Porn Star Look

I was watching a TV show about transsexuals the other day and it got me to thinking about porn star looks. I am intrigued by how transsexuals paint their faces. Especially the pre op ones who often make livelihoods from porn and other adult themed affairs. After all they have lived as both man and woman. They are women who have the privileged insight of knowing genuinely what a man really wants and likes. So is this Barbie face and fashion really what men find attractive deep down or are they just copying what is routine of their industry/culture? Being the complete opposite of “the effortless” look maybe it’s about who worked the hardest to create their image.

As if I haven’t already expressed this enough, porn is all about fantasy land and so I suppose that’s why the porno look is so exaggerated and OTT because it’s a fantasy look abit like the fantasy look of little green men in a sci fi movie.

Big blue eyes, big hair, perfect large tits, legs that go on forever, tiny waists, make up applied with a shot gun. Although this last one is debatable as I’ve only ever heard one guy say he likes make up on women. He wanted to pay me to sit in front of a web cam whilst he watched and apply heavy heavy make up with big red lips. I’m sure this act in itself is a fetish somewhere along the way.

I think it’s more the norm for men to prefer the au natural look but there is no questioning that make up accentuates a woman’s features and so smokey come to bed eyes with rouged cheeks, thick lashes and plump red lips could be derivative of this.

If you put a sagging pair of lopsided tits next to a firm round buxom and perfectly formed pair of double Fs naturally your mind will select the later as the better as its aesthetically more pleasing.

When comparing opposite ends of the glamour spectrum Jordan and Dita Von Teese one can argue both have the makeup applied with a shot gun look yet one is labelled demure, stylish and chic and the other slutty and trashy. In my mind I would say Ditas look is more appealing to women and Jordan’s to men. Both try to emphasize a woman’s beauty through glamour with the contrasts simply fashioned from different eras.

Interestingly id say transgender that don’t work in the adult entertainment business and modestly try to live a down to earth and “typical” lifestyle adopt a more Dita look.

Porn style as well as porn in general seems to be one area where more is more. More cock, more tits, more spunk, more noise, just... more!

All performers have a wardrobe to adorn when they go to work but who invented the “porn star” look?

Certainly if you went back to the 70s and look at porn like Deep Throat I don’t think the women there look anything like the Barbie’s of today.

Maybe for some this mask is a hiding place for aspects of an otherwise unsatisfied life. The more grandiose the mask the bigger the problems.

Me personally I hate make up. I hate getting my nails done, I hate big hair although it does aid immensely with getting into this glamour puss character that my porno self becomes.

Lights, Camera, Action

The minutes soon ticked by and Neil was ready to start clicking away with his camera.
Neil hadn’t gotten a drink at the bar and I was pacing myself through mine. I wasn’t a big drinker and a glass of coke could easily last me three hours in a bar.

I was a cheap date.

He asked me to sit on the sofa while he ran some test shots to check his lighting and then off we went. He directed me through poses. Subtle changes or he’d change angle altogether before asking me to progress the scene. The images should tell a storey. A simple and unimaginative one in this case merely depicting me starting off dressed and slowly stripping out of my black dress then my bra and finally my thong. I tried to remember the posses the girls pulled in the porn mags Id read before to help me. He asked me to hold my breasts or squeeze them together. To spread my legs a little wider and to spread my pussy lips so everyone could see exactly what was going on down there. Id never showed off to a boyfriend like this before so it really was a new experience for me. And I never masturbated.

Once I was naked he grabbed the pink vibrator and passed it to me. He said there were no batteries in the jelly like machine so I only needed to pose with it. Hold it to my hole or insert it slightly.

In time id discover many “amateur” photographers would expect me to insert fingers and dildos and actually masturbate myself. I didn’t understand why at first. It was only pictures so I didn’t need to physically go through the motions just put things where they should be and stay still in a pose. Neil, my first professional photographer and all the other professional photographers that followed didn’t expect me to do that. Initially I thought it’s because they, the amateurs, didn’t really know what they were doing. They didn’t know how the pros did things properly.

Later id work out it was simply that they were closet pervs. Some wouldn’t possess a video camera for which you would be required to act out a masturbation scene so rather than miss out they’d ask you to do it for real but just take still images. Others just couldn’t control themselves and once you had your vibe in hand they’d be all “Oh, can you move it about abit. In and out?

These guys didn’t really care a blind bit about photos or art or getting into making porno movies themselves. They just wanted a live wank show. It became easier to placate them then try to insist you were a professional model and should be respected as such. Often if you played their game and complied they’d book you again or give you a tip.

Neil laid my foundations. He showed me the ropes and how things “should” be done.

I was busy posing with a pink jelly vibrator up my twat with my legs in the air when he said “OK, that will do me”. We must have been working for about 45 minutes.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get a little turned on showing off in this provocative way in front of Neil even though he was in no way attractive to me. I had to switch off to the physical aspect of my real time audience but still have the enthusiasm I would have if I was doing this in private to some gorgeous bloke id been chatting up all evening in the pub and managed to convince to come home with me. It was strange but stranger still it wasn’t so hard. I was still anxious throughout and that took a lot of my concentration not to mention actually concentrating on posing. I didn’t have time to think about how weird this all was. How unnatural.

I sat there not sure what to do next. I was naked in a small generic looking hotel room. He asked me to grab my denim jacket and put that on. I lay on the bed and he started to shoot again but he couldn’t really do another series of shots as I didn’t have much to strip out of. So the second set was more of a mess around. A time killer. Then Neil made a suggestion.

As I briefly said before Neil laid my foundations that day. He also laid me.

Dutch Courage

I finished up my work with great haste that afternoon but inevitably everything that possibly could go wrong did. I usually didn’t mind working late to finish tasks but tonight I was going to strip off in front of a perfect stranger in a hotel room and let him take pictures of me that were quite likely going to end up in a top shelf men’s magazine somewhere for an audience far greater than just that one stranger to see.

At least I knew what I was getting into...sort of!

I had decided the only way to time this right was to get a taxi back home instead of the bus. Could I hail a cab? Could I fuck. One eventually turned up although i was starting to panic. I told him to drop me at the Off Licence at the end of my street so I could pick up a bottle of wine. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous but not nearly as much as I believe a normal human being should have been. It was more an impatient excitement. The wine was for Dutch courage in case this fear I thought I should be experiencing suddenly materialised at the eleventh hour. I was adamant I was not going to bottle it but at the same time I was kind of looking for excuses to not let it happen.

I flew threw my front door and quickly showered and shaved my legs and ‘bits’. I re applied my makeup and freshened up my hair style, my glass of wine in hand. Id decided what lingerie to take with me. I’d been planning that all afternoon.

I had a cute yet sexy little number compromising of a purple and pink lace demi bra and matching thong. I was more worried about what outerwear to wear to the meeting. We were meeting in a hotel so should I dress up like some kind of discreet yet sexy hooker or was this part just matter of fact and part of the logistics? Did I still need to make an impression at this point or was it in the bag?

I opted for a simple black linen dress that was smart casual with my denim jacket over the top. That should cover all bases. I put my undies in my hand bag and hailed another taxi back into town and to the hotel wed agreed to meet in.

As I walked into the hotel bar an average looking guy gave me a cautious look before calling my name. He didn’t look like a murderous slime ball. He just looked like your typical non descript 30 something. He asked if I wanted a drink at the bar before we started. I guess he figured if it was my first time I could do with some Dutch courage as well. He was likely to be just as worried as I was that id flake out before things got underway.

I took him up on his offer not wanting to appear rude and also wanting to buy myself some time to find my comfort zone.

My glass of red wine and I followed Neil to his room where he had photographic lights and equipment all over the floor. This made me relax as this confirmed we were going to be doing what he’d said we would be doing. I kept an eye on my drink though. I didn’t want him slipping me something nasty although I was confident he wouldn’t.

He asked me what id bought to wear and I showed him my delicious lingerie set hoping it would impress him as much as it did me. “Ok” he said looking abit miffed. “We can do one set with that”. I had no idea that what Neil was trying to say was that he’d overlooked the fact that as a newbie I wouldn’t know how much lingerie to bring with me so I took his request to bring some lingerie literally and only had one set with me. It became apparent that communication wasn’t Neil’s greatest quality as rather than explain that I should have bought several sets with me he just muddled through and it wouldn’t be until I really started to look into the business, contacting people and learning the ropes that id realise I needed a small suitcase load full of lingerie plus actual outfits for a shoot.

