Girlvert: A Porno Memoir (2 page)

“Well, I don’t know what to think. I was scared shitless, but I can’t stop thinking about it. I mean, it’s porno.” After a lot of back and forth and false rationalizing of reasons why I would never do porn, I finally asked, “Do you think you would ever want to…do it? I wouldn’t do it by myself, not without you.” I looked down at the floor and fidgeted my foot from side to side. My eyes could barely meet his when I uttered the question. I was so embarrassed to ask this of Tyler, but my curiosity was mounting fast. I felt like I needed his permission, his approval. I always needed to bounce my ideas off of him, if only to gauge by his reaction if I was a bad person. Tyler had the truer heart of the two of us, and I felt a little inadequate with my own judgment.

“Yeah! Oh, my god, YES! Let’s do it! Let’s do porn!” It was as if I had just proposed marriage. And as with the quick and rash decisions of newlyweds, we just knew that everything was going to be awesome.

We were going to ruin our lives. Together.

The thing is, porno was not too far removed from what we’d already been doing sexually, and maybe that’s why it seemed the next natural step—with no cause for debate—would be to videotape it. Long before I’d ever seen it in a porno movie, group sex was introduced to me by Tyler and his Norwegian rocker buddy, Colby. They’d presented the concept of double penetration with cheerleaders’ enthusiasm, and I’m a total pushover when it comes to a dare. I also didn’t want to be uncool, so I jumped into the wonderful world of DP. Everybody wins with a DP. Two guys can fuck a girl at once, and it’s virtually invented for girls who just can’t get enough cock. It became a weekend goal of ours to find an orgy. I thought that everyone in Hollywood did coke and got double penetrated.

We would all take ecstasy and sniff lines of cocaine. I loved both of those drugs and was willing to do anything while I was on them. Getting fucked by Tyler and Colby at the same time was very cool—at the time. They both were good-natured, fun guys that everyone liked. They described themselves as erotic beings who knew everything about the makings of great sex. Tyler was beautiful, and Colby wasn’t so bad. He was tall and had white-blonde hair. I couldn’t say he was downright sexy, but he definitely had a look. His style was all about Von Dutch, and Tyler worshiped it. He was a former bass player in a number of local Hollywood bands, and he was obsessed with fucking lots of different women. Colby talked about the girls that he fucked all the time. He told us more than once that his record of girls fucked in one night was eleven.

What did I know about sexual confidence at twenty years old? Not a lot. I never thought I was hot enough or pretty enough for Tyler. I definitely didn’t feel hip enough to be a chick that Colby would be interested in. They were charming and always bragged about the hot chicks that had all fallen victim to their love. I ate all this shit up. Every word from their lips might as well have come straight from the
Kama Sutra
itself. When they fucked me at the same time, in my ass and in my pussy, and when I sucked their cocks simultaneously, I felt special. They wanted to do all this crazy stuff with me, and I was the crazy girl that was down for it. I was the sexy little nymph who could turn them on. I felt important.

Yes, I felt important when Tyler and Colby double-penetrated me. Admitting it seems silly. This is the honest truth, though: I wanted to please them so badly. Validation from them was everything. All Tyler had to do was coax me a little, and I would have one cock in my mouth and get fucked by the other. Some nights there were more random guys that I really didn’t know, but Colby said they were cool. I trusted him, his opinion. Colby was the friend that Tyler looked up to the most. He idolized Colby. The fact that he loved to party with us had deep meaning for Tyler.

They first introduced the idea of DP as if it were this really trendy new energy drink or video game that I would just love. Never mind the fact that I didn’t play video games or that it was three in the morning. But I was game. If it meant we were still going to party, then I was up for anything.

“You guys have never done a DP? Oh, shit! You have got to try it. It’s so much fun, and it feels really good! Ora, every girl who has ever done this with me loved it!” Apparently, Colby did them all the time in LA, and back home in Norway. He was smiling so much and was such a trusted friend. I just smiled back and sniffed a line, silently noting every time he mispronounced my name.

“Well. What? I mean, I don’t know. How does that work? How is it possible? Won’t I just break open? I don’t think you both will fit.” I was puzzled about how much my small frame could actually accommodate. Probably a lot, I figured, since women smaller than me have babies. The ecstasy, coke, and booze made me feel like anything was possible. This was true.

