Going Down in La-La Land (17 page)

“
You asshole! Don’t you ever fucking contact me again or I will cut your balls off!”

I went in my room and shut my door so I didn’t have to hear anymore.

It wasn’t long before he started calling, pleading with Candy, “Please mistress, I beg you, forgive me!”

She would just hang up.

“
I figure not even answering him is more torturous for him rather than calling him every name in the book, since he gets his kicks out of being abused to begin with, the sick fuck,” laughed Candy.

E-mails came as well that started out by stating, “Mistress, it’s your worm.”

Finally we got the answer why he ditched us in the first place. He eventually wrote to her that his last mistress made him suck off her boyfriend’s dick, and he was afraid Candy would make him have sex with me that night because she invited me along for dinner. That one had me on the floor, I was laughing so hard.

“
That toad couldn’t pay me enough to let him even touch my dick!” I laughed in tears.

Yet he kept e-mailing, messages that read, “Please mistress, there is no one as classy as you, or as good of a mistress!”

“
Guess the asshole should have thought of that before he hightailed it down Sunset leaving us stranded,” Candy told me.

The slave was just one more example of depravity I was encountering in Hollywood. Between home and work, it was like the
Twilight Zone.

But in a way it was fun and exciting to feel wanted for once. It was a real change, rather than searching for the right opportunity or big break. And whereas no mainstream agents or casting directors responded to my head shot mailings, I was a rising and wanted star at HUNG Video. I was just riding the wave; soon I’d find something else and come up with a long-term plan. But this is where I was now, and I was going to try and enjoy it and use it for all it was worth.

By now I had become an expert in shrink-wrapping. I could fold that plastic over DVDs and videos like gangbusters, and hold the blow-dryer so that the plastic melted over the surfaces and corners like wet glass. I had become quite proud of myself. In fact, I took more pride in my shrink-wrapping than I did in the fact that I was appearing on the covers of both
Men
and
Unzipped
magazines.
Bobby Steelhard’s Hollywood Garage
was a hit, and Ron told me I was garnering some great fan response.

But I didn’t take any of that too seriously. I had plans of my own. And they included getting my resumé together so I could land a job with a production company or a movie studio. An employment agency I contacted back when I was answering phones at Acclaimed Talent was offering free courses in Word, Excel, and PowerPoint, and my intention was to sharpen up my computer skills for an administrative job. All this X-rated business was just a stepping stone, an amusing diversion I could think back to years from now and laugh about. I was just having fun until the point when I could find a real job.

“
Keep that shrink-wrap rolling!” a loud voice boomed behind me, startling the wits out of me and causing me to knock over a tall stack that had accumulated near my elbow.

I turned around to find Dale Warner laughing at me.

“
Don’t do that shit,” I said in annoyed voice. “I hate it when people sneak up like that.”

My irritation just seemed to give him more satisfaction.

“
I knew you’d get the hang of this in no time flat,” he cracked good-naturedly, picking up one of the fallen VHS cases.

“
I had a very good teacher. Your shrink-wrapping surpasses all. Maybe you’ll direct as well someday,” I joked back.

“
And I take that as quite a compliment coming from big talking, smart-ass Adam,” he laughed, then playfully picked up the blow-dryer and turned it on my face.

“
Watch it!” I laughed, grabbing the end. He turned it off and we both held it for a minute, gazing at each other again and smiling.

“
You know,” he said finally. “Why don’t we go out for a drink tonight? It’s on me. I am very curious to see what Mr. Adam is like in a change of scenery.”

“
Well now that I’m hot shit in front of the camera, my calendar is really full. But since you’re paying, why not? Who am I to kick the gift horse in its mouth?”

“
Spoken like a true hustler,” Dale joked. “I see LA is teaching you well. How does seven sound?”

“
Seven thirty sounds better,” I said.

“
Call you later,” he said and walked off.

I tuned around and bent over to pick up the videos I had knocked over. I heard behind me, “By the way, nice ass!”

Later that night Dale called me a few minutes before half past seven.

“
You ready to hit the town?” he asked.

“
Absolutely,” I answered.

“
How does Mexican sound?”

“
Great.”

“
Then afterwards I have a favorite place I’ll take you for drinks in Silver Lake. It’s called Akbar. Have you been there before?”

“
I haven’t been to Silver Lake at all.”

“
This place is funky, has great jukebox. You’ll love it,” Dale assured me.

We went to a popular joint in West Hollywood called Marix. With a bar that served one margarita after another and a retractable ceiling that revealed a night sky, the place was a mob scene.

We stood at the bar with frozen margaritas in hand while waiting for our table. Dale kept me entertained by filling me in on the gossip about Ron, Brian the photographer, and his other porn pals.

While we spoke, my eyes traveled on his body. I had to keep my thoughts from drifting about how sexy he actually was. I hadn’t been that impressed when I first laid eyes on him, but his gruff looks were growing on me. He wasn’t a pretty boy like Brian. But with his thick, tall, and stocky frame he was all man. His body was firm yet had just a bit of a belly, which I liked. I imagined what my dick would feel like against his abdomen. It must have had a bit of hair on it. His forearms had just the right amount of dark hair on them, sexy but not excessive. The farm-boy face was hiding under a baseball cap, and he wore baggy jeans and a T-shirt. He looked like he was about to go work on his car or get out of shop class.

A number of flashy WeHo guys came up to say hi to him. He seemed so different from the other guys in town. It was strange to think he lived in such a fast world.

“
So how’d you get involved in porn anyways?” I asked after we had been seated.