As you can see I was learning even from day one.

I sat and drank my wine as Neil set up his kit. He pulled two boxes containing phallic looking plastic vibrators out and asked if I’d be comfortable using them. He assured me they were brand new but the fact that what he was getting at was that they weren’t pre used and therefore possibly contaminated with germs and bacteria that could give me an infection passed me by in all the excitement of what was going on around me.

I told him that was fine and it genuinely was. I could sense his disappointment even though I didn’t know the reason was because of the lack of outfits so I would have said yes even if I wasn’t comfortable using the sex toys.

First Steps

Sorry to suddenly flip stories but after my short sabbatical I felt like writing about my beginnings.

I’ve told you about alot of my firsts in porno but I’m yet to divulge the tale of my first EVER shoot. My stepping stone into the surreal underworld that is sometimes rightly, sometimes wrongly judged yet always intriguing, that is the sex industry. The beginning of my new vocation. The taster that got my juice buds suculating enough to make me want to experience more.

This shoot, my first journey into the business of pornography was a full nine months before I made a conscious effort to pursue porn as a career. I was simply testing the water. Playing a game and just trying to have some fun. I wanted to do something wild and daring and totally unlike the real me. I wanted to not be me for a while.

I found an advert in The Stage newspaper from a guy looking for females for adult photographic work. It said no experience necessary and new comers welcome. I built up the courage to call this guy one lunch time. He sounded nice. He asked me what I looked like, how old I was. He said he would travel to my town with all his equipment and book a hotel to shoot in if I couldn’t shoot from my own home. This sounded like a plan. So far so good but I wasn’t prepared for him to say could I make it that evening? Eeek!

My brain raced. Could I make it that evening? Did I even want to do it that same evening? Was I ready that soon? Id assumed it would be arranged in advance and that I would have time to build up to the big day. I knew I wouldn’t chicken out, when I set my heart and mind to something I do it but id really been hoping I’d have some time to get used to the idea and come to terms with what I was about to get myself into.

I told him this was my first time. This could have been a grave error as I opened myself up and laid bare my biggest weakness to a complete stranger. This could have been the magic words to a psycho but my instincts were telling me this was the right thing to do. I wasn’t thinking of dramatics. I was being positive and making sure he knew I wasn’t a pro to cover my back when I would no doubt turn up looking like a rabbit caught in the head lights. I was more worried he’d not pay me because I didn’t do a good enough job than getting raped and murdered. I figured if I was honest with him he’d help me along and coach me through the experience. I really had no idea what happened at an adult photo shoot. Not even enough to forge together a rough idea.

He, Neil, said that he’d pay me £50 cash per hour. Considering I was used to getting just £5 an hour in my then job, £50 was like winning the lottery. He said it would only take an hour or so. I dont recall if he expalined what end use the pictures would have. I didnt know the difference between pro or am in those early days. i didnt know there were hobbiests so i guess i must have assumed at the least that he was a pro.

He was only going to take pictures of me on my own in sexy poses. He asked if I was ok with spreading my legs and I assured him that was fine and it really didn’t bother me in the slightest. I knew this wasn’t going to be some glossy glamour shoot such as those soft and tasteful ones seen in lad mags. I was fully aware that this was top shelf magazine stuff. Naughty, rude, no frills images of me baring myself in all my glory. It was almost worrying how unfazed I was by this notion. I wasn’t erotically excited by it at all either. I was excited but more so by the thought of doing something so different. So unlike me. Of stepping into the unknown and doing something that took confidence. Now I reflect that it also took stupidity and desperation.

Neil wasn’t pushy, it was my own irrational fear that if I said no to his suggestion of shooting that night that I might lose out altogether. Never one to miss out I gathered my thoughts as quick as I could and worked out that yes I could make it that evening. Only just mind. I’d have to grab a taxi home from work to bath, shave my pegs and re do my hair and makeup and collect some lingerie and then cab it back into town. It would be a rush but what the hell. ‘Let’s do it’ I thought.

I put the phone down on a high, buzzing from the adrenaline rush. I still didn’t know where id got the courage from to make the call. I thought I’d be more nervous about that evening impending activities but I didn’t have enough of an idea of what was to happen to be that way. I didn’t have any expectations or aspirations. I was just going to go along and see what happened. I couldn’t think to hard about something I didn’t know anything about and I was glad as I couldn’t talk myself out of it.

I had a smug air about me that afternoon and a naughty glint in my eye knowing that I had just created this hugely controversial secret about myself. I suddenly felt all grown up and adored.

Opening Doors

Peter picked me up at my flat one morning after our first successful shoot and drove me to his little studio in the Summerset countryside.

On the way he said he needed to pop into PC World for some techy stuff for his kit. I milled around the store aimlessly trying not to get in Peters way. He picked up what he needed and we went and stood in the queue to pay. As we did he pointed out some printers on special offer. He asked if I had a printer for my little laptop. I had an old black and white one that had seen better days and cost more than its own value to keep in fresh ink. Peter picked up a printer from the top of the pile and stated that he would buy it for me. I tried to argue that he didn’t need to and what the heck for but he was very persistent and clinched the deal with “you can owe me ok!” so I agreed. I kind of felt uncomfortable that some guy id only really just met was buying me £100 printers for no apparent reason but I figured he wouldn’t have put up such a fight if he didn’t want me to have it.

When we got to his studio he showed me around. It was small and grubby round the edges but fit its purpose and its environment was quaint. He quickly set up using a pale back drop. He told me to strip off and explained what poses I was to get into. We did some standing, some lying down and some sitting up. All tasteful but simple.

It felt like only ten minutes had gone by when he said “All done. Give us a hug and get dressed”. I got up and put my arms around his neck and planted a sisterly kiss on his cheek accompanied by a thank you. We went down stairs to his office and he played the images back to me on his computer. He said he’d give them all to me on a disk but he taught me how to delete images and rotate them and how to change them into black and white. How to make my teeth and eyes whiter and how to print the pictures out on glossy paper with a fancy border round them on my new printer ready to place in my book. I was awe struck. Wow. Now I could edit my own pictures and play with them to make them look more appealing for my portfolio.

My first proper portfolio images. Now I felt like a real model not just someone being paid to have sex.

I emailed my new images out to people and got defensive when I got unflattering comments back about how black and white images meant they couldn’t tell my skin tone or how this image or that didn’t really show my body off very well. What were these people going on about? Couldn’t they see how great these pictures were?

Peter chatted to me on the way back telling me all about his adventures in porn and life in general. Who he knew and who he had fallen out with. I didn’t notice at the time as he seemed so nice and generous but in retrospect he did have alot of enemies. I decided it must be these other people who were the baddies. Peter was too nice.

Peter started telling me about a guy he was working with to build a website and how they were looking for some girls to build sites for too. He had another model he was good friends with – they had similar tastes and she had agreed to do a site with them and now that offer was extended to me. It wasn’t quite ready to go just yet but that meant id have time to build up some content ready for my new site. I’d get 50% of the profits made from people signing up to the site to see pictures of me doing... well doing everything and anything really. Sounded easy peasy. Peter even said he’d take the photos to help me out.

A website sounded like a good way to earn money for not doing very much but it also sounded very permanent. Although I was taking the business seriously I still had no ideas about how long term my new career would be. I was still prepared in the back of my head for the work to just stop one day soon and to realise that that was my lot, time to go back to the rat race. A website gave me some dept in my new role. It was something that wouldn’t just go away one day.

Stick Wit Choo

So you see there is more to being a dumb blonde porn chic or ditzy glamour girl than simply throwing poses in well... not very much at all and it’s not all just laying on my back having the time of my life getting shagged senseless.

Somewhere in there, there is a business woman, a PR exec, a makeup artist, a personal trainer, a driver or chauffer, a secretary, an agent, a wardrobe assistant and on and on and on.

If I had to be honest id say for every day I spend on back of house stuff I do one hour of actual paid work.

Talking of paid work I managed to befriend one of the industries core players who became one of my main bookers for a period of time.

