“Ritual Waves” (Adult Film Review)

This is a review for Porn Club, you know like a book club… for porn. You can watch Ritual Waves here.

Ritual Waves is an experience that felt better once I was ready to receive it. That is to say, my brain broke (in a good way) on the first viewing and on the second viewing, I got it. As some of you may know, and have been celebrating, May is masturbation month. Masturbation May hasn’t felt special due to shelter in place orders and all that (pandemic) jazz. Did I need a designated month to masturbate after I’d already been in the house for weeks? Not really, but stay with me here. There are lots of ways to masturbate. To name just two, there is the quick and dirty when you just want to release before that Zoom meeting. Then there’s the experience of self-love where you take your time. Ritual Waves is the latter, holy hell is it the latter! Don’t let the length of this 5 minute film fool you, Ritual Waves goes literally and figuratively deep.

Ritual Waves is the type of film that encourages you to experience yourself, all of yourself. The anticipation of pleasure can lead one to hold their mouth agape, saliva escaping with reckless abandon. Those moments when you stop caring about where it all goes, the spit, cum, all of it. Those moments, feelings are celebrated (not depicted) in Ritual Waves. Ritual Waves takes the viewer to that headspace in the first 60 seconds! As the film continues, Lina Bembe’s hands play the role of their lover, exploring and appreciating their body. Watching their fingertips search, press, and pleasure until a golden gratitude is shown upon Lina’s face. If you look closely, you can catch a fleeting glimpse of a clenched jaw fueled by the tension from below.

Ritual Waves then takes a welcome deep dive as Lina goes underwater for a rebirth. Here you can feel the energy and music of the film shift. I want to take a moment and give a shoutout to Manuela Schinina’s music choices throughout the film. I found the music to be fluid, ethereal, and enchanting. I could not imagine any other music accompanying these waves.

I hope you take a moment to watch this film. If you do, here’s some food for thought before you press play. What does it mean to be consumed by something? To be consumed by darkness is to suggest that once we return to light there’s a residue left on our vision. To be consumed by wetness is to suggest that our skin still drinks even after the environment changes. This experience is not unlike taking a shower on a hot day in Oakland. The sweat appears just as fast as we dry off, our skin still drinks. Ritual Waves took me on a journey of what it’s like to see the feeling of that drinking, thirsty skin.

There’s a peace that comes with full immersion, a peace that whispers this is where I live. It’s the same peace we experience when we’re under water and open our eyes. It’s the same peace we experience when we’re not yet close but in a state of flow with masturbation. This peace and pleasure are where I live, in the throes of my own passion. Dive into RW and live there, deeper than you normally go with yourself.

“Orgy #001” Adult Film Review

I will always encourage people to watch porn films that have more depth than just the sex and Orgy #001 is one of those films. I’ve been known to ask clients, lovers, and friends, “How does your body feel?” That question has greater significance during this time of Shelter In Place when many of us are starved for touch. Orgy is a feast of delightfully decadent touch with a depth greater than sex. The depth can be found in the lighting, music, and a few quiet moments of acting. This is eleven minutes that you’ll want to rewatch (or perhaps re-enact) with friends. The feast of touch ranges from an amuse-bouche of stinging touch all the way to the dessert of after care caresses. The cast is a joy to watch! The viewer is left with the feeling that this group enjoys the company of one another even when the cameras aren’t recording. Sex with the benefit of friendship is the vibe this cast gives off and I’m 100% here for it. There’s a rapport that jumps off the screen to generate a feeling of peeking into someone’s living room and that’s what makes this film a treasure.

Orgy is made even better by its musical score (created by Ashur Rayis) which felt like the soundtrack for an edge play workshop. From crescendo to bottom to climax again, it was exciting to feel the music. The music created these interesting vibrations that blurred the audible lines between Hitachis and the vocal joy of the performers.

I found Orgy to be a poetic dance between exhibitionism and voyeurism. The visuals were made that much better by director Teen Wolf’s use of natural light. There were a few quiet moments as subtle as easter eggs that felt like held space for autonomous after care in the form of a quiet stare. Such moments are easy to miss with all of the action, but look again it will be worth it.

Just the thought of passion in the time of a pandemic may find some of you craving physical touch and deep connection. I encourage you to watch Orgy, not because it will satiate your need for physical touch, but because every sense of compersion in your body will celebrate the touch they experience. Orgy was hypnotizing from open to close! I was left with the feeling that every character both earned and received their pleasure from a place of deep connection.