“
By accident, the same way a lot of people do I suppose,” he began. “I moved out here from Ohio with a guy I was with at the time, who has since moved back to Cleveland. I started doing crew work on films, that and working as a delivery guy. Back home I had always been into building things, like sets for theater and stuff like that, and always huge projects in shop.”

“
So I was right!” I blurted out, happy at my early industrial arts assessment of Dale.

“
Right about what?” he turned his head to the side with a suspicious smile and peered at me.

“
You were an industrial arts dude. I’m sorry to interrupt. Finish your story,” I said.

“
Okay, we’ll revisit that one later,” he teased. “Soon one thing led to another and before I knew it I was doing what you’ve been doing, the grunt work on porn sets. I got along well with Ron and the other companies I work for, and saw the other idiots who were directing and didn’t know what the fuck they we’re doing.” He stopped to take a sip of his frozen margarita.

“
Anyways,” he said after a long swallow, “I’d always been into filmmaking, you know,
Star Wars
and all that,” he laughed. He was growing sexier by the minute.

“
So one day I asked if I could pick up the camera at one of the cheaper companies, and they said sure. And using that as a springboard, I’ve doing it ever since. I taught myself how to edit, and now I edit my own shit and for other directors as well.”

“
And the rest is all history,” I smiled.

“
That’s all she wrote!” he laughed.

“
So you’ve become something of a tycoon,” I said flippantly.

“
Well, I don’t know about
tycoon,
” he emphasized, teasing me back. “But I’m doing all right. I’m not sure if it’s something I want to do forever, but it’s great for now. Some of the nicest, coolest people I have met in porn. Most of them are much nicer than the mainstream industry people in town, who are just as sleazy behind closed doors. I mean, porn might not be for everybody, but it’s been great for me.”

“
Right, not for everybody,” I repeated, thinking out loud. Everything seemed to be happening so fast since I came to LA with no job and very little money. It seemed like a complete whirlwind. In just a few short months I found myself involved in a world I thought I’d never encounter, except perhaps during a few horny and lonely nights at my local video store. It wasn’t even a case of whether it was good or bad anymore, it was just where I was in my life, trying to survive day by day. And for the time being the world of porn meant survival.

“
Come on,” Dale said, breaking me away from my thoughts. It must have been obvious I was thinking pretty deep.“Let’s blow this joint.”

Akbar was great—the first place I felt really comfortable at since coming to LA. It was definitely an eclectic crowd, totally mixed, straight and gay, guys and girls. Like Dale said, it had the best jukebox, from Tina Turner to David Bowie to Elvis to Nancy Sinatra, one great choice after another. The interior was lit with red Chinese lanterns and above a few banquet booths was a painting of a nude Asian woman reclining on cushions with an opium pipe next to her.

A pierced and tattooed girl bartender with a perfect Bettie Page hairdo and liquid eyeliner poured our drinks. We went and sat on a seat in the back near a few giggling girls and their boyfriends. The funky, artsy people reminded me of the East Village.

“
So what do you think?” Dale asked loudly in a proud voice after sitting down. Dusty Springfield’s “Son of a Preacher Man” was blaring from the jukebox. He could already tell I loved the place and he had impressed me.

“
It’s great,” I said. “It reminds me of my old neighborhood in New York.”

“
You miss New York a lot, don’t you?” he asked.

I looked up at an old autographed black and white head shot of legendary horror actress Karen Black and nodded, “Yeah. I do.”

I looked at him solemnly. But I didn’t want to turn the night into a downer, thinking I made a mistake moving to LA. “But this is really great,” I repeated with a smile.

“
Glad you like it,” he smiled back sheepishly at me.

Then I grabbed his hand and gripped it tight.

“
Thanks for the night out, Dale. It’s really sweet of you,” I said gazing at his eyes.

He gazed back at me, and his expression changed from a sheepish grin to one of intense desire.

Then it happened. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. I felt the tip of his tongue greet my own lips, but his tongue didn’t have to wait long. I opened up my mouth and let it in, the warm wetness of our mouths melting into each other, tongues sliding around each other, taking breaks to nibble at each others lips and tug back and forth. This went on for a few minutes until our eyes opened and we pulled back to look at one another.

“
Come on,” he said intently. “I’m taking you back to my place.”

Saying nothing, I got up and followed.

He lived in a one-bedroom condo on Sweetzer, in the heart of West Hollywood. We said little on the way there. My hand rested on his thigh the whole way, and he rubbed his own hand up and down my thigh. When we got too close to each other’s groins we stopped, saving anything more for when we reached our destination. The mood was feverish and intense for the duration of the ride. He drove like a madman, eager to get to his place as soon as possible.

We parked in his garage. After getting out of the car we leaned against the trunk and kissed under the fluorescent lighting, breathing heavily. In the quiet stillness of the garage and the shiny cars parked around us, all I could hear was our breathing.

“
Come on. Let’s go upstairs,” he said, putting his arm around my waist and leading me to the elevator.

We made out some more waiting for the elevator, filling up our mouths and biting at each other’s lips. The force he put on me made me struggle to stand up straight. When the elevator door opened we didn’t stop right away. We kept making out, and Dale instinctively put his hand out to keep the doors open and pushed me inside.

When the doors closed our mouths were still on each other. Then, using his huge arms, Dale placed his hands under both my butt cheeks and picked me up, slamming me back against the elevator wall and shoving his tongue into my throat as deep as it could possibly go.

I let out a loud moan of delight. The little elevator shook at the force of our crashing bodies. My feet didn’t touch the ground before we reached the third floor. Neither of us was aware of it when the doors opened. Dale was too busy straddling me up against the wall and I was too busy enjoying it.