I was passed Peters number by an amateur photographer. At the end of the shoot the guy wrote down a number and said he knew Peter, who was a long standing professional photographer in the business, was always interested in new girls and that I should give him a call, so I did. Turns out Peter was passing my way later that day so asked if he could stop by for an informal chat to see what I looked like and discuss how he works. I didn’t know any better at the time and Peter sounded nice enough and pretty much promised me work over the phone so I agreed to meet in order to seal the deal. I didn’t have any issues with him popping by like this but over the years I became aware that nine times out of ten anyone asking to come and meet you pre shoot was a time waster or something equally as dodgy but most likely just looking for a free shag. Sometimes I get quite offended when I think about how stupid some people perceive women and models in particular to be.

So really Peter was lucky I was still new and naive as I wouldn’t have entertained that notion for too many months longer. We met and I made him tea. He was a bit on the touchy feely side but in more of a big brother hug than a creepy perv kind of manner which pushed any worries I had about my safety around him away. He talked like he’d known me for years. He told me about himself, how he only lived about 5 miles away from me and how he used to be a Page 3 photographer for one of the tabloids until he fell out with the papers owner. He went on to tell me how he didn’t just photograph girls but also arty black and white landscapes as well. Peter showed me some of these images in a calendar he’d had made up and they were impressive. He gave me a calendar to keep. He told me that he often took girls out for Chinese and that he only ever ate Chinese or McDonalds. I didn’t even have to ask if these dining experiences were romantic as his storeys were so matter of fact. He was just everyone’s mate.

He described what he had in mind for me. He had a film producer friend he worked with and they would come to my flat and do some pictures and a film. It would be a boy/girl shoot with a male model called Vince but this particular film was centred around the fact that Peter was going to join in in a gonzo fashion and take over from Vince half way through. For a fleeting second I wasn’t overly happy with this purely because Peter was the complete opposite of anything I found attractive. He wasn’t fat or spotty he just was the opposite of everything that ticked my box. I wanted the work though and knew if I said I didn’t want to work with him he’d say that he wouldn’t be able to use me for the shoot as that was the whole point of the film.

I put my professional head on and concentrated on the fact that not every guy I was going to work with was going to be a stunner. Come on, Oliver wasn’t particularly good looking and neither was Big Dave. It certainly wasn’t a case of beggars can’t be choosers but as you know I was taking my new career seriously so I pushed my concerns out of my head and agreed.

That mixed with the fact Peter told me about loads of other jobs he could book me for if I did well in this first one meant the cons of having to grin and bare something so non life threatening for a few hours was worth it with the pros out weighting this decreasing concern. He also said he’d take me to his studio and shoot my first professional portfolio images.

I decided Peter was a generous guy and one that might take me places so I made a mental note to stick to him like glue which seemed to suit him and his pally demeanour.

All Work and No Play

I’ve already discussed all the time we performers spend at the GU clinic too. Going for tests, picking up certificates. Team that with the fact your local clinic, as I well found out, might not be sufficient to provide you with the relevant paperwork so more travel is involved. The two main clinics for the business are both in London. I’ve know people who had to travel down from oop north just to get tested once a month then pick up results 7 days later.

Then comes the part that no one thinks about. The admin and back end. The time I spend checking my emails, scouring for work, networking, and marketing myself.

In those early days there were no such thing as Facespace and MyBook. Now managing my office time is an even more impossible, never ending job in itself. I often think I should employ a secretary. Many girls do have secretaries in the form of there pimpy, lecherous partners. These guys act as managers, sometimes calling themselves chaperones. They do all the organising and communication, often pretending to be Sally Ann on email and over the internet and you will find them feeding Sally Ann lines when she speaks on the phone to producers etc. Sally merely has to turn up to the job and do the business, for which her fella will have driven her there and will more often than not enjoy perving in the back ground at his girlfriend or wife getting fucked by other people. He will of course enjoy the money she has just made him.

But more about these sometimes unbelievable arrangements later.

This admin side of my job is time consuming but very necessary. Without it I simply don’t work. Yes I have several agents but I only remain at the forefront of their minds in my early days. Once I’ve been around the block and some fresh meat has waltzed into town I can pretty much wave goodbye to any help I see from my agents unless I’m specifically cast in a part which is rare. Or that I’m called in last minute to fill in for someone who’s no showed.

I’ve made quite a good business for myself just by being flexible enough to cover these flaky girls. I’m centrally located and can always be relied upon. Yeah it’s not so soothing on the ego knowing a large percentage of my work only happens by accident but it is a business and the aim of the game is to earn money.

I get emails from my ads on the modelling websites daily. In fact the volume they come in I found it quite a quick process to learn to sort the wheat from the chaff. I categorise emails into three sections.

Genuine interest. These people are known to me and often professional companies who write helpful, detailed and informative emails supplying links to work often through a website of their own.

Then there are the idiots who I have already discussed. They are fantasists and time wasters. They will write mails like “how much to fuck you?” Yes really that’s it. No please or thank you or even a hello. Or they will make up elaborate stories about running professional companies but not be able to back these claims up. The emails will be so detailed you fall asleep half way through. They describe things so obvious such as “then you will insert a well oiled dildo I have that is 12 inches long and 5 inches wide slowly into you soaking wet shaved pussy” rather than simply state “you’ll do insertion with larger toys”. Yawn – delete!

The last category is in between. They could be genuine but not so good at articulating. Maybe shy or just new to this and not know the lingo or how things work in the business. These people I will entertain until they prove to be examples of the second group. Its these people who eat your time. You waste precious minutes and even hours with email correspondence asking questions to establish how valid they really are, giving them the benefit of the doubt but also getting excited that potentially this is another job. Then it all goes south and you’ll have put off a real job in the vain hope this prat is serious.

Sometimes you don’t get so lucky and you go all the way only for the guy not to show up on the day. I said I worked out quickly how to identify most time wasters but I’m not an enigma machine.

I also have to learn to master the art of self promotion, setting up and maintaining all my adverts and profiles. Tweaking the text so that I sound as appealing as a pair of Jimmy Choos to Paris Hilton. I have to update my images regularly. It’s like having an online portfolio and only the best five or six images will do. You have to keep your images fresh as many people will look at your profile one day and not feel drawn to you but maybe three months later they see a different image and forget they ever saw that dodgy old snap of you or just feel that maybe you are worth booking after all.

I spend time mailing people who advertise for work on message boards. I scour the World Wide Web looking for more and more modelling profile sites to join in the desperate attempt not to be missed by any potential employers.

Then after all that I have to be my own PR agent. I have to create a successful fan base and market myself to them. This will ensure I remain popular enough to stay in demand with professional companies and studios. This as you might imagine means replying to fan mail, sending out signed pictures and DVDs. Uploading images and movie clips on the net and setting up my own official fan pay site where I can promote myself to the world letting them know all my latest movies and movements. Creating my own hype and making people love me.

Time of my Life

A lot of people aren’t aware of all the energy and hard work that goes into being a porn actress or model. I’ll admit I didn’t either to begin with. Even I thought it was as simple as turning up to a job, doing the job and then coming home to enjoy spending the money id just made. Think about traditional models and the rep they get as clueless, talentless beings. How many people have you heard utter the words ‘Modelling...how hard can it be?’

I had this little vision when I started out and it went something like this. I could make as much money doing one single shoot as it took me a week to earn in my old job. Instead of working 40 hours a week I now only needed to work between 2 and 4 hrs. The rest of the week was mine to do as I wished. I could study to do something interesting or be a lazy couch potato eating crisps and watching Trisha on TV. If I did more than one shoot a week id be on even more money so I could spend my time shopping for nice things. Bliss!

Ah life would have been so simple if that fantasy had been true. I’m not the type to sit around being passive and since so much work was being offered to me I simply accepted it and found myself working most days.

The logistics of being a porn star are very different to how one outside the business might believe they are. I get fan mail from people who genuinely think I sit around eating bon bons all day. Either that or being a nymphomaniac (in their minds anyway) I’m constantly having sex in some way shape or form. This fool’s paradise always makes me chuckle. I wish.

Obviously there is a lot of travelling involved in this line of work. Most of my shoots do take place in London which is where I call home but the rest, which still makes up a large volume, can be based all over the rest of the UK and indeed the world. Ok so spending hours on a train isn’t so stressful especially the way technology is today but it can mean very early starts and stupidly late finishes. Just see my last blog to see how long some days can be. In fact some producers have a call time for the day before or for full cast first thing in the morning. That way they can ensure that if anyone isn’t going to show up they have time to call in a replacement and limit the damage that can be created by a no show. They might ask you to travel down the evening before and put you up for the night or tell you to get to the set for 8am only for you to find yours is the last scene of the day at 10pm.

