About two years ago I booked a girl named Aiden to come fuck BOZ The Animal for Blacks on Blondes. It was a simple boy-girl scene, and, to tell you the truth, after I saw Aiden in her make-up I wished it was something more.

Let me back up: when porn starlets walk around in public, they don’t look like they do in set. Sure, most of them are hot, some are cute…and some look like ass. When Aiden showed up at my studio, she didn’t look like ass…but she sure wasn’t hot.

When Aiden walked out of my make-up room, she was Smoking Fuckin’ Hot. There’s a reason The Producer spends $350 a day on make-up artists…and I think we can all agree it’s money well spent.

Anyway, I stood there, in awe, admiring Aiden’s beauty and wishing I had booked (at least) a basketball team of black dudes to pound the shit out of her. Then I stood there and thought how can I make this scene hotter than it’s already gonna be? I mean I got Boz The Animal and his 13 incher…and I got a smoking hot blonde teen…what would really complete the scene?

How about the smokin’ hot teen’s hubby?

I saw this dude in my green room, right before we were walking on set, and I asked Aiden, “um…who’s that honey?”

“That’s my husband,” Aiden said.

“Really. Ever think getting married at 19 is kinda young?” I asked.

I asked her not because I gave a shit what the girl thought about 19 year olds getting married…I asked her as a segue into my next question: “Do you think Hubby would sit on set and watch you fuck BOZ?”

I know I kinda winced when I asked, cause I had no idea if anyone – Aiden or Hubby – would get offended by my question, and I quickly added, “I’ll pay him a hundred bucks to just sit there. It’s called being a cuckold.”

“Oh! Um…ok. Let me ask him!” This seemed to perk her up a bit, and once we got on set, it really got her going.

I’ll skip to the interesting part: Aiden loved BOZ’s giant black meat. I mean she really loved it. I mean she really, really loved it. I mean she loved it more than just about anyone I’ve ever seen love a big black dick, and I’ve seen a lot of girls digging on black dick. She loved BOZ’s dick so much that, before long, BOZ’s big black dick was whiter than mine.

Pussy cum white.

Creamy white.

I’ve seen some creamed black dicks in my day – trust me. Between 150 (or so) Spring Thomas scenes, and another 200 (or so) Blacks On Blondes scenes, as well as some Spunkmouth interracial scenes under my belt, well…like I said, I’ve seen some creamy black dicks.

But nothing like this. As my literary hero RP McMurphy once said, BOZ made Aiden “light up like a pinball machine and pay off in silver dollars.”

I mean it was so bad I felt bad for hubby…with her eyes rolling up into the back of her head and all. And after you join Blacks on Blondes and look at hubby’s face, you’ll see what I mean. Cause deep down inside, Hubby knew he had never made Aiden feel like the way she was feeling that day…and he probably never would.

I say probably cause who knows?

About six months after I shot that scene, I ran into Aiden signing at a booth at AVN’s. We chatted it up a bit, and I asked her about Hubby.

“Oh, we’re finished. I’m divorcing him.”

I bit my lip, wondering if the BOZ scene had anything at all to do with it. We chatted it up a little while longer: about the business, our lives, and maybe working together again – but not a thing more about Hubby. Then I gave her a hug, and she gave me a small peck on the cheek; we said our goodbyes, and I walked away.

I never saw Aiden again.

I was on the phone with Jimmy H. yesterday, and he was complaining about a porn girl…again. All of the cameramen complain about them – including me.

Turns out The Porno Whore Jimmy H. took out to dinner after their shoot ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, had the table manners of a Neanderthal, then topped it off with expensive drinks and two deserts, which she ate with her hands.

“And why would any of this surprise you?” I asked him. “She ordered the most expensive thing on the menu simply because she could…and she drank like a fish cause they’re all alcoholics…and she ate the steak & lobster and the deserts with her hands cause she didn’t have someone growing up to show her how to act like a lady.”

Jimmy H. groaned some more.

“Dude, if I held my knife or fork incorrectly while cutting my steak, my dad knocked the shit out of me right there at the table. Do you think she even had a dad?”

“What’s worse,” Jimmy retorted. “Having a dad who knocked you around cause you didn’t hold your fork right…or having no dad at all.”

