How I Fucked Up My Porn Career

This is the story about how I almost became the face of eating ass in porn movies. It's a sequel of sorts to my stories "My First Porn Movie" and "the Victory Lap Audition." This all happened in the early 1980s, nearly four decades ago.

Things were different then when it came to porn. Big cities had real theatres that showed adult movies, and a lot of people were buying VCR's and you could buy porn tapes to show on your tv. But internet porn didn't exist because there was no internet yet, and most of the videotapes that were legal to sell were very tame because of local laws in various states. Things like plot still mattered, and most of the men and women were better actors but not as good looking as today. Boob jobs and prosthetic penises where not a thing.

I had just done my first porn movie, and something happened during an audition for my second role. I was supposed to be sucking a guy off, but he wouldn't cum and I was getting lockjaw. I'd been told the assignment was to get him off with my mouth, so I spun him around and stuck my tongue up his ass. When that got his attention, I reached around and jerked him off and he came all over the carpet.

I was relieved that he'd finally gotten off, and didn't think much of it all, but the sex act caught the producer's attention. He knew the market and said that featuring a "deviant" sex act was becoming big business. He explained that a movie called "Caught from Behind" was selling like hotcakes because it put the l spotlight on ass-fucking. Another called "Taboo" had filled theatres because it depicted a story about a guy that fucked his mom. Money talks and it was saying that audiences wanted something more than just fucking and sucking on film.

He said rimming wasn't really a big thing in movies yet, but that it should be. He wanted to build a whole movie around the idea. He pulled a whole big meeting on the subject with money people who had supported his past movie productions. I was invited if I promised to sit quietly and just be an "inspiration." They all sat around and discussed the subject, and it was generally agreed that it was risky. Would people really be into a movie featuring ass-to-mouth contact? Everyone agreed that the potential reward was worth it.

That settled, they went to work coming up with a name. "Frenching the starfish" was an early favorite. "Kissing the Pope's Ring" was another that came up and there was discussion of a whole Vatican story with priests and nuns, but no one wanted to go that far. "Tongue Fucking the Fart Box" was tossed out as a possible comedy and got a lot of laughs but no takers. Finally, everyone focused in on "Girls who eat ass" and then the Producer added on "Volume 1" and everyone nodded their heads in approval.

The producer introduced me as the star of the movie, and everyone agreed enthusiastically. A lot of these men had been in the room when I had done the original audition and had watched me do my thing, and I had pretty much left them all speechless.

Next came the investment discussion, and the checkbooks came out. Everyone agreed that this would be the biggest marketing push they had ever done. One of the money guys put his arm around me on the way out the door and said "Twyla dear, we are going to make you famous" before he tweaked my ass and jumped in his Buick.

Now it was my turn to be speechless. I guess I knew the Producer was thinking of me for a possible role in the movie - but I was thinking it through, and I was torn about it all. Would I be able to walk down the street without fear of being recognized as the star of "Girls who Eat Ass: Volume 1?" Would I be typecast and end up being rim job queen my whole career?

When I got too old for the movies, would I be able to get a real job? Maybe as a spokesperson for a toilet paper company? Nothing about being the face of eating ass seemed appealing.

I didn't tell the Producer about my concerns. I just didn't sign the contract that he sent me. He called a few times, asked me to dinner and wined and dined me, and finally sent me a contract offering more money and an option on three more movies. I wasn't sure what to do, so I did nothing.

Finally, I got a call from the Producer and I could tell he was tactically ignoring my lack of signature. We made small talk, he shared some of the comments that he'd gotten from the editor doing the final cut on my first film, and finally invited me to the "big premiere" he was doing on it for investors at his house that weekend.

When you do what I did for a living, you learn fast that time is money and weekends are when the big money happens. I explained to him he was asking me to give up the weekend that the railroad dropped their payroll. A railroad worker with his paycheck in one pocket had a hard-on in the other one, and I needed to be there to coax a load out of both pockets.

The producer just laughed. "Quit thinking so damned small," he sounded exasperated, so he explained it to me. "You are a porn star now. The men at that party invest a lot of money in porn movies. Do you know how much they will pay to fuck an actual porn star?"

He told me that he had a bedroom ready for me and he didn't need a cut of the money I was to earn. "Just treat them right."

The car arrived for me just after lunch that Friday. Normally I'd have crawled into the back of the big continental cruiser, but I saw that it was Gary, who worked for the studio and was a nice enough guy, so I tossed my stuff in the back and jumped in the front seat.

