Going Down in La-La Land (15 page)

“
Uh, it’s not really my thing,” I stammered, trying to word it lightly. I was glad we had cleared that up ahead of time.

My directions were to read the filthy words scribbled on the walls and then to start playing with myself, at which point Paul would enter and then the action gets started. I felt like a real moron as I traced my finger along the wall and read out loud “Suck my dick!” and “Lick my balls!”

I tried to do it in a manner that sounded really erotic, but I’m sure I came off as idiotic instead. When that was done, and not a moment too soon, Paul came in dressed as a mechanic complete with grease stains on his hands, arms, and face. Within seconds my dick was in his mouth, and Tommy’s voice was in the background fervently coaching us on, instructions fluttering out of his mouth.

“
Okay, now go faster! Nibble on the end a little bit! Slap it across your face some! Now spit on it!” he yelled out in his hyper voice.

Before long all the clothes came off. Paul lived up to his reputation for eating ass, and while he was doing it I was amazed at how thorough he was.

“
Oh!” I yelped out a few times, squirming my butt around the wet, ticklish sensation. I’m sure my eyes were captured on camera almost rolling to the back of my head.

We switched positions around and it was my turn to go down on Paul. His body was nice and smooth, and his dick a nice size. It was large, but still possible to take the whole thing in one’s mouth, not monstrously gigantic like the billionaire’s.

“
Good job, Adam!” Tommy cheered.

At this point I was having fun and really getting into it. It wasn’t so bad having sex in front of people I had just met, and there was not a moment when I was not aroused. Toward the end, while the camera was being reloaded, I got really horny and said to Paul “You know what I would really love? Is if you could blow your wad all over my chest and the side of my face. Just don’t nut in my eye, okay?”

“
You got it,” Paul smiled.

Tommy turned his attention back to us and began giving Paul instructions on what to do when it came time to come.

“
Uh, he wants me to come all over his chest and face,” Paul offered.

“
Great. Go to it!” Tommy agreed.

In minutes and I was covered in jizz from my chin to my belly.

Now it was my turn to film my money shot. Tommy had Paul turn his back to me and lean against the sink. He instructed me to place my cock against the crack of his ass.

“
Can you come without touching your dick?” Tommy asked.

“
Sure,” I answered, feeling pretty confident and as horny as possible.

Sliding my dick up and down his crack, from Paul’s lower back to his hole, I prepared to explode. “Move your arm, it’s blocking the view!” Tommy screamed out, not wanting to miss the climax and most important part of a scene. About thirty seconds later I shot a straight stream of semen up Paul’s back, hitting the nape of his neck where a little glob attached to his hair.

Tommy shouted in glee, very pleased with the outcome. It was a wrap!

Afterward I headed back to clean myself up. By this time a few more models had arrived and were hanging around waiting for their turn in front of the camera. At some point I spotted a huge bodybuilder with a pretty-boy face. He had on jeans, a white T-shirt, and black leather jacket, and he carried a motorcycle helmet. Basically he was every gay man’s fantasy, straight out of
Playgirl.
If they had asked me to stay and do another scene with him for free, I probably would have said yes. But I was too proud to volunteer.

Shit. This town was turning me into a bigger male whore than I ever thought possible.

I gathered that this was Bobby Steelhard, the star of the production. He said hello to me and sounded a bit like a moose. Not that it mattered. He was making more money with his buff body than anything I could do with my English literature degree. At this point in life, who was I to judge? I stepped into the bathroom and Bobby followed, checking himself out in the mirror and making a crack about the place. He seemed to be paying me some attention, perhaps because he thought his scene was with me. Or, dare I say, because he wanted to have his scene with me. After all, I was a pretty good-looking find, and feeling cocky after my successful debut! It came as a surprise he was being so chummy, since a lot of the perfect-looking guys, especially the gay-for-pay ones, had plenty of attitude and made it clear they were there for the bucks, not for socializing.

“
Adam, you did great,” Tommy’s voice boomed as he stuck his head in the bathroom. “I see you’ve met Bobby,” he smiled.

“
I sure did,” I smiled back.

“
Why don’t you guys come join us in the kitchen? We ordered a ton of food from Koo Koo Roo,” Tommy said.

Comparing the sizes of Tommy and Bobby, not to mention the other people there, I was sure that they had in fact ordered a ton of poultry. Following Tommy and Bobby out to the table, the crew and other guys were already grabbing pieces of chicken and scooping bright orange macaroni on their plates. Lunch conversation revolved around the banal, such as recent movies seen or somebody’s move into a new apartment. Later, when most of the people had wondered off to set up or get ready or whatever it was they needed to do, I was left with Tommy.

“
You know, Adam, you were really terrific earlier. With your looks and attitude you can go a long way in this business,” Tommy said while smearing grease off his hands with a napkin. He stopped short of saying “looks and talent.” Tommy was a realist, and that’s what I liked most about him. This job might require a certain attitude and ability, but talent, no way. Mostly what it required was either a big dick or a great body, preferably both.

“
What do you mean by long way?” I asked.

“
Top billing, travel, money from a Web site, escorting, stripping,” he said matter-of-factly.

“
Higher fees for shoots?” I asked wryly.

Tommy put on his best Missy Manhandler smile and said, “Yes, higher rates.”

“
Cool,” I answered.

Tommy “Missy Manhandler” then proceeded to write me out a check for $800, and we said our good-byes.

I walked out of the garage and back to my car, which thankfully was ticket free. As I drove home I pondered my further leap into the porn world. Prior to this I had only jerked off for the camera and posed nude, which didn’t seem as severe in my mind. Today I suppose I really crossed the line into taboo terrain. Not exactly the kind of Hollywood production I had dreamed about being in for as long as I could remember.

