funny thing, you don't see hoodlums starring in porn films. you'd think they'd be the first to want to confront everybody with their dicks. it's like cops. so fucking straight, yet live and think like hoods.

don't even see hoodlum women, easy as it would be for them.

most of the women in porn seem to truly enjoy sex when you are near them during filming. they are not prudes and have nothing against sex per se.
just honestly cock hungry, as one of them said of herself.

best headline I ever saw on a sex mag: "My husband and his friends take turns in my mouth."

best caption I ever saw on a swinging ad: "My husband calls me cocksucker."

I edited two swinging mags in California in the mid-1980s: Flashers and West Coast Swingers, though that was mainly the work of Ron J. I wrote things that went beyond what he was used to writing. One day my wife the porn star wrote a true story of her sex past and Ron printed it, but he wrote in his publisher's note that her story scared him. He thought he might be arrested for it. It wasn't even liiterally illegal. Just words.

Always hoped good came to Ron and Shirley J of West Coast Swingers.

and Linda and Gene M of Louisville. I never have forgotten them. I think my wife and I would have married them, each couple forming a half of the union.

We were introduced by a famous governor's personal physician. He loved us up, and so did one or two of the governor's bodyguards. very nice people. no hassles, just fun.

My wife once blocked Democratic presidential nominee hopeful Gary Hart from stepping on a live wire in Denver. I don't know why it was exposed. He would not have made it. Don't remember how she knew it was lethal. Little did Mr. Hart realize he was being led away by an oral nymphomaniac.

I suggested a movie which would be strictly one woman's mouth on one man's dick, blowing him until he came seven times or more. Might have to film over 3 days or so, but splice it together in one hour or so, just mouth hole and pole and jism.

Nobody took me up on my idea, but a few years later, somebody did a film like it called "Basement Semen Slave" starring Herschel Savage or somebody and this really built blonde. On the cover, he's dressed like a gimp slave, though he is hardly being xxxxxx to submit to anything. She is perfect, eyes only for his meat. to hell with the camera shooting the box cover, no pose for that. she was sucking dick for him. she signed up to suck his dick for days and take ten of his loads. all the pleasure toward orgasm would be coming from her, and he would receive all the orgasms. the great thing about one-sided oral. Of course, the sucker loves sucking. People who love to suck should advertise with their pics here and meet others. lot of crotch needing mouth, log of mouth needing crotch.

what have you done to blow a lonely dick today, ladies?

I did not realize, growing up, how many people are drawn so intensely to see, touch and inosculate another's butthole.

And what do you call that opening? I would say "this" if it was in front of me.

Butthole, Butt, Asshole, Ass, Cornhole -- a new beanbag-toss game among American youth, I recently saw a new American newscaster, fresh in from Australia, tricked into doing a feature on the game, mentioning its name several times -- "CORNHOLE!", she seemed to shout, repeatedly, while explaining the rules and describing its following. She is very pretty, and the young men around her, who had no doubt lured her into doing the featurette, were strong and virile. I could hardly pay attention to her film clip, I was so distracted by the image of them all with their pants down, gathered around her.

"CORNHOLE!!" She was very excited, to be doing her first day's feature ever on American tv. I think her bosses may have been even more excited, or exercised, watching her piece roll.

The unfailingly convivial young men moderating the various parts of the show into a whole handled the incident with grace, not even the faintest hint of reaction on their faces, beyond the usual, general affability. Still, wouldn't I have loved to hear the action during the next commercial!

Last night I heard from a Spanish woman that it is a favored trick among people of various countries to somehow get a newcomer from another language background to say inappropriate words, inappropriately. I think I saw one of the best jobs done yet. I always was lucky that way. Hope she still has the job.

One night, my wife flew in from the coast and arrived so late that we stayed at her brother's apartment for the night instead of driving tired.

She came home very horny, for some reason, and she was all over me for a few hours, panting and licking under my balls, pressing her face under my nuts to try and give me a hickey right between the legs. She tried to do that a lot.

