Out of the Blue: Confessions of an Unlikely Porn Star (22 page)

Read Out of the Blue: Confessions of an Unlikely Porn Star Online

Authors: Blue Blake

BOOK: Out of the Blue: Confessions of an Unlikely Porn Star
8.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
I arrived at the address I had been given to find it was a car repair shop with the crew waiting inside. Mocha greeted me with a hug. “Girl, you’re going to be on the cover of this one!”
Getting the box cover of a film was all-important. It raised your status within the porn industry and of course everybody craved that. I had heard I was also going to appear on the cover of
Posing Strap
so I was thrilled.
The movie was a film called
Lube Job
and, believe it or not, it was based on Charles Dickens’
A Christmas Carol
. I played the Scrooge character, an evil boss who owned a garage and abused his underlings by fucking them and then underpaying them. The movie was written and directed by Jeff Kincaid. Although he was only in his fifties, Jeff wore very thick glasses and hearing aids in each ear. He reminded me of a ferret, a very sweet ferret, but a ferret. Jeff and I instantly got on famously. He wrote very exotic dialogue and had done a lot of films for All Worlds. It was all: “Yeah, you fucking male pussy boy slut, take daddy’s dick like the man whore you are!”
Of course that just rolled off of my tongue. My co-star was a young blonde kid named Sam Dixon whom I had to fuck on the top of a sports car. Easy.
The scene came off perfectly and, as I liked everybody on the set, I actually managed to stay rock hard and shoot a huge load. I threw myself into the role with wild abandon. Jeff loved my acting and said he wanted me for his films.
The next day I met Rick Ford. He didn’t look a day over fifty and I actually quite fancied him. He was very mellow and laughed a lot. He told me he had heard great things about me and looked forward to working together.
The plot of
Lube Job
revolved around my character, an evil garage owner for whom there was no redemption until his ex-boyfriend, who had died in a motorcycle accident: appeared to him as a ghost, showed him the consequences of his actions, and forced him to renounce his evil ways. That meant allowing Sam Dixon to fuck ME to show him what a good guy I had become. I would have preferred to remain evil!!
The porn star playing my dead boyfriend was a really good-looking guy named Dino De Marco—Italian, thick dark hair, very handsome.
After the shoot Rick Ford summoned me to his office.
“Judging by the footage, you are going to be really, really good in the film.”
“Thanks,” I replied coyly.
“You’ll definitely be hearing from us again, I produce a lot of films.”
That was an understatement. They were cranking out about one a week. Of course, some were of dubious quality, but I knew how to avoid the cheap productions. I was the new kid on the block and word was spreading quickly that I was good.
Jeff Kincaid became one of my favorite directors and All Worlds one of my favorite companies to work for. I starred in a film called
Ramjet
for them where I played an Iraqi terrorist leader who shot down American fighter pilots from the sky with a handheld bazooka. When they crashed I would drag the pilots from the wreckage and fuck them. I even had to rape a young guy named Bryan Kidd, who played the local goat herder. I had the immortal line: “Achmed . . . pass me the young goat herder for his hole is fresh and tight.”
Of course this was another Jeff Kincaid flick and I devoured his dialogue with relish. It was pure camp to me.
Ramjet
also starred Drew Andrews, Alec Powers, Max Grand and Cutter West. Alec and Cutter were two straight blond beefy jocks who made me swoon. They were both extremely sexy, needless to say. Years later I worked with Cutter, but I never got the chance to work with Alec Powers which was a shame because he was drop dead gorgeous.
Max Grand was an enormous star at the time. He played the pilot who got shot down and was raped. Max looked Persian and had an extremely handsome face. We worked together many times over the following years.
In a film called
Forgive Us Our Trespasses