I wasn’t as ashamed as I was just plain numb. That and relieved to have money in my pocket. I was living my life one day at a time, waiting for the moment when a better opportunity or a way out from my current desperation opened up. I felt like I had no direction in my life, and was more misguided than ever. I was just striving to pay my bills and get through each week.

I couldn’t even remember how I got to this point. I suppose there are millions out there in the same circumstances, just in a different environment. Like the countless single moms working at Wal-Mart and wondering how they are going to get through the month. At least I didn’t have a few kids to feed.

So I was immortalized copulating on film. I was closer to being Jeff Stryker than Jeff Goldblum, or any other legit actor for that matter. There was nothing I could do about it now. One thing was for sure, I wasn’t going to beat myself up when I was already down, and that was one revelation I could take from this whole experience.

When I confided to Candy about what I’d done, she was concerned but realized all had been done, no use crying over spilled milk. So her concern quickly turned to reassuring me.

“
I wouldn’t worry about it. Do you know how much of that porno shit is out there? There are millions of videos and Web sites and magazines. Nobody will ever notice,” Candy said reassuringly when I told her about this latest event.

In fact, she sounded exactly like Dale had that day in the warehouse.

“
At least you can be grateful you were able to make a few bucks doing that,” she went on. “You could be ugly and fat and flat broke with even less options.”

That was Candy for you, always listening, always looking at the glass as half full, always trying to make you feel better. You could inadvertently run over a sweet old lady and she’d find a way to make you feel better about it.

She would joke constantly about how she was so good at giving advice, despite the disarray of her own personal and professional life.

“
I’d rather manage other people’s shit,” she’d laugh. “It’s like their lives are more manageable. Give your shit to me.”

Getting back to the matter at hand, I sighed, “Well, either way it’s done. You can’t put an egg back together once it’s been broken.”

“
Exactly. So don’t beat yourself up,” Candy ordered. “It’s not the end of the world. You know what you need to stop turning this over in your mind? A little Mae West!”

Popping in a Mae West flick was what Candy and I did to unwind. Her famous one-liners were right up our alley. We loved the way she strutted around with her overt sexuality, wrote all her own material, and was revolutionary as a sex symbol, surrounding herself with bodybuilders and playing the game by her own rules. Even when the plots reached ridiculous heights, her films were still genius.

It comforted me to think that just as Mae broke down sexual barriers in the early part of the century, I did the same today, although in a far less hilarious and creative manner. Perhaps I was thinking a bit too highly of myself.

As Candy put a movie in I flopped on the couch and thought about our conversation. She was right. It wasn’t the end of the world, just a drastic turn in
my
world.

If indeed I was spiraling out of control, I had too many distractions to think about it. I was caught up in a series of surreal events, living my life one day to the next without much of a long-term plan. Almost a week had gone by since my porn debut, and in the meantime I had done a few more nude layouts to promote my new career as a full-fledged gay porn star.

“
Missy really took a liking to you!” Ron gushed to me. “She plans on using you again very soon. You were born to do this, Adam.”

Dale was slightly more tactful, and even seemed to be looking out for me.

“
So how was it?” he asked. “Did everyone treat you okay?”

“
Yeah,” I answered in a no-big-deal voice, putting up a tough front. “It was fine. They were all really cool.”

“
Good. If you ever have any questions or concerns, or feel that something’s not right, you’re being taken advantage of, whatever, give me a call,” he said with a genuine look on his face.

“
You got it,” I said. “Thanks.”

“
No problem. I got you covered,” Dale answered, then winked and gave me a pat on the ass. Now I was sure his intentions went beyond just business.

One night after a long day shipping out pornos from here to Timbuktu, Candy greeted me at the door with a mischievous gleam in her eye. I could already tell she was up to no good.

A night on the town with Candy was never an ordinary event. Invariably something strange or unusual happened to make the evening stand apart from the usual dinner and a few drinks. Therefore, I always prepared myself to expect anything, no matter how freaky a turn our circumstances took. Sometimes we made plans at the last minute.

Candy had been trying to meet quality men in LA for some time with no luck whatsoever. Things with her and Frank were coming to an end. He came into town only occasionally, and when he did he got as drunk as a skunk. Dean was still a no-good loser not even worth calling when suffering from crippling boredom.

So Candy took out an ad in
LA Weekly,
looking for men. In the ad she stressed she was looking for a man that would help support her, so it was a weird hybrid of a singles ad mixed with that of an escort. Basically, she was looking to be a kept woman, now that Frank was soon to be out of the picture. In addition to her ad in
LA Weekly,
she figured she would give the Internet a try, like so many other folks nowadays. After all, the men she met on AOL couldn’t be any worse than the guys out at clubs and bars.

And it was on AOL that she was first introduced to the slave who wrote her an e-mail stating he would cater to her every need. The slave was a middle-aged man who got thrills out of being dominated and ordered around by beautiful women. When he kept pestering Candy to let him clean her house for her, take out the garbage, do various chores, and whatever else she asked of him, she eventually permitted this guy to come over to her place and do exactly all of the above.

“
Are you out of your fucking mind?” I asked in disbelief when she first told me about the guy.

“
Relax, Adam,” Candy said with a flip of her manicured hand. She made it sound as though she were ordering pizza or some other routine thing. “I’ll only have him over when you or Dean are here.”

“
Great,” I shot back in irritation, “so we can all be hacked up into little pieces together.”