“Camera and I” Adult Film Review

I’ve been modeling since I was 12 and my brain can be hyper literal. So, every time I heard someone suggest I “make love to the camera” my brain always went to a silly place. Shine Louise Houston may have a similar sense of humor. Camera and I is worth a watch. (It’s 14 minutes long, you have the time to watch it right meow. I’ll wait.)

Are you back? Good! There’s not much I can say without spoilers. I try to watch films without reading much or watching previews ahead of time. I want to go in with a clean slate and nothing to potentially sway my opinion. I’m glad that I went into Camera and I with that clean slate. I was audibly laughing in the first few minutes. I didn’t expect it to be that funny. My favorite line was “you seem stable”. Kudos to Jasko Fide for not only executing a hot scene, but for bringing the viewer directly into their experience of pleasure. The best thing about watching porn is when the actors are not acting, but enjoying themselves. Here are some more films featuring Jasko Fide. Another moment of joy was when we saw the bliss “Sony” experienced when they bathed Jasko in what I can only describe as celestial lighting. This film went from funny, to sexy, to romantic with a post-coital scene unlike any other.

Sometimes you watch a film and you hope that no one ever tries to remake it or change it in any way because it was perfect in its execution. Camera and I is one of those works. (I’d totally watch a sequel to see what “Panasonic” could bring to a scene, just sayin’.) Camera and I is great just the way it is and I hope it gets all the recognition it deserves. Happy Birthday, Shine! Well done!