People get anxious and board hanging around so it’s no wonder drink and drugs are found on sets so often to alleviate both symptoms. I started smoking because of this. It would give me an excuse to pop outside and get some fresh air (yeah I know, ironic huh!?) and a change of scenery. It was a bonding mechanism too. A common ground I could share with people and made me feel I belonged.

Then as I mentioned in an earlier blog there is shopping for wardrobe. Ok, it’s still shopping but it’s kind of like shopping for work clothes. It’s not as much fun if any fun at all. It’s not really indulging the real you.

And also maintaining your look as a glamour girl. Fake tans and sunbeds, nails, hair. All this takes time and money. Staying fit and in shape is a must so going to the gym regularly is important. In all honesty more of the girls who just model at a more soft core range rather than the ones who act in movies will do this and take the up keep of their bodies seriously. Girls who mainly do films tend to spend more time boozing and getting high than working out. The latter tends to keep the weight off anyway but these two opposite ends of the wellbeing spectrum don’t mix well as you can probably imagine although I do know one girl who often went to the gym after a session in the bar. Personally I couldn’t have stayed upright on a tread mill for very long if I was wankered.

But all this maintenance is very time consuming. Most women enjoy going to the salon or nail bar. I just found it a damn inconvenience and an encroachment on my time.

In at the Deep End

When it came to shooting the scene Dave had decided to make it moody and dark. I guess this was so if it didn’t happen and I couldn’t fit him in or something we could cheat it and his black cock against the shadow of my ass crevice and all the ambient lighting, the end viewer just wouldn’t be able to see shit. But then another blow. He wanted me to do a strip tease on stage on my own. Just like the first scene I told him I couldn’t dance but he simply and calmly told me that was no problem and that I should just slowly strip my outfit off whilst walking around the stool I was sitting on. Whatever I did would be fine by him. I was glad it was so dark now as I couldn’t see all three cameras on me so I felt alone and switched off to the fact people were watching me do something that I felt awkward and embarrassed doing.

I sheepishly jigged around the stool id been perched on top of before Big Dave yelled ‘Action’. I looked more as if I needed a pee than I was seductively stripping my outfit off. Once id stripped off no one came forth with any direction so I just carried on strutting naked around the chair most likely with a confused look on my face. Should I stop or carry on? Eventually someone yelled cut and then we moved on to Big Dave joining me in the scene. I learnt over time that when you do something on film you need to slow it down and this includes your talking. I suppose as we aren’t technically trained actors and actresses and because we do get nervous we tend to sprint to get through the bits we don’t like, like dialogue and intros that involve more traditional acting to establish the scene. Porn is typically lacking in script and this is good since most performers can’t read lines to save their life. Even being fed lines they fail miserably. Many a time I’ve been involved in a scene where the producer or director has asked one of the performers to do something and it’s usually like pulling teeth. We have no common sense as porn stars. We wouldn’t know how to own a role if we tried.

So anyway, as I say you need to slow things down in movies – well adult movies anyway. I can’t comment on mainstream Hollywood movies since I’ve never been a part of one. If someone asks you to strip which could easily be done in all of about 20 seconds considering how little some porn performers wear you need to string the whole thing out. I worked out a little routine for striping off. I adapted it so that I have a 5 minute version, a 10 minute version and a 20 min version depending on the needs of the requester. I go through a mental list of poses so I show off my front and back, my legs and my breasts equally in time. First whilst dressed then as I strip off of which I now have taking my panties off down to a fine art form lasting an age but being every second of pure tease and provocation, seriously I should win an award for this act alone, and then I go through my poses again when fully striped to show off my completely naked body in all its glory so the parts that were covered up before are now fully exposes for all the world to view.

Sometimes you get sick of all the tease and think ‘Fucking hell cant I just start naked and we get on with the fucking?’ but then again sometimes the titillation can be the best fun as you can get creative and vary this plus watching people’s reactions to what your doing is entertaining too. Usually camera men are just watching for angles and composing their frame or holding the camera steady but sometime you see you have caught them out and they are actually watching you and getting off. It’s a very empowering thing.

Big Dave enters the set and sidles up to me very slowly and erotically. His hands are large and warm and soft on my pale and goose bumpy skin. He makes a big show of lusting over my body with his hands and tongue and then concentrates on my pussy. It feels nice. Not like fucking but more like making love. Very dark and erotic and sensual. I actually do forget I’m on a set apart from my nerves about what is going to be happening to my twitching little ass hole all too soon. I try and enjoy this moment though and let it seduce me into relaxing a little.

It’s time for Big Dave to take me on. I’d been concentrating so hard on what was happening before this point to try and distract myself. Maybe hoping something would happen to save me at the last minute. He doused himself and me with lubricant and continued in his slow and sensitive style and gently worked his way into me all the time reassuring me and asking if I was ok. I was ok - for a girl who was struggling to perch back on the stool whilst Big Dave and his big cock entered my back passage. We had limited ourselves to possible sexual positions with the way the set had been dressed. For this I was thankful along with the distraction of trying to keep my balance on the stool.

I didn’t feel any pain during the anal but it was tight and uncomfortable. I didn’t enjoy it. Dave was indeed big but with it being so dark on set it was hard to get a good look and feel even when it was literally in front of my eyes whilst I gave him oral. Id had good cause to be nervous but it wasnt by a long shot a bad experience. I knew since he was supposed to be the daddy in the trouser snake department that it would all be a walk in the park in future. In at the deep end as they say and id managed to swim.

The pace remained slow. There was never any forceful pounding but still I started to get abit soar. Dave assured me it would soon be over and not before time it was. He worked hard to make sure I was always ok and to make sure that my ordeal was over swiftly. He made quick judgement calls when things didn’t go quite to plan but remained calm and empathic to my needs at all times. I would never see such compassionate behaviour from someone in porn again.

I’d gotten through a day id never forget. My first boy/girl sex scene and my first anal sex scene with a guy who to add to the already substantial list had the biggest cock id ever encountered. I’d done it. I was generously remunerated, I was tired and cold and hungry and still covered in flippin glitter. Id missed my last train home which despite Dave’s seemingly caring ways during the shoot he didn’t extend to once we’d wrapped. I was dumped at a deserted station and had no choice but to call my ex boyfriend to come and get me.

We drove home and had sex.

Taking My A Levels

Id finished my first boy/girl sex scene and was relieved it was finally over. I now knew what I could expect in future. It hadn’t been at all as harrowing as id thought and I was left feeling silly for being so nervous in the first place. I thought I’d done well and the director/producer verified this with compliments to that effect.

I was getting changed when Carmen came over and asked if id stay on to do an boy/girl scene with A levels later today as id done so well. Ah, so A levels as people kept referring to was anal. The penny dropped for me. Id been thinking it was strange how they expected so many girls to be so educted for such an unskilled role. Initially I was told this would be with Oliver again but just me and him this time. I was elated with the fact id gotten through the first momentous scene in my career and thought I was on a roll so agreed. I was feeling invincible and on a natural high. I explained it would be my first anal with a guy on film and in all truth would probably be the first real anal sex id experience in my life. Id tried anal sex with an old boyfriend but it was too painful. I don’t think he’d even gotten himself fully inside of me but I knew if I agreed to this now it would be the real deal.

At the time I thought Carmen was genuine about being impressed with me and I was flattered into working again but the reality was that some other girl had most likely let them down and since I was there and fresh meat I would do as a replacement.

The afternoon dragged on and I still hadn’t eaten properly. There was one more scene to shoot after my threesome and then I’d do my anal scene with Oliver. Oliver was obviously bored waiting around too but his idea to fill himself up with cocaine had a knock on effect and soon he made excuses saying he had a cold and felt ill and was going home. What he really meant was he’d over indulged and wouldn’t be able to get a hard on. For a moment I thought that meant the scene was off and if I’d been nervous this morning before my first scene I was about to get the fright of my life. Oliver’s fill in would be the director/producer who was also a famed performer as many producer/director/actors in the industry often were. I suppose it’s a cost effective way to work as they are skilled to do two or three of the jobs required to make a porno, many choosing to do both or all at the same time since the trend for gonzo and amateur porn evolved. Remember I called them one man bands?! But it’s one less pay cheque at the end of the day. It also ensures they get as much work as they want and don’t have to rely on other firms booking them.

