Societal Satire in Shorts
Trireme, Two Coxswains, and Another Motorboat
S. G. Lacey
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Trireme:
The key to being a successful artist is novelty. In a sea of sameness, it’s important to come up with unique multimedia content. This sentiment is especially critical in my newly selected industry. Pornography.
It’s been a long and windy road to this potential tipping point in my career. At just 35 years old, it already feels like I’ve spent a lifetime in the entertainment business. College at one of the nation’s preeminent film schools. A brief stint trying my hand as an actor. Bouncing around between several production companies, varying in both role and genre.
But my heart, and skill set, have always felt more comfortable behind the camera, as opposed to in front of it. My thespian skills just aren’t up to snuff for relevance in the incredibly competitive Los Angeles talent pool. Thus, other methods have become necessary to pay the bills.
My last gig was penning commercials for a conglomerate with a large portfolio of national food brands. It was a short stint, with few rewarding attributes, aside from the prevalence of free snacks at corporate headquarters. There are only so many humorous skits involving goofy cereal mascots and colorful candy varieties that one human can conceive.
In my limited experience, simply writing the content to be executed ends up with key parts being poorly cast, important scenes being shot wrong, and the entire plot goals being lost in translation.
Now, in my new role, I have complete ownership over the finished product, from storyboarding, to filming, to directing, to editing. I can even sub in as an actor. However, the current piece we’re executing doesn’t fit my performer proficiency. There are professionals, many older than myself, who have dedicated their entire life to this niche category.
I’m working on a feature length film, which in the porn industry means just 45 minutes of action, using the most vigorous definition of this term. Allowing sufficient time for storytelling, a classy term for foreplay, I’ve landed on a trio of scenes for this flick.
The first offering is a must in any adult film worth its salt. The orgy. On a tight budget, I can’t afford a large collection of cast members. Thus, I quickly settled on a quartet, one sexy lady servicing three willing and able males. Four paychecks for a single shot is ambitious, but necessary.
There are only a few ways which such group situation usually plays out, at least in the realm of curated sex scenes staged on film sets. Real life is a completely different animal, which I have no knowledge of, as a heterosexual, monogamous, married male.
Most common, based on my extensive internet viewing research, is a slight white cheerleader with a trio of huge black guys. But I’m an artist. Therefore, I need to mix up this common scenario, while still adhering to the elements which make this skit a staple of the porn industry.
I spent an entire afternoon recently brainstorming activities where short skirts are common. Such is the dedication I’m determine to apply to this new business venture.
As this is a key element of the general appeal, I want to maintain this attire aesthetic, while adding a novel twist. Thus, high school uniforms, tennis players, golfers, and the aforementioned cheerleaders, were all quickly eliminated. What other scenarios use miniskirts?
This character selection is critical as in also dictates the scene setting. After several hours of web searching, and several bottles of light beer, I finally landed upon an untapped market. In the most literal sense of the word. Amusingly, the epiphany occurred when I took a quick break from more formal research to do some online shopping for my wife’s upcoming birthday.
How did I not come up with this simple scheme earlier? Why not use a common setting where there are all sorts of skimpy dresses and preppy outfits. With a private room, that almost always has a full-length mirror.
What adolescent hasn’t fantasized about hooking up in the changing room at the local mall. At least as a horny male, in my teenage years, this was a frequent thought experiment. Which unfortunately never planned out.
I’m quickly learning, through my thorough market landscaping, that the most compelling smut leverages innate human desires and wants. Especially alluring are those which were sparked in the young, formative years.
A little voyeurism. All manner of clothing options. A cheap set to construct. All types of folks comingling in one space. A risqué opportunity while shopping.
A few more alcoholic beverages later, my stimulated mind was convinced I’d landed on the perfect plotline, and I commenced to write most of the script that very night. Half drunk is the best way to get the creative juices flowing.
One problem finally solved, my next challenge immediately materialized. Who are the young lads I should select to join this important scene? What male assortment allows me to branch out from the traditional mix of hulking African men, endowed on many levels.
In this era of inclusivity and equal opportunity, I decided that embracing diversity can provide me with a unique marketing strategy, and valuable plot line enhancement.
Interviewing and hiring in the porn industry turns out to be both incredibly simple, and infinitely complex. Some actors and actresses show up to the makeshift conference room office essentially naked, allowing their physique to be easily assessed. Which is not exactly a comfortable scenario for my squeamish, albeit not entirely prude, disposition.
As I quickly find out, diversity abounds, not just in ethnicity, but also with regards to a key physical metric. Penis size. Having recruited a Japanese, a German, and an Indian, I figured bodily disparities would be inevitable. Hair color, musculature, skin tone, height, etc. All providing valuable additions to my creative palette.
The more I research the adult film industry, the more I realize the how important certain choice elements of the human physique are. For men, the abs, ass, and groin are articles of persistent interest. In this regard, I’ve amassed breadth in each category with my trio of actors. There’s something for everyone in this erotic scene. Or nothing for anyone.
Fortunately, my secretary purchased a wide range of condoms. This seems like an essential element of the porn business in my mind, as a novice, who has only had a few sexual partners over my entire life. In this scene, many of the accommodating condoms end up getting used, but not for the obvious reasons I anticipated.
Stopping impregnation. The opposing participant in the mating process has that handled. Enhanced enjoyment. This is a job, not a pleasure activity. Avoiding disease transport. Everyone here is tested, as confirmed on their resumé paperwork.
May as well go raw dog at this point. Apparently not, with this classy crew.
These boys each try on several stretchy hats before making their final selection. Despite being offered all manner of colors and thicknesses, the decision comes down to a single factor. A tight fit, which restricts blood flow, thereby extending performance. Stamina is a key element of proficiency for the task they’re being asked to execute.
