Porn Valley Life

You know who’s nice? Olivia O’Lovely. You see enough pictures of a porn celebrity in a confrontational pose, looking  - I don’t know, sternly? - at the camera and you think that perhaps she might not be accessible, or friendly. Not that they owe it to you to be either of those things, but it’s pleasant when they are.

Anyway, so there she was at a recent “Pussy Party” shoot, laughing while Flower Tucci wagged a dildo at her and posing, bemused, for the visiting photographer who’d brought a ghetto blaster loaded with house music. He attempted to get her in the mood (generally porn shoots don’t have music playing during still photography because there’s a scene taking place nearby) with the driving beats outside a Porn Valley McMansion rental. There was a porn shoot going on next door, too, and the neighbors complained.

Anyway, Olivia O’Lovely is delightful.

The petite Cayenne is one of the many treats in Private’s well-presented  Ibiza Sex Party 2. One of the handful of European porn stars who crack a smile, she is carried to a sandbar and pretty much ensalinated for her courteous nature while, far offshore, sailors on a Liberian freighter strained at their spyglasses.

People who have actually had sex on a beach know that Cayenne earned her Euros that day.

Buy the movie here.

One of my favorite parts of any porn movie - and they are increasingly rare now that such films are mass-produced and rigidly formatted - is the transition between positions. The performers aren’t looking for their best light, they’re not biting their fingers at the camera, they’re not holding their stomachs in. In fact, they can’t have expected that they were even being filmed.

For some reason, this appeals to the Ur-porn section of my brain, the part that liked to sneak peaaks at National Geographics. I’m looking at women being sexy without knowing it.

Here’s Harmony on the dismount in a scene from Hustler’s Stuffed … she looks good when she knows she’s on camera, too.

Jesse Jane is a hard worker, and maximizes her time as a porn star while not skimping on  the things that matter most, like cooking meat outdoors.

It’s important to remember that this is what Jesse Jane looks like at home. Do you look like this at home? You do not look like this at home. It’s not like someone said, “Hey, let me take your picture with that weapons-grade industrial battle spatula with teeth on one end” and she said, “Hold on, let me go put on a sexy outfit.” She was already wearing the sexy outfit.

I wonder if the steaks smelled like melon body spray.

Because altporn’s definitions, if any, are claimed by different factions, I have renamed “studio” or corporate altporn “steveporn”. In that world recently there have been rumblings at the top, and it is whispered that that frosted mini-kingdom is going to come crashing down.

On the same day this week I received two bits of media, one a sock puppet interview of a thinly-disguised steveporn official on Penthouse Digital’s upcoming “Sexual Revolution”, and the other this doctored ad from Willie , of porn chatroom .

What does it mean if the work of the “haters” is more coherent than that which they ae hating on?

I don’t know how I found her website but find it I did: Alix Lakehurst is fascinating.

The juicy Chicagoan discovered a Christy Canyon Playboy spread and  found some validation in the images of her own full-figured sexiness. In addition to making a pilgrimage to meet Canyon in person, Lakehurst started her own mostly-Internet-based porn career, which she details on her website, We Could Be Naked. Among the compelling guilty pleasures thereon can be found Lakehurst’s famous subway flashing videos and her trials and tribulations with the wrong kind of guy.

Sometimes the writing is painfully earnest, the sort of intimate information one wants to know but often quails in the face of being presented voluntarily.

The net effect is that you want Lakehurst to win (you also want other things from Lakehurst, but the personal story is as intriguing).

Despite the hyppe it has received, I enjoyed Not the Bradys XXX, especially Jasmine Byrne, whose dirty talk I found compelling despite the lack of “Gram!” utterances.

To prove her flexibility and sexworthiness, here Byrne bites her own knee. I think this gestuure should replace the double middle fingers in ppornic iconography.

Her own knee. Now that’s great.

Buy the movie here.

This is the type of movie I can use as an example of porn I appreciate even if it’s not right for me.

A lesbian BDSM romp featuring Michelle Aston and Amber Rayne, Bleu Productions’  was shot by Maria Beatty on a shoestring plot. Aston both worships and whips Amber Rayne, who is willingly subservient. Rayne is trussed, pinched, slapped, clipped, and penetrated.

It was strange watching these clinical proceedings in natural light, but there you go. It was clear Beatty loved her subjects, because some of the shots were so casual, brutal, and beautiful at the same time - and there were so many of them - that they couldn’t have happened by accident.

But I couldn’t identify with the feeling Aston was possessed of, no matter how simple and eloquent an erotic statement this movie is. But I know some women who would watch this movie and pass out with joy.

There is a lot to say about Joe Gallant’s latest movie, The Skin Trade, that doesn’t include cover girl Sasha Grey, but she is definitely the cherry on this cake someone left out in the rain.

For those of us who have only been watching the same kind of rechewed porn for a few years (and there’s nothing wrong with that), Skin Trade recaptures a sort of dirty, guilty, back alley shame that many in our monkey brains refuse to disassociate from “porn”, no matter how many sun-drenched Porn Valley scenes we enjoy on a daily basis.

Jones, crawl, and shamble, don’t walk, to your nearest video store to see The Skin Trade.

I was on the set of David Aaron Clark’s “No Man’s Land: Asian” watching the barefoot Jandi and Kitty remove the vestments of the fabulously hair-extended Ange Venus.

“It’s like you’re removing the robes of the queen” Clark said, adding, “as it were.”

Clark is a pragmatist and said “as it were” because he remembers that this is porn.

Anyway, I got to thinking that, other than blowing one’s load on someone else’s face at the end of a sequence that starts at a blowjob and travels through two or three positions, there are no traditions in porn that we can readily identify; no Thanksgiving dinner, no tea service, no Monday Night Football.

I guess we’ll have to make do with the facial load-blowing (and, since the “No Man’s Land” series is all girls, the robe removal is, I guess, an adequate substitute).