My horror came from knowing this particular guys reputation. He was famed for having the biggest penis in British porn at the time. I’d never seen it but id been told numerous times about it. Apparently it was about 14 inches long.

I tried to get myself out of this fast by saying I didn’t think I would be able to take such a big guy my first time. Now I really had reason to be scared and nervous and would do anything to not have to go through with it. I didn’t want to let them down but I also didn’t want to put myself in a position where I could end up hurt. Even in those early days where I still had one hell of alot of learning to do about my body and its limits I knew this was a bad move.

One of the girls who worked closely with this guy, whose name was Big Dave, said she had some numbing cream in her bag and that I could use that. I was supposed to put it on my anus and I wouldn’t be able to feel if it hurt. The down and dangerous side of numbing cream or anything with Benzocaine in it is that you can do yourself alot of mischief if you use it. Nature’s way of telling you you are about to damage yourself is to cause you to feel pain but if you don’t have that warning signal you end up with a torn ass hole in my case.

Big Dave did something then that I will always remember and be grateful for. At the time I thought he was just being an arse but he insisted I didn’t use the cream saying it could make things worse. I was starting to really panic now and felt sick and hysterical. I think he could see this. He promised me that if it hurt we could use the cream but insisted we tried it without first. He calmed me down and said he would take his time and go slow. This is exactly what I needed to hear but unfortunately it would be one of the only times in porn that anyone showed me some respect and compassion. This is why I remember it so vividly. I always described Big Dave as a gentleman after this to anyone who asked about my experiences with him.

Easy Peasy

I’d been well and truly bedazzled by Carmen this time. Myself and Cheryl were matching and ready for action. The film was being shot in a night club in the Midlands whilst it was closed in the day. There were people milling around the club. Other actors and actresses that had been cast for other scenes being shot that day, the camera crew, staff from the club trying to do their own daily chores without getting in our way.

I picked up a porn mag laying on the pool table that had been transformed into Carmen’s make up table. It wasn’t a normal top shelf mag. This one had much more copy in it and no picture sets. The name of the magazine was AVN – Adult Video News. It was full of American films and performers but the director of the film I was in today had a small write up about one of his movies in there too. Other than that there was hardly anyone I knew or had heard of before. It was interesting to see how all the American girls looked and posed. The names of the films featured and the covers of the videos.

Two other girls who were equally as stupidly made up had gone in to shoot there lesbian scene before us despite me and Cheryl being the first out of hair and makeup. This was annoying as id been up so early and hadn’t really eaten anything. The fact Cheryl didn’t really talk to me meant I was sitting with nothing to do allowing my nerves to grow stronger and stronger. During this lull in activity Carmen asked Cheryl if she would take a £2000 over night escort booking. A guy had just called in on the phone. Apparently Cheryl escorted for Carmen a lot. The fact the pair of them had just walked in from the bathroom together and literally stood in front of me to have this conversation which was very woodenly acted out gives me reason to believe this was Carmen trying to get my attention and expecting me to have pound signs ker-chinging in my ears and eyes say that I’d do it.

I wasn’t at all interested in being a prostitute. I was an adult performer. I had nothing against girls who did do it but I was taken up with my new friend pornography. I remained silent and then Carmen pranced back over to her makeup nonchalantly asking if I’d ever considered escorting. I told her no but that id bear it in mind. A polite thanks but no thanks.

We were finally ready for our scene. We had to stand on two podiums on the dance floor and dance. Now I suddenly had something else to be petrified about other than this being my first time fucking a guy on film. I hated people watching me dance. It struck the fear of god into me so I blurted out that I can’t dance. The director didn’t care and said just do my best. I looked at Cheryl and she shrugged. As it turns out she was worse than me. The director shouted action and we started jigging about like two Christmas baubles on acid. I immediately felt better knowing Cheryl hated this as much as me. At least I wasn’t up there on my own.

Then Oliver the French performer enters for the scene. He strolls in all chic and French looking. Not particularly young or studdly looking. He reminded me of the French guy in Private Benjamin, the 80S film with Goldie Horn. He was older and more slimy looking than I thought a male porn stud would be. He didn’t smile and looked bored.

We moved on and got on with the action fairly quickly. All of about 30 seconds of girl on girl tit sucking and then Oliver joined in. He moved his head in between Cheryl’s legs and then stood up and yelled cut. I had no idea what was going on but he’d gone off and whispered in the director’s ear who had then whispered in Cheryl’s ear. I was getting abit paranoid in all honesty. Turns out Oliver thought she smelled unwell. Chances of Cheryl actually having BV or Thrush were high. They are in this business. Oliver didn’t want to take any chances and who knows it could have been something more serious so Cheryl’s vagina (and mouth to be on the safe side) was left out of the scene and she became abit of a spare part.

This freaked me for a second as I realised I wouldn’t be able to copy her any more but what actually happened was a god send. As I now had two people jumping all over me all I really could do was lay there and look like I was loving all the action. I couldn’t have moved for want of trying. I had hands and mouths all over me. Easy!

The penetrative sex was fine and I was more concerned with my knees on the rough surface of the podium than how big this guy’s cock was inside me. Cheryl was asked to use an old beer bottle on herself whilst Oliver took me from behind. I watched Cheryl and her bottle which I found quite entertaining in a non sexual way to the point I forgot I was being pounded myself. Well I wasn’t really being pounded, at least not like id learn I could be pounded in later years.

The Real Deal

My first official and professional boy/girl skin flick was certainly a momentous day to remember for me.

I had been cast in a two girl one guy scene. I found out on the day when I arrived at the location bright and far too early that the guy I was to be working with was a famous French porn star. The other girl was a young jail bait type. I kept hearing her name a lot so I assumed she was fairly popular and this made me aspire to work with her. I was quite excited about this scene really. I got to work with the legendary Cheryl Blows – well she was legendary in my naive head and I got to do my first proper sex scene with a man. I assumed Cheryl would be like Jody and take me under her wing. In fact id heard that Cheryl and Jody were quite pally and had work a lot together so I assumed Cheryl would be Jody mark two.

I was of course wrong. Cheryl had an attitude problem. Well that’s how I surmised it. In retrospect she didn’t, she just was a very private and aloof girl and didn’t involve herself with other people in the business. She was very young and so had a popular look and her personality or seeming lack of it made her appear even younger and almost shy.

Still I tried to make her like me and focused on the fact I still got to say I worked with her.

I was nervous it being my first full sex scene with an actual live penis. I kind of hoped Cheryl would take the lead as Jody had done before so that I could copy. I was glad it was a two girl threesome so at least I wasn’t completely out there on my own. Of course id had sex before plenty of times. It wasn’t like I didn’t know how to fuck but porn wasn’t really like real life. I mean for starters you didn’t have all the thrill and build up of managing to pull someone before you take them home and shag their socks off. It’s kind of like all the emotional stuff is taken away first and you’re thrown in the deep end. It’s kind of weird picking things up half way through a story and being expected to be as passionate as if you had worked really hard to snare this hunk of a guy and get him back to your place.

That’s the acting part and it’s also one of the parts that will screw you up in the head most in this business. At first you just get through it on nerves and anticipation alone but soon you get bored of it and start looking like a bad actress. That’s when the booze and drugs start being a requirement to get through it.

I was so nervous. That was to be expected I guess but I felt like a freak for being nervous. Everyone on the set had had sex before and most were used to watching other people doing it. I wasn’t used to any of this though but I tried hard not to let it show and prayed Cheryl read my mind telepathically and did guide me through.

Me and Cheryl got made up by the makeup artist who also happened to be the producer/directors pimp wife. She was a pretty plump lady who seemed deluded about her age. Mutton dressed as lamb sprung to mind. She had been a porn actress herself in her younger years, her massive breasts managing to make her very popular not just in the UK but also largely (pardon the pun) in Europe.

