For the first time, a massive data set of 10,000 porn stars has been extracted from the world’s largest database of adult films and performers. I’ve spent the last six months analyzing it to discover the truth about what the average performer looks like, what they do on film, and how their role has evolved over the last forty years.

This blog post is amazing.

John Millard scraped data at the Internet Adult Film Database, finding out all sorts of crazy statistical information.

My favorites:

• Only 62% of female porn stars “do anal.”
• The average age of a MILF in porn is thirty-three.
• Popular male porn stars are known as Top Woodsman.  Top. Freaking. Woodsman. That will never not be funny for me.
• Mixing the appearances of ten of the most popular women in porn produces this face:

And her name would be Nikki Lee.

He’s got some fun infographics made, and you can request a full pdf of the report, if you’re so inclined.

A series.

This week shall be all about orgasms.

Or, at least, the history of orgasms.

You can blame this on the porn. I am going to.

As did the Ancient Caveladies of Ye Olden Tymes

There are a handful of evolutionary theories out there about female orgasm.

Now, some scientists think that women only have orgasms because they have “vestigial organs.”  The clitoris is embryonic penis debris, and female orgasm isn’t evolutionarily adaptive.

It’s an exploitable bug, more than a product feature.

Some scientists think that female orgasm has some “useful” functions–it increases female libido, it ups the odds of conception through cervical spasms, and it encourages heterosexual pair bonding. That sort of thing.

But my personal favorite is the Cave Lady Group Sex idea.

Because some scientists nick the whole “pair bonding” thing altogether.

Real Time Photo of Ancient Cave Lady

So, some scientists have suggested that women orgasm, not just the one time per session, but potentially many times because we used to be big old group sex-aholics.

Basically, if a cave-lady didn’t get satisfaction the first time, she could move onto another partner, and then maybe another. Like chimps do.  It’s possible that the orgasm ‘gender gap’ serves a purpose.

And, seeing as we all lived in bands and there were no privacy screens or Tin Lizzies or single-family detached homes, basically all sex was what we’d call exhibitionist.

It’s possible that our ancestors were horn-dog orgy experts who whittled huge-boobed ladies with giant vulvas. It has some potential adaptive advantages, most notably in a theoretical decrease in infanticide and a boost in group cohesion.

You have to admit. The theory has a certain charm, right?

Multiple orgasms: solace for the risk of being trampled to death by woolly mammoths.

Homo sapiens have been around less than half a million years, and anatomically modern humans are about 200,000 years old.  Our oldest cave paintings go back about 40 thousand years.  Permanent human settlements linked to agriculture appear to date back about 10 thousand years.  So, you know, that’s about 190 thousand years of potential cave orgies.

Alas, after we do things like “run out of megafauna” and “invent property rights” this notion that women are insatiable becomes a big problem.  When hunting and gathering stops sustaining, and you’re all on little bits of land, you’ve got three new problems: 1.) who do you assign property rights to, 2. ) who’s going to work the land, and 3.) who are you going to pass it on to?

So, humanity invents the Orgasm Police.  And, guess who’s orgasms need the most policing?

Woman as libidinous and insatiable has been the dominant human sexual narrative for much, much longer than the current notions about “frigidity” and “dysfunction.”  Ovid actually had Juno and Jove argue over who got the most pleasure out of sex.  Women won. In a lot of places, it’s still the assumed truth.  Granted, in a lot of places, the notion still does an enormous amount of harm.

Scientifically speaking, women are the more visual sex.  Women physically respond to a wider variety of erotic imagery than men, and they do it, in a lot of cases, completely unconsciously.  When we say things like “men are just visual creatures,” and “women crave emotional connection,” and we intend for those two statements to represent polar opposite approaches, we are repeating myths, and we’re doing it on faith.

You have to wonder why.

I wish I could remember the link, but about a month ago, I saw novelist compare the “climax” in pornography to the “climax” in erotic romance.

The climax in porn is, as we all know, a woman coated in semen–generally a woman apparently sated. The climax in romance, erotic or otherwise, is a declaration of eternal(ish) devotion from a man that’s recognized a woman’s unique awesomeness.

On the surface this looks like “dudes want orgasms” and “chicks want true love!”

Of course, it’s also possible that this looks like some sort of Age of Anxiety manifesto.  ”Dudes want assurance they’re adequate in satisfying a bottomless pit of female sexual want (also: assurance that semen isn’t actually icky)” and “chicks want proof that someone attractive has found them bewitching, over and over and over.”

Romance novels are like those potato chips or methamphetamine.  Once you’re hooked, you don’t stop at one.

Women don’t necessarily “want true love.”  They want “falling in love.”  Tension. Lust.  The gaze. With men. With two men. Men with men.  Men with space aliens.  Women with Vampires. Vampires with werewolves. Werewolves with humans.   Werewolves with vampires AND humans AND Australian Catholic Priests.  Over and over.

And, it doesn’t change the measurable fact that women are still easier to visually arouse than men are.  Which is to say that women get off on all of it.

Yet, somehow, here we are in 2012, with the supposed shock of “Mommy porn” and a whole new way to tell women their orgasms are inadequate.

I told you I was blaming porn.

To Be Continued…

The Female Orgasm: A Brief History, Part 2
The Female Orgasm: A Brief History, Part 3
The Female Orgasm: A Brief History, Part 4

Shurie Janai, 2011

It’s warm.  The grass is growing. The daffodils woke up this weekend.

I want to wear less clothing.

Supposedly, that whole springtime fucking-like-bunnies urge is a myth.  There’s no supporting evidence. Modern surveys suggest that we actually fuck-like-bunnies in the winter.

That doesn’t change the fact that Springtime just feels right for the roused libido.

It’s the onslaught on the senses. The color comes back; the light turns gold. It smells like grass and warmth. It sounds like life. The clothes come off.

Does it matter if it’s scientifically true?

“Souvenirs.” via CleanMoralPolite, 2012

The photo is of and by cleanmoralpolite.  Go forth and follow/subscribe.

So, I’m reading Mary Roach’s Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex, because The Foster Kid’s review made it sound worthwhile.  It is, but boy-howdy I’ve read a lot of information about pig orgasm now.

According to research, when you’re sexually excited your pain threshold goes up. Way up. People achieve pretty impressive and cringe-worthy feats when hopped up on sex hormones. Doctors have stories. Fetlife has pictures.

I’ve seen things, y’all.

The first time I attempted this sex blogging thing, I posted a picture of myself, specifically of my breasts, rather bruised. I got very concerned messages. Very concerned.

And I get it. I do. I think, there is an element of wanting to save the damsel in distress when you send that sort of missive through the tubes, but really, I believe them. It looks like it hurts. It does hurt. I’ve been pretty marked up. There’s that little voice, on say… day three?  When the purple maxes out? That voice wonders, ‘Jesus, you perv, what the fuck? This is okay with you? Issues much?’

That little voice goes pretty much silent when you’re actually getting the bruises, though. You are busy, just then. Preoccupied.