As an adult entertainer (in that I am an adult who enjoys entertaining), I've noticed performers' ability to compartmentalize. This seems to be a magnification of what's happening to gay men generally, as sex now seems to take place in a different head space to discussions around mental health and fulfilling relationships.
Rather than engaging in sex as something all-encompassing, shared between two people (this could be a phenomenal dickdown, not necessarily romantic), more and more guys are approaching sex as if it were a kind of performance.
DOING IT LIVE
Sometimes, performers aren't interested in each other beyond the paycheck. It's not always easy to spot since the facial expressions associated with theatrical sex work are now commonplace among attendees too. Even if performers do fancy each other, mismanagement and organisational upsets might throw them off.
Personally, I can have a lot of fun doing sex shows, but when I broke up with my boyfriend a week ahead of our performance together, I found myself struggling. Needless to say, my emotions got tangled up and the show was anti-climactic .
Later, I realised I'd learned some lessons: a) think very carefully before arranging a sex show with someone you love, b) you can never be certain as to why someone's not 'feeling it', and c) my head is still connected to my dick. I don't want that to change.
WILL FUCK FOR FANS
I won't go so far as to dismiss all of this content as a pretense, but a large proportion of it is. What's going through a model's mind as they enact their viewers' fantasies with a queue of fellow porn actors? Often: the steaminess of their sex face, the arch in their back, the elimination of positions in which they look fat. They're going through the motions.
The presumption that these adventures are never staged is misplaced. Some boys don't have sex at all unless they can monetize it (cum is a finite resource). Which begs the question, when does the razzmatazz get left behind?
SEX BY NUMBERS
Am I alone in thinking the quality of sex (or its perceived quality) decreases the more you have it? Whereas, the more I engage in other people's quirks, the better I tend to connect with them - which can happen on set too - and leads to a more cohesive sexscapade. It's the old cliché: quality over quantity.
When we let go of our hangups and seek fun rather than just sex, our experiences become intimate and ravenous. The more we pretend emotions shouldn't be involved, the more they rebel against us (when we could least do with the hassle).
Passion is not a commodity. We shouldn't deny it to ourselves just because it's harder to film. We're all human, so we should ask ourselves: why do something if we're not having fun?