"It seems too early for a party Gary. Will I be the first one there?" Gary assured me that most of the attendees were already at the house. "They are all really eager to meet you." He said it with a leer and a wink that confirmed he knew what was up. He might as well have said, "They are eager to put their meat in you." He said I was going to make a lot of money that evening (and he was right.)

When we got to the house, Gary led me up to my bedroom for the evening and dropped off my overnight bag and make-up kit. It was a nice room matching the ritzy nature of the house. The bed was clean and there were no hidden cameras. (Something I was paranoid about anytime I was invited into a private home.) I took a minute to freshen up - breath check, quick wipe front and aft to be clean and edible and went back downstairs.

The house featured a huge room that was a combination sports bar, game room, and den. One wall of it overlooked a very nice pool and deck and there were multiple televisions mounted in the walls at every sight angle. The crowd was large - almost all men - and I recognized many faces in the crowd. Some of them were investors. Others were crew members from the film. A few I knew from town owned the car dealerships and biggest insurance agencies.

The place reeked of what passed for money and power in Iowa. (Insert any joke you want on that. The truth is probably funnier and more pathetic.). There were a few women - maybe trophy wives but more likely paid escorts or mistresses hanging on the arms a few men.

The three actors I'd had sex on film with were there too. They were all extra animated - probably coked to the gills - and Sasha (the female lead actress) was wearing a dress that was made of lace that was as see-thru as a plastic sandwich bag. I noticed that Sasha had lost a little weight since our scene together, and also her pubic hair.

Everyone grabbed drinks and mingled. I felt like I was on display and did my best just to smile and drink too much. I knew that some of these men would be looking to buy my services later, but for now, I was content to keep everyone at arms-length and enjoy a little afternoon alcohol.

When the time came, they closed the black-out curtains on the windows that were floor to ceiling facing the pool, and most took seats at the various tables and bars in the large hall. The lights went out, and the several televisions all flickered to life with the adult movie that was being debuted.

I had never seen my scenes and it turned out I wasn't destined to. The Producer tugged at my arm and led me from the room before I had a chance to see myself on screen. We went out to a small office and he started in on me about the contract again, and he got a bit pissy about my hesitancy to sign it. I went from being a "brilliant young star" to be a "stupid, ungrateful girl" and finally we settled on "impetuous young potential talent that needs to learn to commit."

The conversation came to an end when we heard polite clapping that marked the of the movie, which couldn't have been more than 30 minutes long. Before I left, the producer gently admonished me that I needed to get the contract signed soon, or there would be repercussions.

We stepped out into the crowd just in time to hear the excited post movie mingling. I was pleased to hear that most of the commentary was about me though some of it was just a bit rude. One older man asked "She looks too young. Are you sure she's legal to do this?" Another just said, "She knew her way around a dick, didn't she?" A few complimented my acting.

(There were also a few comments to the tune of "bitches cunt looked like she got hit with an axe" and "I was bored as soon as she took her top off" but I tended to ignore the negative.)

Two different people made the comment that they thought I'd be doing "it" in the movie. I sensed they had already heard about the Producers big idea about a rim job movie and thought I would eating ass in the film they'd just seen. (I had done just about everything else in that film, but no ass stuff.)

Some people bellied back up to the bar, but a number of the men surrounded Sasha or I, and I quickly had a man whispering in my ear that he'd like to have a more intimate conversation with me. I looked over and Sasha was already on her way to her room with a man in tow, so I felt comfortable giving my excuses before taking my whispering admirer by the arm and tugging him away from the crowd. On our way up the stairs, the Producer called out to me to remind me that dinner would be served at 7:30 and he really wanted me to be there.

I spent the next few hours entertaining men. It was a mostly pleasant and highly profitable experience. They paid better, smelled better and were a lot more hygienic than my regular clientele. They were also not afraid to ask for or pay for what they wanted. It's a basic economic law of prostitution that you charge extra for the special orders and kinks, so a man who liked light bondage or wanted to play games in the bathtub paid more, and they gladly did so, often with generous tips on top.

I pushed my last early evening trick out the door just in time for a quick shower and gargle before heading off to dinner. On the way down, the Producer pulled me aside to have yet another "sign the contract damn it" conversation and I pointedly ignored him. Despite my apathy, the Producer again talked up his next movie and how big of a deal he though anilingus on film would be, and again he stressed how good of an investment this moving would be. I sensed the crowd was more interested than I was.

After dinner, the crowd changed a lot. Most of the men left, but the few with female partners (be they escorts or wives) stayed and additional girls showed up to the part. They pretty much all looked like party favors, not guests, and I was okay with that.

My evenings business changed considerably as well. Two more men - both with their female companions. (I hesitate to call them "couples" though they did some coupling, I'm sure.) I was okay with that too. More pay, less work usually.