“The latter, of course.”

Why all this talk about proper manners at the dinner table?

Why all the talk about dads?

I’ll admit I digressed on the dad thing, but I have to tell you about the time we were living in Dogfart’s Secret Mansion a few years ago, and after shooting Fionna Cheeks – once for Blacks on Blondes, as well as taking her to the secret gloryhole – we took her out to dinner. It was such a blast! The whole crew was there: Dogfart, myself, S.S., Justin Timberlakefeelsyourpain, Fionna, The Producer, and even Spring Thomas! Talk about a crew!!

I’ll get to the point: someone dared Fionna to blow the waiter. In the middle of the restaurant. And she took the dare, and it went down.

Well, that’s kinda stretching the truth, only cause were weren’t sitting in the middle of the restaurant. We were huddled over in a far corner, and not everyone in the place could see us. But some could. And Fionna took the dare, and the waiter came over, and he was a young dude – the struggling actor type – and we told him about The Dare, and he looked at us in disbelief, and he looked at Fionna, who was, by now, unzipping his fly, and sure enough…you guessed it.

The waiter was getting blown. In the restaurant. Right in front of the place. A picture actually exists. I think Spring still has it. I wish I did. I know I had it for a while – stuck to my refrigerator with a magnet.

And to think a porn whore eating Surf & Turf with her hands was bad behavior.

We Smut Peddlers have our own national conventions…have had them, for a handful of years. Our conventions aren’t any different than yours: we meet, we try and make deals, we drink, we drink more, and drink more, and then we behave badly.

Like I said, our conventions are no different than yours.

Well, except when a spiff like hanging out at Hef’s house is included. Hef’s pad – The Mansion. The babes. The blondes. The PJ’s and pipe. The Grotto. It’s part of American Folklore now, isn’t it? And I get a shot to experience it…well, not in its fullest (we couldn’t actually go inside the place), but a little piece is better than no piece, right?

We were bussed from the convention hotel to Hef’s Crib, and I sat with the crew from My Daughter’s Fuckin’ A Niggah…including my Main Most Man, Shane Diesel. A great crew, and sure, there’s a rivarly between them and Blacks On Blondes, but it’s a friendly one, and personally I think Blacks On Blondes rules all…but that’s a biased opinion, of course.

Shane and I reminisced. I can’t shoot him anymore, and that sucks, but it’s been good for him, and that’s a great thing. We talked the scenes we worked on together, like when Shane Diesel and Spring Thomas fucked at that fancy hotel, or when Shane Diesel and his pal fucked Spring Thomas, or the very first time Spring Thomas and Shane Diesel fucked…shit like that.

I asked Shane, “These porno chicks are nuts, aren’t they bro?”

“Yea man. Too much too soon,” he replied. “It makes them that way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Too much attention, too much money, and too much sex…all way too fast,” Shane said.

I couldn’t agree more. “It makes them implode.”

Shane nodded. “That’s a good way to put it,” he said.

Implode.

We pulled up to The Mansion, and it’s pretty much what you’d think it is…or what you’ve seen on TV. Still, there’s something in the air about that place…that folklore I mentioned earlier. There were tons of nude chicks, too. And tons of chicks in skimpy lingerie, as it was a PJ / Lingerie Party, so I fit right in, wearing my flannel PJ’s. And while everyone was gawking at the girls, I was gawking at the architecture of the place, and the grounds, and the grotto…and while people were dancing to Too Short, I was walking the grounds, checking out the monkeys, and the exotic birds, and the landscape.

And it was about that time I caught a couple fucking in the front yard. It was kinda funny, watching the mad scramble for their clothes, and it was kinda funny when the dude – all nervous and shit – handed me his business card and introduced himself (he works for an industry rag) and the girl – all guilty and giggling – introduced herself (she’s a porn whore) and I laughed again and said, “pleased to meet you both” and as I was walking away I told the girl, “maybe we can work together in the future” and she said, “I’m an Adam and Eve girl! You can’t hire me!”

“Uh-huh,” I said, looking up at that fabulous home.

I gotta tell you, the caged animals kinda bummed me out. I’m not a tree hugger, or an animal rights dude…still, those monkeys aren’t happy.

The birds aren’t, either.

I wonder if Hef is.