I played a leather master. Mike Donner directed this movie about a randy priest who prowled leather bars looking for homo action. They had built a leather dungeon on the set and I had to chain a guy between two posts and fuck him. I was in full leather, which was incredibly uncomfortable, and my body harness kept squishing my balls, making me lose my hard-on. The film had more dialogue than I had ever seen in a porn flick but luckily my scene was brief and went quickly. I had kept all my body harnesses and leather accoutrements from my Mr. Drummer days, so they came in handy for anything with a leather flavor. I was slowly building up my resume and becoming more and more comfortable on the sets. I could now even fuck guys I didn’t fancy.
One of the most beautiful models of his day was a stunning young bodybuilder named Kyle McKenna from Salt Lake City. He was spectacular looking so when I was offered the opportunity to work with him I jumped at the chance. The movie,
Balls in Play
was produced by All Worlds and directed by Jeff Kincaid. I played an openly gay football player who was harassed by a fellow footballer played by Paul Carrigan. Paul was a total dreamboat. Straight and married, he had roughly hewn features and a stocky build. It was the first time I had played a football player in a film and I was really excited about the idea. Whenever I got the chance to get into a different uniform I would throw myself into the role with utter glee. I never cared if people thought my acting was over the top. All my directors seemed to enjoy it. Probably because unlike most porn models they had to beg to utter a few syllables, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. Once they called “action,” I was up and running.
I arrived on the set for my first day of filming and to my astonishment they had built a row of bleachers. Not just that, they had rented full American football uniforms for us to wear. Shoulder pads, football cleats; the whole kit. Being born in England I had never worn an American football uniform, so once I tried it on I couldn’t resist parading myself up and down the street. I thought I was the cat’s whiskers.
“OK,” said Jeff, “Blue, you are fucking Kyle under the bleachers, while everybody is watching the football game . . . action!”
I jumped on Kyle and began ripping at his shorts.
“Hold on a second,” said the cameraman “The bleachers don’t look real because we can’t see anybody’s legs through the slats.”
“Everybody who isn’t on the set climb onto the bleachers and dangle their legs down!” yelled Jeff.
All the crew climbed onto the bleachers and sat there like they were watching a real football game. I loved this about porn. Everything was resolvable. The real film industry could learn a lot about filmmaking from these maverick porn directors. Why hire a hundred extras when you can get the crew to swing their skinny legs around? Why hire Wrigley Field when you can knock together bleachers in someone’s back yard?
“Much better,” Jeff said, “It looks like we are shooting under the bleachers at the fucking Super Bowl . . . action!”
I again jumped on Kyle and began fucking the hell out of him.
“Cut!” yelled Jeff suddenly, “Kyle isn’t hard . . . let Kyle get hard.”
Jesus Christ I thought . . . does Kyle have to be hard, I’m the one fucking him. I was definitely going to lose my momentum if we kept starting and stopping like this.
“Sorry,” said Kyle shyly, “It’s not you . . . it’s just . . . ” his voice trailed off.
“Hey . . . It’s no big deal,” I grinned and I meant it. He was so bloody handsome I would have forgiven him anything.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Well, perhaps if you could play with my nipples and talk dirty to me,” Kyle whispered.
“Everybody clear the set!” Jeff screamed. Wow, he must have had his hearing aids turned up full blast to hear Kyle’s request.
“Let’s give Kyle and Blue five minutes of privacy.”
The crew climbed off the bleachers and wandered over to the food table and began talking amongst themselves. Kyle sank to his knees and looked up at me imploringly.
“Tell me what a naughty boy I’ve been, Daddy.”
Aah, so this is what he was into. No problem, I could play that role.
“You’ve been a real naughty boy,” I admonished. “Daddy has to punish you for being so bad.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” said Kyle, “Are you angry at me for sucking Fido’s cock?”
“Yeah, very angry.” I said thinking, who the hell is Fido?
“It’s just that I couldn’t keep out of Fido’s kennel and his pink doggie dick looked so pink and delicious . . . ”
Doggie dick??? Pink and delicious??? It suddenly dawned on me that Kyle was talking about sucking a real dog’s cock. I had heard that Mormons could be on the kinky side when they left the faith but this was INSANE. He was so handsome, who knew he was into bestiality?