These tricks I remember a little better because it was like I was back in front of a movie camera - the males gave instructions and the women and I acted out as requested. Since the Producer had expounded on the subject of rim jobs during dinner, and I had been introduced as the expert at them during lunch, the sex act was not just requested, but a centerpiece of their requests.

Doing the thing - on them and on their dates for the evening - was easier than the interest that they expressed at it all. After a while, I felt like a product demonstrator at a tradeshow. They treated me like I really had something to say on the subject, so I did what I had to - I made it up as I went along.

There were hygiene questions of course, which were awkward and non-sexy to answer. It helped distract them if I took the time to lecture them on the pleasures that awaited those fresh out of the shower and how when you lick a woman's ass it's fun and stimulating to simultaneously rub your nose on their clits. I also mentioned that it was a gateway to getting their girl to enjoy anal more. (The women both rolled their eyes at that line. People in "the life" develop an accurate bullshit detector.)

The technique came up as a question, so I winged it. A technique that respected both the soft lick and the invasive tongue fuck was recommended. I compared the practice with cunnilingus and the common French kiss.

Pretty quickly, it became clear that both girls worked in films already or wanted to. I didn't know if they were paid to be there or just auditioning, but they worked a bit too hard to be just "escorts." They followed my instructions, asked questions and added their own flourishes.

Both sessions I did after dinner was much longer and paid very well. By the time I finished my second date, it was close to 1:30 in the morning. I slid on a robe that I found behind the bathroom door and popped downstairs for a drink. I found that the outdoor pool area was still active (naked swimmers - both men and women - with some side action on the lawn furniture that surrounded the pool) but inside it was fairly dead.

Gary the driver and all-around Guy Friday was there, collecting glasses and emptying ashtrays, and he asked after me and engaged in chitchat. Otherwise, I was undisturbed as I raided the whiskey bottles and used high-end liquor to get the taste of the evening out of my mouth. It took a lot of liquor to do that - so I ended up hanging with him until well after 2 AM, and finally got chased upstairs when the pool party people started coming inside. I hid my substantial earnings for the evening and went to bed alone.

Morning didn't roll around for me until around 10ish, and since most of the evening's revelers had families, jobs, etc. the house was pretty much empty when I got my shit together enough to slip on some clothes and slide downstairs. I found no Producer. No breakfast or even coffee. Gary was there to help me gather my limited luggage and drove me back to my place where I went back to bed and slept until well after 7 PM when it was time to get up and go to work.

I got no phone calls or messages from the Producer and no more push to sign the contract. A week later I got a script in my mailbox for a movie that was unspectacular in every way and that didn't include any of the special sex act that the Producer had been so enthusiastic about. My own part was uninspiring, but I showed up, did my scenes and picked up an uninspiring paycheck.

I never heard from the Producer again after that, though Gary showed up at my place once and again strictly for non-business reasons. I wasn't at all surprised when a few months later he slid by my apartment with a bottle of wine, Chinese take-out, some good blow and a copy of the movie I'd been pushed to sign for.

The two women I'd shared my bed that party night with were featured on the box cover of a movie. They were dressed as cheerleaders on a basketball court. The movie was called "Hitting the Rim." It was exactly what you'd expect - a sex film with maybe one kind of sex act that hadn't been featured before, but otherwise was unremarkable.

As a review, I'd say "Hitting the Rim" was filled with bad acting, hokey plot and pretty young girls doing naughty things and having naughty things done to them.

The rim job stuff was, I'd had to say, not a good addition to the movie. Pretty girls faces, planted into a man's ass, didn't make for great optics and looked like it had been hard to shoot because of the close quarters. The act was moderately more interesting during the lesbian scene, but then lesbian sex usually is. I also noticed that anal sex was pretty much in every male/female scene and the "cream pie' was lingered on a lot more than I'd seen in past films. Progress in the art and science of pornography.

I turned if off after the first few scenes - partly because Gary and I were ready for bed if not necessarily sleep, but also because there are some things you really shouldn't watch after bad Chinese food.

As far as I know, the movie was never a hit or even got much distribution, so I guess all I missed was a paycheck, but I wasn't sorry that I'd missed the opportunity. I don't know what happened to either of the two women who starred in the film, nor what happened to the production company, other than it was driven out of business by well-financed studios on the west coast.

Gary and I didn't work out as a couple - he didn't like my profession - and I'd soon re-connect with an ex-lover from my earlier life who was having a lot of success as a drug trafficker. The work I did with my dealer friend paid better than hooking or doing movie work, though was ultimately more personally destructive.