Her sexuality is a mysterious flower, opening in season, responding to patient loving care.
Porn strips her down to an empty fantasy, no pursuit, no wooing or romancing.
You'd like her to be ready at the drop of your pants, but real life doesn't work that way.
You'd like the safety of her always saying 'yes', no risk of being rejected, even avoiding the work.
But if you take away what you don't want, you miss out on the good with the bad.
You aren't in control, you don't get to choose. You are not God and you didn't make woman. You may be used to choosing through porn, but getting used to endless options spoils you for reality and what they're selling is bogus. It promises satisfaction while you enjoy the endorphins, but you are left with guilt and the feeling of a dumb hick who's been swindled by a big city slick snake-oil salesman.
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