My Morning Of Porn

I have a confession to make. I've been watching porn all morning.

I tried to look away. Truly. But I couldn't. I became positively addicted. I watched vid after vid after vid, so intensely excited that I forgot to eat lunch, and lost hours sitting at the computer.

The players in the porn movies weren't particularly attractive, but that didn't bother me at all. They still knew how to move, they sounded great, and besides, it was the leather and metal hardware that drew me in. I could practically smell it, feel it, taste it (okay, not taste it, I wouldn't really taste leather or metal, but it was a very vivid sensory experience).

Now, normally I'm not into porn. Watching two (or three or seventeen) people have sex in a poorly lit room after a preposterous set-up just doesn't do it for me. But this porn wasn't your standard, male-on-female-on-female-on-cable-guy sex movie. It was one-on-one, and it was incredible. And it left me frenzied with desire and desperate for more.

Specifically, the vids were woman-on-bag, and featured on a fashion website I stumbled upon. Now I've been on many fashion websites, and I've looked at many bags. But I've never before seen movies of women holding the bags, playing with them, opening their flaps and unzipping their pockets. I'm shivering just thinking about it. Click here to see!

I loved the bag porn for the same reason that anyone loves porn. I could see myself in it. When men watch porn they relate to the male star, fantasizing about having sex with the three blonde flight attendants as voraciously as he. When I watched my bag porn, I related to the women. That could be me, I thought. I could be slinging that hobo over my arm. I could be sauntering down the road with the satchel in my hand. I could be caressing that sleek, smooth leather and sliding my cell phone in and out of the handy, fully lined inner pocket ("For organisation!" the girl beamed).

It was an amazingly satisfying morning. And for those of you wondering: yes, there was a climax. I got out my credit card and bought a beautiful Calvin Klein bag, which shall be delivered to me in just a few short days.

And unlike the other type of standard-issue orgasms, my bag will keep me twitching with delight for months.

So tell me: can your porn do that?