“Yeah,” I snarled. “Well don’t make Daddy have to force you to suck off Mr. Franklin’s Doberman next door.”
“Would you really make me do that, Daddy?” asked Kyle. I noticed he was rock hard.
“He’s hard!” I yelled, “Everybody back on the set!”
The rest of the scene went perfectly. I fucked the hell out of Kyle. So what if he fantasized about sucking a dog’s dick? Who was I to judge, as long as he didn’t give me mange I didn’t give a shit. After the shoot I was chatting with one of the crew about my strange encounter with Kyle.
“I heard he was in a three-way relationship for a while and liked being humiliated,” said the makeup artist.
A couple of years later Kyle McKenna killed himself in Salt Lake City, Utah. I suppose he just couldn’t deal with his own personal demons. I cried when I heard the news.
The next day I drove to the set with Paul Carrigan. He told me his normal job was working as a Key Grip on mainstream films. He pulled out a joint and we shared it as we watched the crew run around setting up the scene. I had a huge crush on Paul. There was something so inherently masculine about him. He didn’t have a perfect body; he was even a little poochie, which excited me even more. I vowed to work with him on as many films as possible. Getting paid a thousand bucks to get fucked or fuck guys like Paul Carrigan was why I had gotten into porn in the first place. My other scene in the film was with a black guy named Jack Simmons, who was to play a rapist who had been hired by Paul Carrigan to rape me before the big game. Jack was a good-looking guy with a big dick.
Meeting me for the first time, he said, “When they asked me to do this film I asked to work with you . . . I’ve seen you in other films and your talking dirty drives me crazy.”
“Well, I’m very flattered,” I said, “But did you notice in the script that whilst you’re fucking me I’m unconscious because you’ve drugged me?”
“WHAT!?” he yelled.
It was true, according to the script I was to be unconscious while getting fucked by Jack.
“No . . . no . . . I don’t believe it.”
Sure enough when we began to shoot the scene I had to lay as motionless as possible. It was impossible for Jack to get hard.
“Please can you just squirm a little bit?” he begged.
I began to wriggle.
“Blue you’re unconscious . . . stop moving around!” screamed Jeff, “I want you to look like dead meat.”
The scene took hours and hours to film and poor Jack was nearly in tears with frustration. Finally we finished the scene though Jack never got fully hard.
Jeff came up and said afterwards, “Blue you really are remarkably talented. I’m shooting another film tomorrow for All Worlds . . . Its called
Shoot The Chute
. . . would you mind playing a nonsexual role?”
“Sure. What’s the role?”
“You’ll be a gypsy fortune-teller,” Jeff said brightly. I swear to God, I couldn’t make this shit up. Who the hell was going to buy a film with me playing a gypsy fortune-teller? Apparently everybody, because I still bump into people who tell me they saw the film.
When I say gypsy fortune-teller I mean the whole nine yards. Crystal ball, scarf with gold coins wrapped around my head, voodoo dolls everywhere. I found myself swathed in bright colored robes and chocolate pan-stick doing my best impression of Marie Laveau. A gypsy tent had been built for me and I marveled at all the set dressings. Where the hell had the crew found all these shrunken heads? I wondered.
Unfortunately this was the last film I made for Jeff. All Worlds stopped using him. I don’t know why. Although we stayed in touch for a while, we eventually lost contact. I will always remember him fondly for the great roles he lavished upon me, even if some of them were more than a little unusual.
When I mentioned to Paul Carrigan that I wanted to work for other studios, he told me about someplace called Nasty Studios. I had never heard of it but Paul told me that they made a lot of films, paid well, and that they were always in need of good looking guys.
“But what kind of films do they make?” I asked Paul.
“All kinds,” he winked.
This all sounded very vague but I trusted Paul so I got the address and gave them a call. They seemed to know who I was and asked me to come along for an interview the next day.

Other books

More Than Friends by Monique Devere
The Profiler by Pat Brown
The Woman From Paris by Santa Montefiore
Los caminantes by Carlos Sisí
Drunk Mom by Jowita Bydlowska
Sequela by Cleland Smith
The Beautiful One by Emily Greenwood