Carmen booked the girls for the shoots and acted as a makeup artist on the day. I came to the conclusion after a few shoots with this company that Carmen liked to be in charge of make up so she could make the girls look like fucking morons in a vain attempt to feel better about her own fading looks. Make up really was applied with a shot gun. Bright red lippy all over your face so you resembled Bette Davis in Whatever Happened to Baby Jane and glitter spray all over you so you looked like an extra in Starlight Express. This was especially annoying when the location had no shower facilities so you had to go home with most of the glitter still stuck on you, your baby wipe hooker wash not really doing the trick. How her producer/performer husband never complained about the state of us or even managed to get a hard on when he was performing with us looking like demented idiots was beyond me.

As I mentioned Carmen was also a pimp or a Madame. She had been introduced to the escorting world on her trips to Europe and had made many rich contacts who would like nothing better than to splurge large amounts of cash on porn stars or glamour models. She was a very popular buxom lady in the 80s and working as a prostitute supplemented her modelling and porn income and after the glamorous work dried up kept her in the lifestyle she was accustomed to.

She had managed to set up an escort agency of her own specialising in porn star and glamour model escorts. She was in charge of booking the girls for her husband’s productions, that way she could coaxed them into joining her escort agency and supplement the escorts she already had on her agency books with more porn and modelling work when they weren’t in demand by horny wealthy men.

To Good To Be True

I had circled this particular job in The Stage and called the telephone number given to find out more details. The guy sounded young and talked fast. He said id need to come and do a test shoot and then hopefully he would get me some work. He mentioned magazines such as FHM and all the usual laddie mags so of course I jumped at the chance to get my foot in the door to do something so prestigious.

I got the tube up to Warwick Avenue one Sunday afternoon. The guy had asked me to call from the station and he’d walk round the corner to meet me. Sure enough there he was. A young British Asian guy. He looked smart and his conversation sounded professional. We talked on the way back to the studio which turned out to be just a basement flat. I was used to being met by the producer or photographer so I was surprised to find out the photographer was a guy called John and he was already at the location. His girlfriend was also there sunbathing but I was told to ignore her as she was hung over and grouchy. I wasn’t sure then exactly what or who this Asian guy was. Was he an agent? An assistant?

I walked out of the hot summer sun and down to the dark flat which was nicely decorated but reminded me abit of the old beatniks. The photographer went through my capsule wardrobe that id bought with me. A load of brand new PVC and skimpy outfits from my latest recycling stint at Top Shop. He chose an outfit and I went to get dressed. He was an old white haired guy. You could tell he used to be a hippy or something but he’d turned trendy now. He wasn’t that personable but not scary. I took a breath and left the bathroom where Id changed and we started shooting.

Afterwards John played back his images through the TV to show me how they had turned out. They were lovely. Far nicer than any of the other pictures id modelled for, almost arty with nice angles that made me look amazing. No gratuitous poses with my legs behind my head here. Just simple and beautiful images of me posing seductively. Some were black and white and very sophisticated looking. I signed a model release form that the Asian guy handed me and thought with images like that they couldn’t fail to get me more work.

The young Asian guy walked me back to the tube. Id only been there and hour or so but I felt it went well. I was on a high knowing that id just shot the nicest pictures of my career so far. I never knew I could look so good. When we got to the tube he told me he’d be in touch if any of their contacts wanted to do a paid shoot with me.

It was a strange shoot. I really didn’t know what to make of it.
Was this an agency or was I shooting for the photographer to book me for a magazine and why had I signed a model release form if this was only a test shoot?

I went home reassured that id be hearing back from them soon with those wonderful images to represent me.

Time passed by and I got more work elsewhere to occupy my mind but after a few weeks I started to ponder as to why I hadn’t heard back from the guy at Warwick Avenue. At first I made excuses and imagined he was just busy. Then I rationalised that maybe I wasn’t what his clients were looking for. Eventually I decided to give them a call. There was no law saying I couldn’t and then if he had forgotten about me, my call would remind him he was supposed to be getting me some work.

The phone just rang and rang and rang when I plucked up the courage to dial his number.
Not even the opportunity to leave a message. That didn’t sound very professional. Sounded more like someone who didn’t want to be contacted.

I lay in bed thinking about this strange situation all the while my gut getting tighter and tighter with the feeling that something wasn’t right. I fell asleep eventually thinking that at worst, if they didn’t think I was pretty enough or busty enough to book other shoots that I could ask if they wouldn’t mind me having some copies of those gorgeous images from my portfolio that I was slowly trying to build.

In those days things were abit more traditional. Glamour girls still had books and didn’t rely on online portfolio pages or fan sites. I still love my book. I can look back at that in years to come and see some beautiful erotic pictures I’ve posed for. In amongst some smuttier ones that is.

Eventually I gave up hope of hearing from these people with any work but I became upset that I wouldn’t even have the chance to ask for copies of the images either. I could get over the lack of work if I could be pacified with images instead. At least that way I might book some other work on the merit of those pictures.

That was the first time I was lulled into doing a shoot or a “test shoot” for someone looking to make a fast buck and cut me out of the equation. Id signed a model release and that should have been a dead giveaway that they intended to sell those pictures for a profit. They told me it was a casting or test shoot so they wouldn’t have to pay me. They preyed on my eagerness to succeed and took advantage. Luckily that’s all they took advantage of and I came out of the whole affair unscathed and just disappointed but on an upbeat note id learned a valuable lesson the very easy way.

One day id realise that some people had the nerve to try this stunt requesting hardcore test shoots of girls.

Paper Work

Whenever anyone asks me if I’ve ever had any bad experiences in my career I tend to only speak of one minor incident in my early days. It was more a case of being gullible which resulted in being ripped off on a small scale.

I found alot of my early work in the back of The Stage news paper. The people advertising in there were usually the agents or the people you were really better off staying well away from. My first ever top shelf style shoot was found in there and because I found the agents who in turn put me out to alot of other potential employers it took me a while to work out The Stage was abit of a hit and miss resource.

Every week id rush in to WH Smiths for the latest copy. Most of the time it was the same old adverts but occasionally a new one popped up. Sometimes the ad would run for a few weeks and other times just for one single week.

But as per usual, since id had what I considered an easy and loving entry into the business I liked to think the best of everyone until I had good reason to think otherwise. I was about to learn the hard way.

As id effectively had my induction into the biz with the pro clique I’ve learned all about signing paperwork and my supposed “rights” as a model. All professional shoots required me to sign a model release form. No, that wasn’t so I’d be released from captivity after the trauma of shooting a porno. It simply implied that the material we had just produced belonged to the producer or production studio and they maintained all rights of the footage or images and how it would be used.

It’s pretty damn obvious if you ask me that if I’m having sex with someone with a film crew recording the action and then I get paid that I’m doing it for a purpose but from what I’d heard it was very common for girls to have serious regrets soon after and beg and threaten producers and companies not to release the footage or even to go as far as retracting it.

Can you imagine Hollywood stars pulling this stunt? Tom Cruise saying no I don’t want to be associated with this movie any more, it only got 2 stars in Rolling Stone. Re film it with another star in my place.

OK, OK...I do sympathise with the girls. It’s not nice to find you can’t get a serious job again because your face and vagina are all over HMVs adult section, but you knew what you were doing when you filmed it. If you really hadn’t thought about the consequences you shouldn’t be there. The sad fact is that most porn stars don’t fully understand the consequences. No one can. Human beings aren’t born with hindsight.

Producers often say that no model would ever get very far in court a) because you’d find it hard to find a lawyer willing to take this kind of case on and b) because even if you did manage a) the law on porn is so grey even the authorities can’t tell you what’s what. It would cost someone an arm and a leg to take it to court and chances of you winning would be slim. Plus it risks placing your shady past all over the papers which is what you’re trying to avoid in the first place.

Producers don’t believe in the power of model releases yet they still collect them just in case!

Barbie Girl

I just had to share these with you.

Not only did I find these images amazingly humorous, avant garde, kitsch and above all ironic but I really would consider hanging this type of art like this on my wall.