I never wanted to cum, because I didn't want it to stop, so I'd have her hold off when I was about to spurt, and she would, though she had to fight her impulse to eat the cum, I could see from the little lunges her body made involuntarily. When I finally felt the orgasm subside and could continue, I'd tug her hair like a leash and she would be back down on it, "really goin after it" as she always said.

Very late in the dark, we wanted to light a joint but had no matches and no lighter.
Suddenly, she said she'd get a lighter. She got up, stark naked, hair messed all up, thighs shining wet from pussy juice running out of her and down her legs, and she went to her brother's bedroom door and just went on in, in the dark, and closed his door behind her. I heard muffled voices for maybe ten minutes, then silence for half an hour, and finally she emerged from his bedroom and closed his door behind her very quietly.

She told me she had acted like she had to be quiet because she had told him I was asleep. She'd told him I was aggravated with her for nothing, and she couldn't sleep because she had a bad dream. Could he please let her sit by him for awhile? It was very dark in his room. No windows, no light on, just a little dim light from under the door to his apartment building hallway.

She was 30, he was 26 and living alone. She said they smoked a joint, and I thought of what he saw when he lit the joint, and about what light he might have used to roll a joint in the first place. I don't think he did it in the dark, and yet, if he had turned on a little light, he'd have seen his knockout sister completely nude, hair all tangled from being force-fed dick, her tits jutting at him bare, her beautiful thighs and belly and such womanly hips, and her golden pussy hair, tangled and soaking wet.

She and I did a funny thing. We were always trying new things, often without saying aloud what we were doing. What we did was: I did not ask her if anything happened between her and her brother in his room, and she did not offer any information, and we left it like that. Once, a month later, she told me she had gone through his room for some reason and found he had a small drawer full of her panties. She did not seem displeased at all.

I noticed that once, when he and I greeted her at the airport, she barely hugged me, but hugged him repeatedly, compulsively, and kept doing it all the way to the car. She kept a hand on him through the airport and in the car. I was super aroused, and acted as if I thought nothing of it. I know she was doing it partly as a display for me, too.

Drove me crazy! The memories still do! Anyone have anything like that to tell me in confidence? I'd be most grateful. I have an awful lot of stories to share with those who care to.

Amber Lynn told me her own choice of all her own films is "Amber Aroused."

One day, in a dark hallway of one of the many mansions where porno was also filmed -- rich folk THRILLED to have their homes used as porn sets!!! -- I was standing with Jerry A, who was making a loop, I think (one of the short films for the quarter booths)
when a voluptuous blonde came walking up with a dress on so short that her stockings ended about 4 inches below the hem, and exposed were her garters and stocking tops and gorgeous pale thighs. Mmmmmmmmmm.

She said "I can't do it until I get a longer dress!" Jerry growled "then get one, and hurry up!"

I jumped in and appealed to her better judgment: I said "NO! PLEASE wear that dress right there, just as it is! It is hotter than HELL!!!"

She looked at me curiously. I didn't know her. Jerry shouted "What the fuck are you talking about!!! The damn thing doesn't even cover her stocking tops!!! Get a longer dress and let's go!"

I said "NO!!! It is perfect as it is!!! This is PORNO! PORNOLAND, where a woman shows up wearing a dress and stockings showing JUST LIKE HER!!! For God's sake, please. Please film her just as she is."

Jerry said bad things to me, but the crew, whom the directors all seemed to respect, took my part and urged him from atop their ladders and in their hiding places (hidden from the camera angles) they urged him to leave her as she was. One said "He's right, man. It is too hot to be real."

Jerry looked confused, pissed off, shook his head as if to get some debt figure out of it, and waved his hand and said "What the hell! Go ahead and wear what you've got on. Let's get on with this."

Later I got her to tear a few snags and holes in her nylons, to show she'd been providing hole to the extremely needy, and she went out to film a scene like that. Jerry said "Fer Chris's Sake!!" but he didn't argue and they filmed/shot it the way she was. She told me just before taking it up the ass that she really liked dressing this way. It made her hot.

She made me not, saying that, and I stood in the dark living room, looking at her on her hands and knees on some stairs, taking it, and she spent the whole scene looking at me while he whipped his excited dick in and out of her asshole as fast as he could. He said later he loved the way she was dressed. Made him have to need to get it, I think he said. He was very flustered, as they so seldom are, by the quality of the pleasure he had just passed through with her.