As soon as we started having this kind of sex, we just wanted to do it all the time. I ended up being pretty decent at taking two cocks at the same time. Each time it happened, the sex got rougher and dirtier. I started shoving my hand completely into my own mouth and down my throat. It had always felt good to do this when I was barfing up my food alone over the toilet, so I just incorporated the gratifying feeling of self-purging into our sex. Tyler, Colby, and the others would take turns putting their hands in, and then their cocks. We did so much coke that we would all get dry mouth. I solved the problem by reaching down my throat, producing enough saliva to rejuvenate even the most drug-parched tongue.

After I had cheated on him, I began to ask Tyler to grab me and pull my hair. I started to want some pain during our sexual encounters. He smacked me in the face while I blew him. He never hit me hard with his hand, but he would with his cock. I craved the physical infliction because I felt bad about myself for my infidelity. I wanted to show Tyler that he was important to me, so I gave this power over to him.

Once, I was face down on our bed, in our apartment, while high on ecstasy. All I wanted was for us all to be happy, having a good time. We all began fucking. Tyler was on one side of my ass, Colby on the other. I knew someone was in there, just not who. Tyler and Colby had decent sized penises, about seven inches each. Their dicks seemed identical to me, even though I constantly reassured Tyler that his was bigger and felt better. In my daze, I heard them giggling.

“What are you laughing at?” I was going to get upset. Were they making a joke out of fucking me?

“No, Ora. We have both of our dicks in your ass! It’s fucking great!”

“Yeah, baby, this is amazing!” Both of them looked like pubescent boys who were seeing their first tit all over again. I smiled and giggled into my pillow.

With all of the recreational sex and experimenting going on in our lives, I guessed Tyler and I were ready and willing to do porn. We both thought, Okay, let’s just try it out once and see how we feel. Tyler liked watching X-rated movies, but he didn’t need to watch them when we lived together. He didn’t even need to masturbate because I was there for him anytime he needed to fuck or get a blowjob.

Tyler was the first guy to successfully have anal sex with me. I had always wanted it but never could execute it correctly. I first tried when I was seventeen, inspired by my mother’s copy of Henry Miller’s
Quiet Days in Clichy
, which, among other things, is about Mr. Miller fucking French prostitutes in the ass. I didn’t know it would be so tight, so I told the boy to shove it in. We were young and didn’t know a thing about lube or spit. My asshole was dry when the cock went in. It was so painful I passed out. Until Tyler, each attempt at anal was similar to the first. When I finally found someone who made it feel good, I was in love even more.

Tyler and I had the same philosophy: a hedonistic approach to life. Just like any young girl does with her first love, I planned to be with Tyler forever. “Whatever,” we said to one another. “It’s just porn. So what? Let’s try anything. Let’s be open-minded and not limit ourselves to what might be out there. We might enjoy it.” This is just a small sampling of the rationale Tyler and I rolled through in order to put our minds at ease for trying porn. We needed to give ourselves the proper ration of bullshit excuses. We weren’t hurting anyone. No one had to know. It’s not a crime. It’s legal. We will do it together, to be safe. If we don’t like it we’ll leave and never come back. It was our secret. We’d look out for each other. I loved Tyler, and he loved me, so why not? It was crazy, but so were we.

Chapter Two

Trent and Ashley

I
drove
us back to World Modeling. This time I was going through that door with Tyler, whom I loved to the point of insanity. More than anything, I wanted to be just like him. Tyler was a true romantic that did not let silly things, like, oh, consequences, stop him from living every moment to its fullest. I had no idea what the physical standards were in porn, but I had seen VHS cover art shelving tapes as a video store clerk years before. The faces and bodies on those boxes looked ugly and crazy. I didn’t have a lot of confidence trying out to be a fashion model, but I knew I was definitely pretty enough for porn. Tyler was a good-looking guy. It felt like a joke between us, cakewalking into a porn casting interview.

Ty, the agency guy, had us sit down and fill out paperwork. I was feeling much more at ease. My Tyler looked around with a huge smile on his face. The giant posters of the girls and their tits were ridiculous.