It kind of reminds me of the time when I was a “Peaky”, that’s a fan of the 90s cult TV show Twin Peaks. I decided to massacre one of my old Barbie dolls from my rather large childhood Barbie collection and make her into Laura Palmer in the opening scenes. I discoloured her with a blue felt tip pen and wrapped her naked in cling film. I felt abit freakish doing that at the time but she would have fit right in here. I’m glad other people enjoy staging psychologically challenging situations with their plastic pals.

http://flickr.com/photos/55396233@N00/sets/72157603702021021/

http://flickr.com/groups/41685257@N00/pool/ - naughty toys group
http://flickr.com/groups/dollxxx/pool/ - plastic porn stars group

Being Recognised

Many people assume porn stars walk around with transvestite style war paint makeup and big hair all the time. If you don’t look like a trashy Essex girl out on the tiles of a Saturday night you can’t possibly be a porn star!

I’ve said before that I fit into the girl next door category very well and I’m glad of this for one thing alone. I don’t get recognised and no one would readily believe I am a porn star without good evidence. I look too normal for that and in fact when on the odd occasion I have told people what I do half of them laugh at and attempt to humour me.

I hate wearing makeup when I’m not working and the only time I even venture near a mirror to fix up is if I’m going out for a fancy night out that requires abit of polishing. If I’m simply going local I don’t worry about my face or looks.

I dress down too. A lot of girls go for the off duty glamour girl look in tight jeans and skimpy cleavage promoting tops finished off with a pair of Ugg boots. I wear my sloppy stuff and Ugg boots too but I really do look like I’ve made no effort when I do it. Those girls still look polished and styled.

This is just me. I don’t attempt to go out in disguise. It seems to work though.

Not that I haven’t been recognised. The most embarrassing time was when I was out for the night with my boyfriend and his family. Luckily they know what I do or it could have been very awkward but I think they were as shocked as me when some guy had his girlfriend take a picture on his camera phone of me and him together. I was more worried about his partner decking me in a jealous rage than what the rellies thought but she was all smiles. Luckily I had dressed up that night! I may not be a glamour puss but I have a vain streak and wouldn’t want a porno fan having his picture taken with me looking like a tramp.

I also got spotted outside the GU clinic once after getting my sexual health test. I strongly suspect this guy had worked out where all the porn stars went for their tests and was loitering with intent. This wasn’t exactly confidential information and abit of Googling would easily give you access to that information. I rushed out the main entrance and ran up the street to grab the tube and dash off for my next job when some guy ran after me and asked for my telephone no. so he could book me. He said he was a fan and wanted to do the amateur thing – fair enough but I’m not giving any stranger on the street my phone no. I told him the name of a website where he could find my model advert and to book me through that. He kept trying to find reason to stand and chat to me but when I told him I was in a rush to get to a shoot he went all drooley at the thought of me getting yet another good stuffing from some well endowed stud and sent me on my way.

The first time someone I actually knew found out what I was doing was when I was rudely awoken from a Sunday morning lie in by an old friend and work colleague from back in my home town and old life. She was a few years younger than me and I always thought of her as quite sweet and innocent. We had drifted apart abit but still kept in touch - just about. You can imagine my surprise then when she comes straight out and says ‘was that you I saw on Television X last night with some other girl?’ For a split second I was concerned about what she thought of me. Not that I cared that she knew or not. I wasn’t trying to hide it or anything but then I was overcome with concern for her. What the hell was she doing watching Television X?

Apparently her man liked to watch it from time to time. I was definitely more shocked about her being exposed to adult material than she was about me staring in it. She thought it was funny and gave me encouragement. I think she thought it was cool that she now personally knew a porn star. Not that I was a star in those days more a mere debutant.

She assured me that she was grown up enough to watch porn and not to worry about her but was abit confused as she had viewed me in a lesbian scene. Did this mean I was a lesbian? It was now my turn to assure her that although id wondered for abit if I maybe was that I actually wasn’t. ‘Oh, that’s ok then’ she said. I think that admittance would have shocked her even more than seeing her old friend and boss taking it up the bum on late night adult satellite television.

How the other half live

You know it’s kind of weird when you think about it.

It’s deemed cool to be a porn star these days. People wear T shirts saying Porn Star across them. They film themselves having sex and upload it onto YouTube. People who only ever did one dodgy amateur movie years ago call themselves porn stars. Everyone wants to be someone whether it’s a model or musician or sports personality or film star or just an “it” girl. A celebrity of some sort. We all have our own little MySpace pages cos it makes us feel abit famous being where everyone in the world can view us.

I can’t speak for the other industries I mention but I can’t help thinking they are probably as unforgiving as porn too. Its just there jobs aren’t such a head fuck in the first place. It’s simply the baggage that goes with the job that is the down side for them.

Just look at Britney. What the fuck is that all about. She’s an extreme case but I’m sure others just manage to hide it better.
Britney is the reality of how many porn stars will end up though.

Who wants that??? We all think these people we put on pedestals have it all. Money, hot chicks or guys, fame, bling, cars. Then we feel sorry for them when the press hounds them and makes there life a living hell. These supposedly glamorous jobs all have flip sides. It’s all blown out of proportion. Even when we do witness the flip side we still want to be that person. We still think all the money and fame must be worth it.

It’s not. Were just glutton for punishment (the idolized). Were as taken in by it all as you “normal” people are. In fact we believe it even more.
This is why Britney freaked out. I really think most of these people that “normal” people aspire to deal with their fame in damaging ways. Tom cruise has his weird faith. Some people turn to drugs and a party lifestyle. Just look at Whako Jacko.

I was sitting in a bar yesterday and watching the waitress. I aspire to her. She’s so cool. She has a good life probably. Not all the dramas and brain damage that go with these fake and fantasy jobs and personalities. She is truly deserving and worthy.
And all the other people in “normal” life. The postman, the check out girl, the bank clerk. I’d like to be one of them. I really admire the people who do the stuff that counts and makes a difference. It’s the real people who should be celebrated not the celebrities.

Imagine Heat magazine picking flaws in the average girl’s wardrobe of choice or Hello being filled with articles and pictures about how big Dave down the road got married to Sue from the pub.

Like Alice through the looking glass. Life is twisted.

Workwear - Yes we do wear clothes...sometimes!

As I mentioned to you earlier it costs alot of money for me to be (insert porn name).

And there was you thinking porn stars were born looking like that. Nope....as in keeping with the fantasy of pornutopia underneath all that silicone, acrylic and bleach we are nothing like our porn personas.

Believe it or not, one of the most important tools for any glamour model or adult actress (I hate using that term. I find it really cheapens the meaning for the talented real actresses) is her wardrobe. Yes we spend our time predominantly naked but we have our own style for this job. Slut wear is what you find topless models, club dancers, strippers and porn stars wearing. 6inch glass stilettos and tiny Lycra hot pants. If you’re still not sure what I’m talking about have a look at http://www.forplaycatalog.com/

Since I wasn’t in the habit of dressing up like a slag in my normal life I had to scrimp together what revealing outfits I did have for work. Short skirts and skimpy tops. I really didn’t have that many that were sexy and I knew I couldn’t be seen wearing the same top and skirt for every job so I had to go shopping. I had to buy a whole new wardrobe which wasn’t going to be cheap and I still wasn’t exactly rich in those early days.

My plan of action was this. I’d go shopping with what limited funds I did have and then make sure I was ever so careful with these outfits when I wore them on set. I made sure not to get any make up or bodily fluids on them and when doing my sexy little strip id peel it off so carefully so it didn’t rip or snag. Id then return them to the shop and swap them for something different I could wear the next time I was booked. This meant I had to do my shopping all over the place. I couldn’t keep going into Top Shop in my home town or id have been caught out returning and swapping stuff each week so I had to travel great distances to make my little scam work.

This way I could afford the nice outfits and look really good on set. I was loaning the clothes from the high street chains. The only thing I did have to invest in was sexy lingerie and stockings. Oh and my tranny porn shoes. To this day I have a draws full of beautiful lingerie from all over the world and in every colour you can imagine. I plan to auction it all off for charity one day. I really dread the day when I have no real reason to be buying gorgeous undies anymore. It is one of life’s simple and harmless pleasures.

Eventually I realised the other girls didn’t bother taking any pride in their wardrobes and the producers weren’t even that concerned either. You’d turn up on set with your big suitcase bursting full of new shiny clothes and ask the producer what you should wear to be told “Oh you pick something”. They didn’t want to be bored with menial tasks like picking wardrobe. They had important things to do like making unimaginative generic porn that looks like every other scene ever filmed.