It wasn't long before the loop was released, and a short while later, Madonna made her famous first big appearance onstage at the Grammies, rolling around with lingerie exposed and holes in her mesh. I wondered if it was possible she'd gotten it from that loop, and it hit me: a woman who would roll around as if on a cum-splattered whorehouse stripjoint floor at the Grammies would surely be watching porno, and be an avid follower. Even an avid follower of porn fashion.

Years later, studying womens' history, I read that 'women of disrepute' have always led the way in the area of fashion, from clothing to behaviors.

Now you know.

Saw Hyapatia Lee check into The Game one day, in that venue off Army Street.

Damn, she was good-looking. Kinda female, make Nefertiti murderous.

They came in, her and her male, fresh from Indiana, driving a fairly big black pornstarmobile named "Da Weiss" for some reason I never could divine.

Ass tight like bubble.
Hole body encased in advanced musculature, of the Greek vase type.

A little group greeted them in the lounge upstairs. I don't remember who, except for Lili Marlene. They hugged. Hyapatia and Bud hugged everybody until she got to me. Then she made a sour face, shrugged, said "oh, why not?" and gave me a high fashion kind of hugette thang, like they kiss each other on both cheeks from a foot away.

Guess I struck out, since I didn't make contact. Wish somebody would have let me know we were playing.

So later, she is in her first love scene, under a man on a real '70s-style couch, and I seem to recall she was offering her beauty rather than her booty, the way some beautiful women will do ya, even in the act,

and guess what come down?

Of a sudden, her guy, her Bud, walked out into the middle of the scene and knelt beside the couch, holding a cup of cool water and a washcloth, and while he attempted to cool her brow (never mind the makeup!), he wept.

They who ran the deal were wide-eyed, and led him off, Bud, the way James Brown's peops used to lead him off, crying, draping him in a purple satin cape at the end of "Please Please Please".

I guess we both got beat that day.

I wasn't surprised when she faked her death after she'd played awhile, attempting to control her past and wonder how she deals with this present? Present we have been given, and it not even our birthdays, most of the time.

Bud recovered from whatever it was. He was a producer, last I heard. Still keeps that cup and cloth, wherever he keeps her memory.

Some auteurs filmed in a place off Army Street in SF. Nice building, laid out as if it was constructed for filming porn in. Had a lounge upstairs. A fire department right nearby. You could tell the firemen knew. Probably recognized the performers.

Maybe the biggest producer had a warehouse on Army Street. Came in to film very early, 7 a.m. Good Love 6-9969. I wrote that on my bathroom wall and it's still there.

He hired me to consult with him at $500 a day, and in the course of it, I realized this man had no doubt seen and owned more porno movies than anyone outside some of the surreal governments, like the Dominican. And he Vatican.

So I asked "Have you ever seen an actual snuff film?"

He got very serious. Said he routinely bought giant crates of porn film from Latin America, sight unseen, and hired a man to view all of it, looking for saleable items.

One day this paid viewer came to the boss' office, pale and very unsure of things. He said "There's one I think you should look at yourself."

It was an obviously real sex murder, young woman tied to a bad, starting out getting into being naked and spreadeagled. She smiled and moved her hips as a man moved around her, securing her bonds and making sure his face never showed.

Then the man moved out of the frame and in came another man with a black hood over his head and a rifle. The woman looked surprised, then worried, then alarmed, and eventually desperate, begging and crying.

Did no use.

He said he sent the film anonymously to the correct federal agencies. It had been more or less hidden among about 1400 'decent' porn loops.

This man had seen it all, even before that sighting.

So yes, there has been at least one real snuff film. Trujillo probably made it.
The US blew him away in the early 60s.

Check out the recent film "Night at the Golden Eagle".

In the classic time, 1982-86, some larger goals had been achieved for adult entertainment. Producers were millionaires, some of them. Adult film stars signed thousands of autographs at the annual Consumer Electronics Symposium (CES) in Las Vegas. The bidness out-earned the entire music business by about 10%.