Everyone else in that place took it all very seriously. Ty was not laughing with us, and neither were his coworkers, who remained busily focused on multiple telephones luring scores of faceless women on the other ends of the lines into spreading their legs on film for money. Tyler and I were a couple of Beavis and Butt-Heads, as if we were in a human development class encountering the word “vagina” for the first time. Not one sentence read or marked on those papers went without a “huhhuhhuhuh” from either one of us. My paper read: BLOW JOB
____
_, ANAL
____
_, DP
____
_, SWALLOW
____
_, GANG BANG
____
_, INTERRACIAL
____
_, and so on.

“What is this part? What do I put here next to FACIAL?” I was trying my hardest not to laugh. I knew what it meant. I just wanted someone to explain it to me out loud. It was too funny.

Ty let out a sigh and explained. “That is a list of what you’re willing to do on camera. The smart thing for a new girl to do is to start out doing solo stills for print work. After you’ve done all the magazines we can get for you, you move up to girl/girl stills and eventually boy/girl. Much later on in your career, you could consider doing anal, if that is something you decide. Oh, and don’t forget to mention if you have training in anything special, like dance or theatre. You know, I’ll tell you, the reason I’ve been kept working steadily in this business both in front of the camera and behind the scenes so long is because…I can act.”

He was definitely acting. I resented Ty and his advice. Who was he to tell me how to live my new professional sex life? Ty was a little slimy and way out of shape, nothing like my Tyler. It’s so strange that such opposite people can have the same name. I could see that he may have once had a decent face, but he was at least forty pounds overweight, probably more. It worried me to think that there were guys this unattractive doing porno movies.

As for his take on what I should allow myself to be seen doing on camera, well, no thank you. He couldn’t possibly think that I, Oriana Small, would be doing porn as a career. Maybe I’ll do it once, but not for anything long-term, was my thinking. What the hell was he saying about career longevity? Do people actually plan out that they are going to be fucking in a video for the rest of their lives?

No way would I be doing this for very long.
We hadn’t even done one scene, so it was kind of impossible to think about the long-term. How would I know if I could handle it? Or, much less, like it? How much will I regret it and for how long will it follow me? What if my family found out? Or my friends? My enemies? My teachers? Kids that I’ve babysat? Old neighbors? People I see on the street? How will it change the way they feel about me?

All I knew at that moment was that I did not want a stretched-out pornography career any more than I wanted a stretched-out twat. I disregarded everything that Ty said I should do. I checked YES for every category. YES ANAL, YES BOY/GIRL, YES DP, YES BLOWJOB, YES SWALLOW, YES FACIAL, YES CREAMPIE.

That should do it, I thought. That should give me a quick and lucrative stint in the profession. What I did listen to Ty about was the amounts of money I would be paid for each sexual act. Since my supportive and loving boyfriend and I were already engaging in these acts in our spare time, I didn’t bat an eye at doing them on film. If it was already bad enough if anyone found out I was doing porn period, then what difference would it make which deeds I’d be committing while doing it? Who cares? Boy/girl was $800. Anal paid $1,000. DP, $1,200. I thought, If I’m going to ruin my chances at running for political office or teaching school, I might as well make as much money as I can doing it.

I also wanted to be as hardcore as I could be for personal reasons. For one, it would please Tyler and our friends so much, and pleasing everyone was very, very important to me. I had to keep going the distance sexually for myself, too. I had to soar. I wanted to live fully, extraordinarily, not just eking by with some weekend gang bangs from time to time. I realized I had never pursued much in my life with pure gusto, courage, and passion, and often felt caged, dull, and bored. Now, considering the far reaches sex could be pushed to, I felt free.

Tyler just smiled and laughed and cheered the whole process on. When it came time to take the naked Polaroids, we went into a side room and stripped down. There was an old couch in the corner and a fat man with a camera waiting by the door. With Tyler there, I felt protected. He was the one who had to get his dick hard for the picture. All I had to do was undress, stick my butt out, smile, and say “cheese.” I got down on my knees and rubbed Tyler’s cock on my cheek and stuck it in my mouth. Tyler gave the camera his megawatt smile. His dick went up and stuck out proudly. Even in those green, dismal Polaroids, we both looked so fresh and innocent. It was awkward but painless.

Ori became Ashley that day, and Tyler became Trent—our new porno identities.