Jan

25

Celibate At Sexpo (But Not By Choice)

Filed Under sexcapades 

[This originally ran Jan. 2005 in Oui Magazine where I was doing a monthly column, "Adventures of an Average Joe." Some of the links might be outdated.]

The Christmas season is a strange time for a porn journalist. Everything is a run-up to the Adult Video News convention/awards in Vegas in early January. I call it “Sexpo” for short. Rolls off the tongue so easily, like vaginal dew drops from Goddess of Gush Cytherea’s slit. (Smart-asses will note that Sexpo is already taken as the name of Australia’s big adult-industry gathering. Hey, if it’s good enough for those sheep-fuckers, it’s good enough for me.)

I started the season by going to “Belladonna’s Legendary XXXmas Bash!” This Belladonna’s not the porn star, but the owner of dancer-for-hire firm NYC Super Strippers (nycsuperstrippers.com). She emailed an irresistible invite in early December. I got a stiffy just reading it:

“Lesbian shows that will run non-stop all night! Many many beautiful young ladies: all the girls you see on my site and many you have never seen before… will be available for private shows, lap dances, body shots, role play sessions, fetish, s&m, back rubs, lap dances, private shows, etc. There are many private rooms for you to get a little up close and personal with the girls of your choice—within reason of course. At the bar we will have the most wild playful crazy and outrageous topless hottie-barmaids to get you drunk and silly! In the lounge area topless waitresses will serve you drinks if you are too ‘preoccupied’ and can’t get up to get your drink.”

Bella turned out a crew of cute chicks, but I mainly wanted to see the promised showstopper, a gang-bang with two “XXX film stars: Tatiana Stone, a hot hard-body blonde and Lucy Lucy, a freaky slim, petite Latin girl.” The description of Ms. Stone caught my eye. I googled her, and found her site, nycblonde.com. I have a tendency to become, if not quite obsessed, at least fascinated with certain porn sluts. It’s easier when you don’t know much about them, of course, because you can mold them in your imagination like a lump of clay into a perfect fantasy. The effect is ruined when you learn that they’re a head-case with a shitload of problems.

So for a week before Bella’s party, I carried around in my brain this lovely image of Tatiana Stone. But she never showed. To Bella’s and the other babes’ credit, most of the guests seemed to have a blast, lost in lap-dance Heaven. Tatiana’s absence, however, took things down a notch for me.

Then there was the New Year’s Eve Voyeur’s Ball (nexusnyc.com) with Jenna Jameson. I was invited by Skin (skinparty.com), an upscale erotic-lifestyle group that throws mixers around the country for couples and “adventurous” single girls. Getting Jenna was a coup, but she was just the icing on a cake that was filled with delectable women. True, most were with men, but I met three hot bi-babes—a stripper and her stockbroker friends—who came to scope other gals. “We’d love to hook up with Jenna and do her back at her hotel,” the stripper told me. It wasn’t such a crazy idea. Jenna is outspoken about her carpet-munching proclivities. And these were just the kind of sexy fun-loving girls that could stir her juices. Alas, the girls would leave before Jenna arrived, but they did take turns sucking face on the dance floor with a cute Iranian chick. One of the stockbrokers, Donna, told me she regretted not being able to do porn (her father would disown her), but she wanted me to take photos of her “in real sexy outfits in a hot setting, like on a huge bed with satin sheets.” She wants proof when she’s 90 of how smokin’ she was as a young woman. We’re still trying to set up that photo session.

The following week it was on to Sexpo in Vegas where I kept crossing paths with available snatch only to let it slip away each time. From a platonic encounter with a Mai Tai-guzzling porn chick in the back of a Ford, to an orgy where I was the odd man out, I once again proved myself clueless when it comes to procuring pussy. Sexpo 2005 brought thousands of people together for everything from deal-making to partying to brownnosing the adult industry’s elite. For me it will always be about all the fine pieces of ass I didn’t get.

I befriended a hot up-and-cummer, Angel Fallen, who told me she got into the business because she’s fed up with “relationship sex” and wants to “get better at casual sex.” Did I offer to help Angel refine her casual-sex skills? Did I ask her to show me what she’s learned so far? Nope. I acted like a born-again virgin. A perfect gentleman. We merely spent a few hours in the Venetian Hotel’s casino playing slots. I never even inquired if HER slot was open that night. We were so close to the casino’s immaculate restrooms. A real “player” would have swooped Angel into one of the stalls. It was late enough that our corner of the casino was empty. Sure, there’s always the “eye in the sky” security cams, but they track misbehavior at the gambling tables, not horny guests making improper use of the toilets. There’s always a chance security guards would have kicked in the stall door on Angel and me, but it would have been worth the risk. But this is all “could have, would have, should have” shit, because I never rolled the dice with Angel. Soon she had to return to her room for a few hours’ shut-eye before signing autographs and posing for fan photos the next morning.