The banks hadn't bought in yet.

The markets in Japan and Germany were so large, they rivalled the revenues from entire quadrants of America.

Still, the big players behind the desks could feel that they were barely tapping the money well that was hidden underground. Imagine a business that could out-sell music itself without being allowed to advertise!

I heard a few major figures say, at various times, that the key would be the first centerfold from one of "The Big Three" (Playboy, Penthouse and Hustler) to make a porno movie. Somehow, their figures showed that would open the giant door.

She gets no credit for it, but believe me, the whole adult x community was alive with excitement the day "Stacey Donovan" stepped out of the central page of Hustler and onto the set of a porno movie. And the money people were right. With her came some kind of strange credibility, still forbidden to advertise, but unable to resist. Neither the consumer nor the government could fight down the primeval power, and she was its Goddess on a level no one else will ever know.

As they said in the movie "1984": "The Orgasm is the Chief Enemy of The State."

I was there that night that She arrived. She even asked me to give her a ride home at the end. A lot happened that day, because where She was, that was the capital of the sexual nation. I can tell you about the day, but I'll leave you with this much for now.

Once a man who worked for a moving company stole a box of our polaroids and copied our phone number off our phone when moving us.

He was very overweight, messy hair, dirty clothes, sweaty, and unintelligent.

Still, he had the nerve to call us one night and my wife got out of bed to take the call in the midst of fucking, in case it would be something sexy. She was Ms. Untouchable. Gorgeous, fine manners, extreme intelligence, great taste, gracious southern behaviors.

The man, Rick, said, when she answered, "I've been drinking and looking at polaroids of you. I'm going to bring my polaroid and come over. I'm horny."

The nerve!!!

She said she almost swooned with excitement, and asked if he would please do her a favor and come see her as soon as possible.

When he arrived, her pussy was wetter than I've evver felt it, I was fainting from excitement, closed off in our second bedroom, and she greeted him at the door in the nude.

He stayed all night and into the next afternoon, and it seemed like the sound of sucking never stopped once. She told me later she ate seven of his loads. She said he took her for granted, pulled her head around by the hair and ears, grunted like an animal when he emptied his balls in her mouth, and when he went to pee, she crawled in after him and licked his dick clean before he led her crawling back to bed by her hair. After that, he made her suck it clean each time he pissed. Made her crawl each time. Didn't have to make her. She was panting for him.

When he couldn't unload anymore, she pressed herself naked against his broad, fat back and cooed to him how satisfying he was, to feed her so much dick and so much cum.

When he finally left, he announced he'd be back with his friends in a few nights and she very submissively thanked him and said she'd be honored.

When she came to bed, she spread and I sank my dick into her and her mouth smelled more of dick and cum and sweat and piss than I ever smelled it! Her dick breath was amazing. Intense, and lasted for hours. I always thought she may have been drinking his pee and didn't admit it to me.

And if he'd wanted to focus on her butthole, she would have held it up all night and all day like a good girl. He really got a hold on her. He was her favorite man for a long time. His friends got a lot of hole from her, too. She went to a company party at the moving van line office and dressed like a total whore, tits about to burst out of her glittering top from the moment she walked in. The other women were furious and all left early. Some of the husbands either stayed despite their wives' anger or came back after taking their wives home, because they knew what they had waiting for them, back at the party.

She said one thin man had a very long, thin dick, and just straddled her head and slid his long peter all the way back into her throat and just barely wedged it in and moved it around a little for a good while before emptying his balls right into her neck. She said she never even got to taste it. She liked thin, bitter cum, and used to come out of the bedroom rubbing her tummy and smiling when she had found a guy who pissed his cum in her mouth, as she put it.

The pillows of the lips and cheeks,
chest and bottom and thighs,
soft hands...

Prominent brow, wide-set eyes,
strong bones of the face,

thicker neck and shoulders,
slabs of heavy flesh on the chest and arms,

face rough as the memory of the strong one,
whose duty it was to die for you if necessary.

how could we not be drawn,
even if you are an obvious flame?

What manner of being could forget
everything but the bad times?