. Furious looking foreplay, at that. Mechanical masturbating. Blowies given at lightning speed. Cunnilingus that looked like head-banging. And incessant kissing that evoked images of fish pedicures.
Because I’d accidentally set the video to Time-Lapse.
The semi-shebang was captured in triple speed. With no sound.
We made a sped-up, silent sex movie.
It’s really fucking funny to watch. We’ve decided to call it Robocock.