The Wedding Party

The California King-sized bed had been moved into the main living area, the largest room in the house. The entirety of the home, inside and out, was adorned in their favorite flowers. Blood red dahlias for the groom and purple orchids for the bride. The scent of the flowers filled the entry way and the aroma was punctuated with sandalwood and jasmine in the form incense burning in several rooms. A little over a dozen well dressed people began to fill the space. Most of them drifted into a circle around the bed. No side of the bed was against a wall allowing an adequate vantage point for everyone in the circle. Once everyone found their assigned places around the bed, there was a respectful silence that held the room. The silence exploded into applause when the bride and groom arrived, dressed impeccably and still aglow from their wedding ceremony.
A woman with sienna-colored dreadlocks projected her voice over the applause to congratulate the couple on their union and to begin the ceremony for which they’d all gathered. She spoke with the same tone and respect one would at the opening circle for a play party. This party was a bit more exclusive as only the closest friends of the newlyweds were in attendance. She spoke about consent, boundaries, respect, and holding space. Everyone stood with a muted respect for the orator, the unofficial matriarch of the group, until she’d finished. Once the opening circle was complete, a person who sang at the wedding began singing softly to set the mood. Their voice was low and rumbled with a vibration strong enough to give the guests a tingle. The singing continued just long enough for the DJ to finish cueing up the music playlist that had already been curated by friends of the newlyweds. Music began playing softly and the vocalist sang quieter until they faded out their contribution to give way to ambient noise. Music that felt impossibly slow with its own brand of tension filled the room.
By this time, the couple had already begun undressing each other. His hands slowly loosened her red corset until unhooking it was easy. He dropped to his knees to help her out of her thigh high boots, again unlacing slowly. The onlookers were silent, save for a few whispers, as he continued to undress her. By the time he’d reached the last layer, she was bent over the bed as he pulled her panties down, covering the backs of her legs with kisses as his hands pulled them closer to the floor. When he reached the floor, he took the time to kiss her feet. She turned and sat down on the bed as he massaged her toes, squeezing and pulling each one to help her feet relax after a few hours in six inch heels. She was completely free from any clothing, which meant it was her turn to undress him. She took the same care and patience with undressing him. She used her fingernails, manicured to a dagger-like point, to stimulate the nerves in his skin wear clothing had been instead of the kisses he’d used to show his affection for her. She knew every erogenous zone that made it difficult for him to stand. She played with him until he was short of breath and weak in the knees. At last, they were both naked.
The photographer was given a nod by the bride. This was their cue that they were now allowed to begin capturing the event for them to frame and enjoy for the remainder of their years together. Boudoir photos in real time. They each turned to their trusted friends, the groom to the best man and the bride to the maid of honor, to receive gift wrapped boxes. These boxes held their wedding gifts to each other. She opened her box first. In it she found a purple Hitachi with the words, “Can’t stop. Won’t stop.” engraved on the handle. She laughed as she read the inscription. It was their private joke and there was no need to explain it to the wedding party. He sat upright on the bed, near the head, with his legs spread and she nestled in between them facing away. Her ankles were then bound to the bed posts by soft leather restraints. Her hands gripped his shins as he plugged in her new toy. Once he turned it on the lowest setting, he began gently running the wand across the nape of her neck. He then moved on to her shoulders until he felt more tension leave her body. He whispered more private jokes to her low enough to stay out of earshot of the wedding party. She laughed as she leaned her head back for a kiss. He continued down to her nipple where he stimulated her briefly until she seemed to lose her breath. He knew that her nipples can only take so much before the pleasure crossing the line into annoying. He then crossed over to her sternum and moved lower until reaching her waist. He then moved in a circle, past the iliac crest and on to her sacrum. There, he held for a while and pressed the vibrating wand between his penis and the muscles in her lower back. Both of them began to lose their breath. He circumnavigated her pelvis a few times before placing a condom on the wand. By this time, her lips were swollen, red, and pulsing. He applied more pressure and a higher vibration on her pubic bone as her left knee began to sway side-to-side. He continued with the massage just outside of her vulva, being careful not to touch her pussy, not yet. He moved on to her gracilis. Her legs began to shake. While he continued to use the wand with his right hand, the palm of his left hand covered her pussy with gentle pressure, no movement, no rubbing, just gentle pressure. She breathed a sigh of relief as he felt how wet she’d become. “Do you want me inside of you?”, he whispered into her ear. With eyes half-closed she exhaled an anxious and audible “Yes!” The wedding party smiled in silence.
He extended his hand out to the left as someone was ready with the bride’s preferred lube. After a few squirts into his hand, he rubbed all five fingers together and reached back to his partner. He began with one finger as he slid from the perineum up and slowly pressed inside. He felt her Skene’s gland swelling as he gave gentle circle stimulation until she accepted a second finger. Less focused on destination and more enthralled with the journey, he massaged her pussy with two fingers and alternated back and forth between nature’s oldest sex toy, the hand, and her wedding gift. Between heavy breaths, she encouraged him when to stay “right there” or reminded him “don’t stop” when his intentions were in alignment with her reception. Following her guidance, the massage from man and machine continued. Her moans turned into song as her voice outperformed the speakers. Her toes would curl as if her feet were making fists and her ankles pulled at the leather restraints. Her eyes rolled back at regular intervals only broken up by the occasional proclamation of “FUCK!” or “YES!” The wedding party stood in quiet reverence, excited at the possibility of what was next. The thoughts from the party ranged any where from expectations of an epic squirting orgasm to clenched teeth as they patiently waited to play with their mates. Time seemed to travel from fast to slow for everyone in the room. There were times when it felt like time was moving fast and that five minutes felt like 30 seconds. There were times when some felt the opposite and everything was in slow motion. The groom continued to massage the bride’s pussy, focused on journey in lieu of destination. And then it happened…
A bridesmaid in the corner who had yet to make a sound, dropped to her knees. She had an orgasm! The entire room shifted their focus to where she had been standing in the corner, untouched, uncoupled, and up until that point, unspoken. She had fallen to her hands and knees and squirted so hard that the carpet underneath her was spongy to the touch. As she gyrated through a series of pelvic thrusts, the wedding party began to erupt in cheers, applause, and laughter. The bride laughed the loudest. When the cacophony died down, the bride wiped a joyous tear from her face and announced to everyone, “YOU MAY ALL JOIN IN THE DANCE!”
The wedding party erupted in cheers and laughter as the exercise in voyeurism transitioned into a play party for everyone in the room. The groom paused his massage, removed his partner’s restraints and they held each other, laughing at the unexpected turn of events. Everyone began to undress and play in groups. The bridesmaid who broke the ice kept to herself in the corner. She refused any would be partners and massaged herself into orgasms for the rest of the evening.
This has been an original erotic short story written by Jet Noir. This is a work of fiction.

Deep Concentration

As a performer in the neo-burlesque revival, I’ve performed in some interesting venues. I’ve prepared for my performance in even more interesting prep areas. You may have noticed that I didn’t write the word backstage. That’s because a closet or a bathroom is not a proper back stage dressing area. As a performer, I crave/need a proper prep area. The main reason for that is to have a safe space for deep concentration.

The first time that I want any audience member to see me in costume is when I take a step out onto stage. Being stopped by a stranger to marvel at my costume before I perform when I’m prepping for the stage is a huge distraction. (So, if you are that stranger, just be cool and keep walking.) Without a secluded area to prepare, there’s no opportunity for me (or the dozens of women) to be naked and patiently prepare.