Sexpo reminded me of that joke: What’s the difference between a slut and a bitch? A slut fucks everybody. A bitch fucks everyone but you.

Not that Angel had a trace of bitchiness. She was so sweet, I’m ambivalent writing about her and helping to publicly define her as an adult actress. She’s the kind of girl you want to protect from the world. Part of me wishes she had been nowhere near Sexpo, and just another beautiful unknown studying to be a schoolteacher or shrink in some small town a million miles from the moth-to-a-flame “glitz” of the porn biz. A dull life, perhaps, but with little of the drugs, dirt bags and other dangers rampant in porn.

There’s only two kinds of girls I want to see enter porn: worthless, depraved chicks who love nothing more than hurting people (porn’s the perfect place for them to get what’s coming to them) and at the other extreme, ambitious young women with enough brainpower and emotional maturity to use their on-screen appeal to gain success without getting chewed up by the business. I’d be stunned if Angel Fallen is the former; if she’s truly determined to make it in porn, I’d love to help her turn out to be the latter.
The night of the AVN Awards Dinner I hung out with Julie, a big-breasted Latina who runs an adult video store in Chicago. Somehow we ended up with her girlfriends in the suite of a young porn director/performer. Given what ensued, I won’t give his name and possibly cause trouble for him with his girlfriend or wife or whatever.

Julie was into me, but lots of liquor and virtually no sleep the last few nights had thrown her into a semi-vegetative state. Adding to this unpromising situation, a nasty cold that had been building all day had finally overtaken me. My nose was like Cytherea’s cunt; a Kleenex factory couldn’t have stopped the flow.

But I was undeterred. I did my best to get Julie and me some privacy by convincing her to come away from the beds where everyone was hanging out (fully clothed at this point) over to the couch. Our repeated attempts at kissing were interrupted, not by another human, but either by Julie falling asleep with my tongue in her mouth (a great boost to my ego) or by Niagara Falls starting up again in my nose.

Then something even more powerful distracted us. Moans and groans filled the suite. It was too dark to make out the details, but we could see that the young porn director and his pal were getting it on with Julie’s friends. Julie and I looked at each other in amazement. I had no desire to join the orgy. I would have preferred just one-on-one with Julie, who for what it’s worth was the cutest girl there. But neither of us had the energy. It was like a wet dream gone bad: There I am in a sex-drenched room with a girl that I’d love to nail, and I’ve been totally sidelined. It was also my only shot with Julie, who flew back to Chicago that morning.

Aside from the women, one of the things I enjoyed most about Sexpo was hanging out with porn actor Dino Bravo. He’s one of the most charismatic guys in the jizz biz. (Check out his hilarious work in “The Chunky Whisperer.”) He’s also got the kind of name that makes you think, “This is someone big.” Even if you never heard of him, his name is colorful enough to convince you that you have. I had fun at the Venetian’s Circle Bar, where many of the porn folk gathered in the evenings, approaching girls and saying, “Dino Bravo would like to meet you.” Or, “Dino Bravo requests your presence.” More than a few girls took the bait. I don’t think it’s because they all knew him, but because his name commands compliance.

Dino was hired to do a scene in Vegas with Lexxy Foxx and Trinity Post for Wildkitty.com. We picked up Lexxy, a luscious blonde with huge tits, at her hotel to take her to the set. She asked me if I was going to be in the scene. When I told her that I was just going to write about it, she said that’s too bad, she’d like for me to be in it. I was hard as a rock just thinking about fucking her. With a little schmoozing, I probably could have convinced the director, “Wild Nick D,” to let me get comfortable with Lexxy on camera. It could have meant nice publicity for him, having a writer from Oui in his flick. But once again, I didn’t seize the moment. I was just thrilled that Lexxy had brought it up.

At least a small part of me got action in Vegas. Luscious Brooke Haven (ladirectmodels.com/Brooke_Haven.htm) gave me a lesson in getting chicks off with a pocket rocket. It was part of a casting video for my pal, Scottish pornmeister Gazzman, last year’s AVN winner for Best Foreign Director. I also got to dip my digits in Ms. Haven’s honey pot, but that was it. “You have no idea how fuckin’ jealous I am of my fingers,” I told her. (You can check out the clip at gazzman.com.)

A British porn journalist I know calls Sexpo “the biggest gathering of bimbos who you can forget about fucking.” So true, so true.

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