In the sexual blogosphere (blogosphere -- is that not the most douche-moustachey word in existence? but, I digress), you'll find no shortage of primers on the ABCs of sex -- anal sex, blowjobs, cunt-licking. Now, this is all well and good. Tristan Taormino has made a helluva career as "The Ass Whisperer", for instance, and I'm never going to say that knowledge ain't power (in bed, if this were a Chinese fortune cookie!) More people should be comfortable about what gets them off, and who am I to discredit lusty learnin'? I mean, really?

Now, with that disclaimer out of the way, I'll say this: I'm not going to write any "primers". Ever.


I'm seriously.

Not kidding.

I might write about ettiquette, sure. Ten minutes in the streets of Philadelphia renders anyone into Miss Manners' best PR rep. But sex info schpiels are now trite -- covered extensively, eloquently, and just down-right sexily by Tristan, by Chelsea Girl, by Violet Blue... heck, you get the picture. And I, my readers, desire anything but trite. Trite is for Hallmark cards, coffee house poetry slams, and late-night viewings of Elimidate. And as much as I love watching Tiffany and La Fonda fight over an XY-chromosome'd stranger in your local Red Lobster, methinks that's no pretense for a good blog.

So I'll tell you a story. No, it's probably not original. What is? And it's not new -- this happened over three months ago. (In Internet time, that's about the Triassic period. ) But it's fun, and it's unique, and it involves hot tattoo-ed girls and a room filled with butt plugs and the words "fuck house". So why not?

Three months ago, I visited my first porn shoot. Yup, you heard me. Porn! Skin flicks! Stag films! As that sitcom star famously said, it was real, and it was damn spectacular.

Invited by a good friend who was working on the project, I decided to spend the weekend in NYC during the hot July summer to see what this porno business was all about. It was a season of firsts -- this was Audacia Ray's, or the Internet's own waking vixen, first voyeur into celluloid voyeurism. The film was titled Bi Apple -- and it was, about... well, do I really need to spell it out for you? Okay, I will: according to the PR, Bi Apple "tells the story of a sex researcher and her experiences in a down & dirty, freaky & groovy "fuckhouse" in New York City". And contrary to what some would have you to believe, it wasn't the bed of depravity, drugs, and sin that your favorite after-school special told you about. In reality, it was more like... summer camp. Except without the lanyards.

There's so much I could describe. However, I thought it would be more fun to dispel myths (misconceptions that even I, Ms. Sex Obsessed, harbored) about a "typical" porn shoot. (Granted, Audacia's an indie gal, so I can't make any normative claims, but still.) Admit it -- you've probably wondered what happens. "Do the stars fuck in front of a room of drooling cameramen and men sitting on overstuffed chaise longues?" you may ask. "Is it true that everyone's on crack? And how exactly do they get the money shot, anyway?" (OK, so maybe I can't answer that last question.)

Here goes:

Consider yourself informed. And with that, it's time to retire -- my English bulkpack, and insomnia, beckon.

- posted Oct 8, 02:26 in just-life sex-sex-sex


  1. Mikey Mongol, Oct 9, 11:45:

    Wow. Sounds like a really generous friend that invited you along to the shoot. =)

  2. idonothing, Nov 3, 17:36:

    fluffers are real but not for your standard porn set. in gang bang series they use fluffers. i gleamed this bit of knowledge from my days lsitening to howard stern

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