I recently discovered that today, March 14^th 2016 is International Blow Job Day, coming, or better cumming, precisely a month after St. Valentine’s Day, a feast very dear to women. Something tells me that the BJ day is much beloved by men and I am pretty sure that mobs of horny machos will be very glad to pick up the ‘fruits’ of this one. Anyway the silly recurrence made me think of the funny and interesting documentary, produced by award-winner Brian Grazer, on the genesis of the legendary 1972 porn movie, the iconic Deep Throat. The documentary, Inside Deep Throat, narrates the historical time in which the movie was made, a movie that until today stands as the ultimate porn movie, through the voices and the interviews with the people who worked in it: the director Gerard Damiano – a hair-dresser from Queens, NY, who in the Seventies while listening to the intimate confessions of his clients in his beauty salon realized that the sexual revolution was about to break out in the United States; the producer – a weird-looking kind of man who felt like a cinematographer à la Jean Luc Godard; the actors – Harry Reems the male protagonist who for his role in the movie was put on trial for obscenity and Linda Lovelace the female protagonist, the BJ star, who overwhelmed by the international fame ended up disowning her role in the movie, became a reborn Christian and died penniless in a car accident. The documentary, beating at the bouncy vibe of 70’s disco music, also presents a series of hilarious interviews with famous people of the era, among which stand out the writer Gore Vidal, Hugh Hefner my Playboy editor, the amazing writer Erica Jong, the feminist Camille Paglia, Norman Mailer star of the New York intellectual scene, the very funny and very competent sex-therapist Doctor Ruth (one of the sources of inspiration of this blog) Larry Flynt editor of Hustler magazine (have you seen Milos Forman’s great movie about his life? Do it), besides images of Hollywood stars supporting the movie when it was release in theaters in 1972, among which Dennis Hopper, Warren Beatty, Jack Nicholson (what a pack of fucking womanizers!). Even the posh and snob Kennedy widow, Mrs. Jackie was caught by paparazzi fleeing a movie theater in Times Square where she went to see the dirty movie. The fact is the movie – in itself grotesque and utterly mild for today’s porn standards – validated a practice, fellatio, at the time still regarded as a sexually deviant act and even a crime in the most puritan states of the country. The idea that a woman could take pleasure in a sexual act that didn’t contemplate procreation was, still in the Seventies in USA, seen as an obscenity. A woman’s right to pleasure, to pure and simple sexual pleasure, wasn’t recognized much less respected. The movie also emphasizes the clitoral orgasm, something quite unknown at the time: the silly movie plot sees the protagonist, Linda Lovelace, unable to reach orgasm through penetration (Hey Linda, you are not alone!). She therefore goes to see a doctor, played by Harry Reems, who in a hilarious scene discovers that she does have a clitoris, only ‘the little button’, as he calls it, is misplaced in her throat, not on her vagina. She bursts out in tears and he tells her: ‘Well, better in your throat that not having it at all.’ Her answer: ‘How would you feel if you had your balls on your ears?’. In short, the movie is bullshit but it brought to the attention of the public and of the media (a journalist of the New York Times wrote a piece about the movie entitled Porn Chic) the issue of clitoral orgasm. The amazing and determined sex-therapist Doctor Ruth (read here about this extraordinary little woman, she was quite short, of Jewish-German roots who has also been a sniper for the Israeli army) in her TV shows, in which she talked in a frank and open way about sexual issues to puritan America in those years, says it at her best in the documentary: ‘People wanted women to believe that a vaginal orgasm (implying penetration and a possible procreation – the pill was about to come out) was better/stronger/more orgasmatic than a clitoral one. Absolutely not true.’ Paraphrasing the famous Gertrude Stein and her ‘a rose is a rose is a rose’ I fiercely collect the legacy left by our feminist pioneers and boldly reaffirm ‘an orgasm is an orgasm is an orgasm’. Period. Now I proceed to wrap up this feminist pamphlet because in my role of good, very good, lover, I await the coming, cumming, of my man to celebrate the BJ day in style. In very decadent style. On my knees. Your significant other on St Valentine’s brought you flowers and wined and dined you? Has he invested in cute gifts? Has he endured the sight of couples in love at the restaurant? Well, girls and boys, tonight is your chance to reward his patience by kneeling down at his feet and giving them, for once, a great gift: the gift of OPENING YOUR MOUTH WIDE WITHOUT UTTERING A SINGLE WORD! PS. Please, until the very last drop …