Recently, at a venue in Oakland, our backstage area shared pedestrian traffic with audience members en route to the restroom. As I paced the hall, wearing a silk robe and headphones, rehearsing my lines, a gentleman passed on his way to the restroom. My inner monologue begged, “Don’t talk to me, keep walking. Don’t say anything to me, just keep walking!” Just then, he blurted out, “ARE YOU PERFORMING TONIGHT!” I barked back at him, “I’M BUSY!” I was pissed and I don’t apologize for it. If you ever see someone pacing the hall in the basement of a club while barefoot, wearing a silk robe, wearing headphones, and reciting lines, think before you speak. It’s a safe bet that they’re in deep concentration and a really safe bet that they are performing that night. Don’t be a dumb ass.

Producers: I know that you didn’t design the venue, but do what you can to secure backstage space with a volunteer to guide muggle traffic away from/around the performer’s naked space. Let the performers know if the backstage area is open to foot traffic. (Mention it in your pre-show form letter.)

Performers: Read social cues from the people around you. If you’re backstage with someone that is focused on prepping for their number and they’re wearing headphones, leave them be. Whether you call it method acting, show mode, or deep concentration. Give your fellow performers their space to prepare.

A Problem With The Fitness Industry

Greetings! Last week, I promised part two of the seven part series on how I keep my energy levels up. That will show up next week. First, something significant happened on Monday and I needed to write about it before my trip this weekend. I wanted to write about a problem shared by most trainers and most gym members. A problem that many of them share is their attitude towards appearance. In their desire to make good soldiers, the US Government has been suggesting that we move our bodies and stay active for at least 20 minutes a day since the 1940s. It wasn’t until a capitalist figured out a way to monetize this suggestion by opening a gym that the current culture of fitness was born. [An early public gymnasium started in Paris in 1847. However, the history of health clubs for the general public can be traced back to Santa Monica, California in 1947.] They’ve been called fitness clubs, health clubs, gyms, etc. [IWM… “Fitness” and “Health” are not interchangeable words. One can be fit with high cholesterol. One can be healthy and unable to do basic exercises.]

During this week’s post, I’ll be using words like “obese”, “fat”, and “overweight” (these words are not interchangeable either.) These words have very different meanings and I’ll try to respect those meanings in the context of my message. I’m mentioning the use of these words in case they may be a trigger for any of you reading this post. I understand that many people have experienced trauma with these words being used as weapons from parents and peers.

Trainers and Fitness Professionals, when a new client shows up for their first session and complains of knee pain, listen to their request and make sure they feel heard. Please don’t overlook their pain and see that person as overweight. Further, don’t look at their body fat as a problem that is your duty to fix. That client came to you to get stronger and live a pain-free life. “Well, if they lost some weight, their knee wouldn’t hurt so much. Bones weren’t meant to carry that much weight!” While there may be some validity to that statement, the client came to you with a knee problem, they didn’t ask you to fix their weight. Let them be fat and encourage them that they’re fine with the body they have. Find ways to help them love a fit lifestyle. Find ways that they enjoy moving their body. (Just because you like Burpees doesn’t mean they will/should.) If you can show them exercises to strengthen the muscles around their knees to relieve pain, teach them how to maintain good posture, and build core strength while connecting with the human in front of you, they won’t be seen as a fat problem that needs to be fixed. Leave the Savior complex in your locker and train with compassion.

Fitness clubs, Health clubs, Gyms, and other such places, what if your business model was NOT based on ridding the world of obesity? What if you did NOT encourage people to workout just to lose weight? What if you encouraged people to play because it improved quality of life? [Encouraging all bodies to play is why I’m a fan of the Athletic Playground in Emeryville.] What if there were no scales or body fat calipers in the entire building? In this Netflix and Chill society, I’d love to see a gym that D(idn’t)GAF about any body’s weight. I only care that you move your body and have fun doing so. A former gym regular sent me a flyer for a new gym opening here in the Bay Area. She was suggesting that I apply to work there, so I went to their website to see what they’re all about. I found the following on their About Us page: “A heart pumping, calorie burning full-body workout layering intense plyometric movements with strengthening isometric holds to build lean muscle and sweat away excess fluff.” Sweat away excess fluff!? WTF!? Are they marketing to humans or cappuccinos!? With that statement as part of their manifesto, I decided that I didn’t want to find out more about this place. I don’t want to train people in the name of de-fluffing them. I’m proud to say that I work in a gym that focuses more on movement than fat burn. We’ve never held any contest to see who can lose the most body weight or reduce the most body fat percentage in an arbitrary time period. We’re not perfect. But, in general, our approach is about creating a lifestyle around fitness and physicality for all bodies. (This post isn’t a Valentine to my employer, so you can do your own digging to find the name of my gym.)