Or they’d tell you to bring four or five different outfits. An outfit means lingerie plus outerwear, like a dress or skirt and top and shoes. No one ever asks you to accessorise and rarely to wear stockings or be imaginative with your make up. Then when you get there having lugged your biggest suitcase across the capital and not been able to squeeze your way onto three different packed commuter trains, sweating your bollocks off and looking less than attractive right now they say “oh just wear that teeny weeny g string. No shoes”. You wanker! I could have fit that in my pocket and left all this shit at home.

Dragging my case from A to B became the worst aspect of my work for a long time. How silly does that sound?

I also started earning enough money to stop my little scam after a while. I could have kept it up but it became time consuming and what else was I going to do with all this money. I learnt to buy afew nice things that would keep me going and then if I found something I really liked I treated myself.

I don’t leave my appearance in the hands of uncouth producers nowadays. I take the initiative and dress myself deciding on the little details like which accessories to stylise with, how heavy or natural to do my make up or what style to do my hair in today and I more often than not wear stockings if only hold ups and not the whole suspender she-bang. If I left it to the uncreative idiots who produce this tack id look exactly the same as I did in the last five films I shot.

I became obsessed with shoes though as I said in an earlier post. Even now I always try and streamline my suitcase and take a capsule wardrobe whenever possible but each outfit needs a different pair of shoes. Afew bangles and necklaces don’t take up much room but 7 pairs of shoes do!

I will never get away from that loathsome suitcase.

Sixth Sense

Michael wasn’t the first or last chancer I encountered.
As I mentioned earlier, you learn to identify the sinister characters and time wasters fast. You learnt to evoke a sixth sense but unfortunately sometimes it’s not always spot on.

So, the time wasters and no shows would be the guys who write one line emails or would constantly call or email asking questions about the shoot. I was dumb enough to freely give my mobile phone number out then in a vain attempt to not miss out on any work opportunities.

Guys who simply write ‘How much?’ or ‘I want to book you for a shoot’ without even so much as a ‘Hello’ will never show up or usually get round to arranging anything concrete with you. If they can’t supply even the most basic of information or show an ounce of courtesy then even if they did show up would you want to work with someone like that? Seriously you can’t have high expectations of these kinds of people.

Then you get the ones who constantly email or call with questions in the time between arranging the booking and the actual event itself. Like ‘What will actually happen at the shoot?’ For fucks sake! You’re the flippin boss, you tell me what’s going to happen. I do what you ask me to as your employee. Within reason of course!

These guys are hoping you will write them some free erotic literature or do a free sex chat on the phone describing what will happen in pornographic detail.
‘Well first I will dress up in some sexy lace undies then I will rub my firm round breasts and tweak my hard nipples.....’ Go away and ask the ladies who are paid to do this.

You can usually pin point after afew emails if someone’s a time waster asking too many strange, obvious or long winded questions. They may want to simply have your attention.
Or they might start adding things to the list of content they originally booked you for. It might have started out as quite a simple tame shoot but before you know it your being analy gang banged by 12 strangers in a warehouse in Dagenham. This is usually just to see how far you will go. How much you can be pushed or how desperate you might be. Again it’s all a free wank for them though.

You also get the ones with the elaborate stories. The list of these elaborate claims is endless. ‘We’re a big American porn company’, ‘We want to put you in our mainstream movie’, ‘We’ll pay you £20,000 for a fashion shoot’, ‘We want you to be the next Britney – you don’t even need to be able to sing, we have computers for that’. That last ones no lie!

Now I actually like winding these people up if I get the time. I like bombarding them with security questions and seeing what silly answers they concoct in panic as they realise they have found another one with a brain. I’ll say ‘Where’s your website to prove who you are?’ or ‘Which other models have you worked with?’, ‘Why is your email a webmail and not a company one?’ It’s a good way of ensuring they take you off whatever list they use to scam girls.

I’ve even had people claiming to be established production studios or photographers. One guy emailed me claiming to be an ex Daily Sport photographer that unbeknownst to him I had become good friends with. I called said photographer and told him, both of us laughing at the twit’s bad choice of victim. I politely wrote back and told him that I was good friends with the guy he was impersonating and he sharply disappeared without trace.

Luckily most guys have no intentions of coming out from behind their PC monitors so it’s all relatively harmless but there are bad people out there.

There are of course all the bizarre non work related emails too.
‘Can I date/marry you?’ – This is a model site not a dating site sweetie. I’m looking for work, not a boyfriend.
‘Do your parents know what you do?’ or ‘Does your boyfriend know you’re a slut?’ Who do you damn well think you are trying to intimidate me?
‘Can I be your slave?’ I’m an adult model not a mistress. OK I might have to act like a real mistress from time to time but that’s it and this isn’t an S&M site.

I’ve had hate mail too. One charming guy claimed I had bi polar disorder and that it was down to him to bring this fact to my attention. I’ve had two obsessive fans both deluded that they were having some sort of relationship with me. One still try’s to add me as a friend on a social network as if everything’s hunky dory and were long lost pals. I’ve even almost had a stalker until I nipped it in the bud before things started getting out of hand but that’s another tale.

The Lies They Tell Us

The first email from that model site that materialised into a shoot was with a guy called Michael. He said he owned a movie company called Blue something or other. I didn’t pay too much attention but id not heard of them. He said he shot in Spain alot but wanted to do a shoot with me in a hotel at Heathrow airport.

I can hear you laughing already – those of you with an ounce of savvy.

I was eager to please and make a good impression for my début into porn. I wanted to push myself to make sure id made the right decision sacking real life for this amazingly different career. I didn’t want to leave my failure to fate so I gave all my focus and determination to my new job.

Michael met me outside arrivals in his swanky blue convertible Merc. He was dressed like a total tosser in a tight white T, jeans plus bear feet in brown loafers. Eugh! He was good looking but you could see he was the other side of young now and trying desperately to still be that cool 80s yuppie he was 15 years ago.

Anyway we drove to a nearby hotel with him spouting bullshit about him and his so called adult movie business. It would have been believable if a) he hadn’t made it sound so Hollywood and b) he hadn’t just turned up on his lonesome.
Once we got inside the hotel room he said he didn’t need cameras for this but if I was good he’d book me to go to Spain for a week’s shoot. How dumb was I?

I knew something wasn’t right but I also knew nothing about this business so rather than go with my gut I went with the logical reasoning that this must be how things were done in porno.

He fucked me for an hour without even so much as a disposable camera in sight and convinced me to do anal with him after id told him I had never properly done it with a guy before and would really rather save it for the camera. I couldn’t tell at the time but he probably found it hard to stop himself exploding there and then. Isn’t that every guys dream to sodomise a young girl who’s an anal virgin?
He did show some compassion though and suggested we try the anal in the shower so he could lather up my tight virgin ass hole with lots of soap and slip his well endowed cock in a little easier. Being new to all this I also didn’t realise that all that soap would give me Bacterial Vaginosis or Thrush. A few weeks later I sat at the dining room table fully clothed wondering what that fishy smell was. I certainly wasn’t eating fish!

Strangely I managed the anal without too much discomfort and felt a sense of pride that I had managed to do it and please and hopefully impress this guy. My anger about him not being concerned about what I did or didn’t want to do had vanished.

At the end after id showered up and was getting dressed we were chatting and he asked for my HIV certificate to see. I produced this. It was normal to show your producer and co performers this paperwork although it made more sense to do it pre shoot. Sometimes it was a ritual that was done simply to say it had been done. The reason for doing it not important to some people so they just went through the motions even if this meant remembering or being prompted into doing it at the end when it was too late. You might have AIDS by then but this is how things were then.

I expected Michael to produce his certificate too but he didn’t. He said he had one but since I was the young, naive newbie I didn’t press him to physically show me. I didn’t want to ruin all the good work id done. He might decide not to book me for Spain although I knew there was no Spain. This guy was making things up just to shag a porn star. Not that I was a star in those early days. I was a wanna be. Later id become a real porn star myself and Id discover how to make money out of people who want to screw porn stars properly.

I think Michael enjoyed the bull shitting as much as he enjoyed the sex. He wanted to be living the fantasy he was spewing out to me but really he was as much a wanna be as me. The bullshit just helped to get him to the resulting fuck with me but some guys would get as much enjoyment out of this pretending to not even go through with meeting me. They were no shows or time wasters. I quickly learnt to work these time wasters out.