last days of sydney - porno

a month before heading overseas i had been asked to shoot a porno. after working at a clients with the Elk a few weeks earlier i thought it would be a good idea to do the scene together. it would also be a good chance to recover from the terrible 'blind date' porn shoot i did a few years ago. also, new pics and more exposure would be good for scoring more work overseas.

plus, shooting a porno with your boyfriend, having both your genitals laid out like a splayed haddock mashed together and smeared all over the interwebs on a cheap porn site. how fucking romantic is that? totes, right?

shooting gay porn is a secondary business for all involved in Australia. no one devotes their entire career to porn. it's always a side project or a hobby. for this reason arranging a time when all involved could shoot the scene did not eventuate before the Elk had to fly to Ireland. 

also there are also no fulltime porn stars. as  the late great smart-ass Erik Rhodes stated over an over to the army of many people asking him about a career in porn - you don't make money being an actor, you do the movies to boost your profile and make all your money hookin'. private shows. by the hour. that's where the money is

in the following weeks i received calls, texts and emails to arrange a shoot. i asked for pictures of the other model and i would agree if i thought the scene could work. (i.e., if he wasn't an emaciated crackhead twink that would make my cock invert to a fanny). the photographer had no idea how to attach an image until the 5th email and when he did it was 28billionMB and a file only InDesign could open. who the fuck has InDesign? what photographer uses InDesign to showcase their work?

still, they pushed on until i got a different photographer and a different model. busy as hell in my final weeks i took no bookings on the day of the shoot. 

i turned up outside the location, some guys house, impressing all involved by rolling in on a motorbike. the pornographer was a great guy. the other model, though a lot more prettied up than the sexy scruffy little man in the shots i was emailed days ago, was still hot. i could have jumped him right there in the kitchen, unfortunately the pornographer had other ideas

the website was not up and running yet so they were still fleshing out a few ideas on how it would run. one idea was the interview process. corbin fisher, randy blue and that creepy old dude who sucks off every muscle guy he can find while winking into the camera all do the meet-and-greet thing. for some, it's terribly dull. but if their model becomes the next big name in porn they can milk the guts out of all the footage they have

"now i'm just going to get you both on the couch and ask you some questions." 

the mere notion of an interview bored the tits off me so i slumped on the sofa like some half eaten octopus. my remaining four limbs, arms over the back of the sofa and legs spread wide, ready for some old school japanime tentacle porn. 

"take your arm down. i want it to look like you've never met before. i don't want you to look comfortable with each other…"

and this is where i died. 

we were getting familiar. too familiar. you talk too much. i don't want to get to know you. nothing personal, but let me just see you as a peice of meat, we can have tea and scones after i hatefuck the shit out of you.

it's such a bore
gets me really sore
i don't need this fucking world

the 10 minute interview process that went from name (lies) and occupation (more lies) to favourite sexual positions (more lies. mostly exaggeration). my disinterest grew as the tedious interview process groaned slowly onward. my answers ever more self-righteous and smug as a Mumford and Sons lyric desperate not to sound christian. this dragged out to almost on hour. by the time we got to word association, i was infuriated. glaring down the barrel of the camera grunting monosyllabic answers (if any answer at all). 

i had some warning this porn shoot might be a bad idea. the producers' previous website was not good. actually, it was quite horrid. they had shot some men i know from around Sydney, very hot men, and filmed them with no thought for lighting, lenses, framing or indeed any of the  basic principles of photography. they managed to dwarf these hot men into hideously deformed sex badgers wanking their midgetted cocks for no ones pleasure other than the cruel bastard out to publicly humiliate them on a site designed on MSPaint

to tread past further warning to this bad decision, the Elk had shot a scene for them many years ago and it didn't work out for him either. once he met the other model and heard him speak all attraction was gone. when he opened his mouth a purse fell out, the Elk's erection falling to the floor along with it. 

still, i charged forward. forward to death. the only joy had was snarling at anybody watching this clip hoping they would recognise my Johnny The Homicidal Maniac t-shirt

shirts off. some stills. 

we moved the shoot to a spare bedroom. it was a small room, only slightly larger than the double bed and stained pine side table it contained. it that had all the sexual chemistry of a disused highway Motor Inn, probably less so, because all the effort that went in to gay-ing up of the decor barely masked an odour suggesting Grandma just died in here. i shut my eyes and we continued to grope and paw each other

"i want to be looking up at you," the pornographer said, "get up on the bed."

with barely one foot each on the bed we nearly tumbled off. this was no bed. it was a trampoline with a cheap quilt. we managed to get back on top but it was obvious by my dwindling erection that this just didn't work. if i enjoyed sex with young children then maybe fucking on a giant jumping castle might have kept my cock throbbing hard, unfortunately all effort was diverted to our quivering calf muscles desperately struggling to keep us upright. even with my occasional interest in plushie porn, fucking on top of a giant Doogal is not my idea of raunch

to make the scene even more worserer, it was 50 million degrees in the room. and i'm talking celsius. pilled up with the handfuls of viagra, i was like burning up in the sun. 

yes, i'm a princess!

yes i'm a fucking delicate snowflake! 

i will wilt and wilt i did. i was going to feint.

i prayed for it to end. so many times i was about to shoot out an arm to stop me from collapsing. luckily i didn't for i would have punched a hole through the horridly inoffensive nondescript mass produced painting of a sunset hanging on the wall, or tangle an arm in the venetian blind or worse have us both topple through the sliding mirrored doors of the wardrobe. similar to visions of the opening kill in Suspiria i imagined footage of two hookers sliced to pieces with shattered glass would guarantee years memberships if not spawned some great gifs on necrophile tumblers

"fuck this" and i lays both down. now comfortable, perfectly, no longer under direction, but it was too late. for every 5 minutes of fluffing myself, i was granted 30 seconds of boner. sadly, not enough to fuck his hot arse, not enough to string a decent scene together. the viagra didn't help. a cockring didn't help. even eating his meaty hairy arse didn't help. and it was a hot arse

i looked down at my cock, all sweaty, shrivelled and stubborn. pleading with him as he chose to hide. he had gone all Linda Evangelista on me, "we don't get out of bed for less than $10,000 a day" he winked up at me through that fleshy burqa of foreskin. well, we were barely making a 50th of that, so i had no hope in convincing him that this will benefit us both. we both knew yesterday i earned ten times what i will earn today from this shoot, and in roughly the same amount of time too

did i mention i was the top? no? so not being able to follow through with all the comments i made earlier about drowning the other model headfirst in my cum like a sack of kittens in high tide were made all the more embarrassing with how arrogantly i threatened

the other model blew his load spectacularly. gagged with every breath. he did a smashing job. it was just a shame i couldn't smash his hole. the pornographer too is not to blame. the way they wanted to shoot the scene just isn't how i work. plus i'd had been working like a muthafukka for weeks now, i had an apartment to empty in 48 hours, i had a country to leave, friends to say goodbye too and i was sure as hell missing the Elk

excuses aside, i willingly charged forward to my own death in the porn industry. wait? what porn industry? this is Australia. there is no fucking porn industry and this is for a site that still isn't online after years of shooting content. 

so what do i care? well, really, i don't. in 48 hours i will on a plane to another country. another hemisphere. woohoo! screw you guys i'm fucking out of here!

i don't need this fucking world!
i don't need this fucking world!!!