“Do you know the best way to lose six pounds in 3 weeks?” That question was asked of me by a 13 year-old figure skater! I wish I were making this up. I was astounded! I knew that any answer could create a trajectory for the rest of her life, but I was also so caught off guard by such a question from such a lean and muscular young woman that I fumbled the answer. I told her that it was a big question and I encouraged her to seek out scientific approaches and to avoid any diets. (My hope was that she would not find any scientific approach to weight loss for someone with such a low body fat percentage.) I went home and drank some whiskey that night. I seriously considered quitting my job and hanging up my coach’s whistle indefinitely. I was reminded a few days later, as I told the story to the club owner, that such an occurrence was precisely why I shouldn’t quit, people like that need coaches that will point them in the right direction. Even days later, I don’t know if I could ever be ready for such a question. She’s 13 fucking years old!

“My boyfriend said he wouldn’t marry me unless I lost weight.” Those were the words of a victim of societal conditioning. She relayed the message through a friend and wanted to hire me as her trainer. I refused. Someone will take her money. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if I did.  I cared more about whether or not she was able to see the life of abuse she was about to embrace. That was about two years ago. I don’t know whatever happened with her, but I hope that she woke up and left that person for a life of self-love and a partner that likes her just the way she is today.

Once and Future Clients, please cancel your magazine subscriptions. Please be honest with your parents and tell them that their lack of acceptance (as they criticized your weight and food choices) hurt you. Please find and nurture a supportive group of friends that accept and celebrate your body just the way it is and above all else… Love yourself before you begin any fitness program. An exercise that I give to most of my clients is to stand naked in the mirror, armed with a dry erase marker. Write (a minimum of) ten things you love about your body on that mirror. Use that self-love to fuel your motivation to improve your quality of life. “But, Jet, if I love my body, I won’t want to workout and change it.” Right, you won’t want to change it, the hope is that you’ll be motivated to make it stronger and more capable. To put it bluntly, *presses caps loCK* DON’T WORKOUT TO LOSE WEIGHT! Exercise to improve your quality of life. Improve your blood volume and blood flow, decrease aches and pains, improve balance and reduce fall hazards, increase bone density, improve mental acuity, and just be ready for life. Losing weight should not be your only goal for embracing a fit lifestyle. Think long-term as in LIFE style, not just about the wedding dress. “Jet, please! My Gram-gram lived until she was 97 and she was still walking and talking shit! She was strong and she didn’t exercise!” Well, I bet she didn’t sit at a desk and fuck around on Tumblr all day when she was in her 20s, either. The point that I hope you takeaway from this post is that fat is not a problem to be fixed. No one gives a fuck if you’re fat or fluffy or whatever TF pop culture is calling it these days. No one can body shame you without both your permission and acceptance of such shame. I’m grateful for being teased and bullied as a child. By my peers (read: black people) I was told that I was too dark, my nose was too big, and blah blah blah. What was I to do? My own friends, my own “people” ridiculed me for the way I looked. I made no efforts, nor had any desire to lighten my skin or change my nose. I adopted a simple manifesto for friendship. “Either they’re in my corner or fuck ’em!” I will always be comfortable in my own skin. I will always love myself, despite the fact that I’ll never meet the societal standard of beauty.

For the people in your world that don’t accept you, for the magazines, or gyms that are over concerned with your fluff when you’re trying to make strength gains and move beyond pain, fuck ’em. For all of the significant others that have ever told their partner to lose weight… Fuck you! For all of the coaches that have told 13 year-old girls to lose weight… Fuck you! For all sports/activities (looking at Ballet and Football with equal ire) that condition children to have anxiety-ridden relationships with food (so that they may lose or gain weight to make the cut)… Fuck you!

Why do I sound so angry? Wouldn’t you be? I became a trainer 11 years ago, because I wanted to help people move their bodies efficiently. I want to help people get stronger while staying injury-free. I DGAF about anyone getting a six pack and I think that’s a dumb goal to have. I just want people to have a better life through fitness and healthier habits. But, all I get are men that want to gain weight and get “swole” and women that want to lose weight because society has convinced them that something is wrong with their bodies. Yes, I’m angry. Yes, this is a problem with my industry. We (fitness professionals) can fix this problem as soon as we stop trying to fix people. Let’s help the people. Let’s teach the people how to workout instead of just taking them through a workout. Let’s explain the benefits of those compound movements. Let’s coach the humans instead of training the dollar signs.