Watching this band of monkeys fish through the plastic bowl, sampling different offerings, I’m both appalled and intrigued. Based on the banter during this awkward task, these men are deciding to use penal shields because of sharing, rather than due to concern for the lady. This vocation, and its participants, are truly odd.
My original sketch for the scene, double penetration, quickly turns out to be off the table. And not due to resistance from my female star, who is clearly a true professional. Somehow, I’ve end up with a trio of germophobic men, based on the condom conversation which just played out.
How does a porn star end up with sanitation standards? And what male is going to turn down anal sex, especially with the help of a thick latex protective glove.
All this condom usage creates another unanticipated problem. There’s a staple of most pornos, the climax, both metaphorically, and in reality. The cum shot. With all three of my leading members fully suited up, I’m not going to get the finale footage I was hoping for.
This challenge will require me to use some stock video material. My uniqueness of actor selection may present challenges here, considering diversity in erect size, skin tone, pubic hair style, and circumcision status, for my trio of characters. I’ll need to delve deep in the purchasable vaults of sultry sex shots.
Again, I can’t blame this audible on my leading lady. As she’s brought up repeatedly, this lass is fixed, and up for anything which will help the film, and her career, succeed.
I’m definitely stretching this plot with the young gal who’s the star of the scene. This “teenager” is actually 28, according to her work papers. Using permitted and approved participants is more expensive, but avoids any legal issues. As a new entrant to the industry, I’m playing it safe, on many levels.
As it turns out, there’s only so much control I have over the proceedings. Considering the inherent intimacy involved in sexual activity, participant chemistry trumps preconceived choreography. Audibling from my original collaborative plot, it’s determined the salacious shared act will be performed in series.
The only element left to determine is the sequence of entry. It would be demeaning to go by increasing dick size, but might make sense for the participating gal. However, she seems indifferent to the proceedings, thus an alternate, random, ranking scheme is selected.
The crazy guys play rock-paper-scissors to determine the order. Boys will be boys.
Line-up determined, the action goes off without a hitch. At least for the first two players. Then, it’s time for a quick wardrobe change, and some freshening up, before the third hitter steps up to the plate.
As attested to by my own perpetually shabby look, having a curated image isn’t one of my specialties. As a result, I’ve been forced to enlist the services of qualified make-up artists for this venture.
There’s no shortage of such tradespeople in the San Fernando Valley of Southern California, the region where a vast majority of pornographic material is produced. Many of these workers have made the transition from the formal entertainment realm in Hollywood, to the seedier side of the ledger, much of which happens discretely in the foothills north of downtown Los Angeles.
There are several reasons for such a career transition. Opportunity for more income, often under the table, in every sense of the work. Banishment from traditional film projects, due to various employee transgressions. Interest in branching out artistically, like myself, hoping to escape the commonly held entertainment industry norms. Or simply the magnetic allure, which working in the sex trade provides.
I watch as my duo of beauticians, a man and a woman, both of whom I’ve determined are completely fabulous, move onto the set. Our lead actress is sweating profusely, and borderline disheveled, on account of the recent vigorous activity.
The 10 minutes of useful footage which I’ve hopefully captured thus far has taken over a half hour to document. There will be lots of editing, splicing, and remastering required on this product. With a cleaned bodily palette for the main minx midstream, I’ll be able to mix and match scenes as needed to create a compelling overall plot.
I watch as the touch-up process proceeds. I never realized how many areas of the body make-up can be used on. Red marks on pale skin disappear. Moist streaks on flushed cheeks are wiped away. Hair, lots up top, and minimal down low, is put back into place appropriately. There’s even a second clean pair of matching bra and panties to reset the timeline.
The final participant of the trio, the Japanese man, while small in stature, turns out to be the most vigorous of the bunch. I’m not sure if it’s acting, or if the entwined duo are actually enjoying themselves, as they roll around together: on the thick carpet, over the wooden bench, against the glass mirror. As long as the footage looks compelling and authentic, I’m happy.
6 discrete positions, only half of which I’m even tangentially familiar with, and 2 female organisms, an occurrence I’m observing in person for the first time, later, I realize our rental space time in running down.
Content with the content for the day, I yell “Cut!”, the universal sign for everyone on set to take a break. There’s a lot of editing needed on this recent footage, but I should be able to cobble together a compelling 15-minute segment.
As the activity winds down, I can’t help but follow the movements of the acting cohort. If I was naked and exposed, I would cloth myself, and cleanse myself, as quickly as possible. However, this quartet seems completely indifferent to the fact that they’re nude, and have just committed sexual acts which many is society would shun.
This ragtag bunch wanders slowly to the side of the small space, gentlemen allowing the lady to walk in front of them. On the way, the woman grabs a sheer robe, which doesn’t hide much, and the guys pick up a few tiny towels, which offer up only menial coverage. Apparently, at this point, the group is fully acquainted, in more ways than one.
I spend a few minutes with coordinating with the film crew, making sure the digital footage in being uploaded to the cloud, so I can access it from my command center, i.e., a cheap hotel room nearby. Satisfied that all is well, I turn to take my leave.
The studio has cleared out, aside from the sanitation staff which is a staple of any film set, especially one on which a large quantity of bodily fluids are swapped. Aside from these folks, there’s only a few remaining individuals. The quartet of thespians.
They’ve moved to the corner of the room, where a makeshift kitchen has been established. It turns out the various unions in the film industry have stringent requirements around food service, which are substantially cutting into my menial budget for this production.
Seated in a tight ring, on flimsy folding chairs, around an even more rickety card table, the motley group is sipping on coffee, with a plate of donuts between them. This could be conversing volunteers at a PTA meeting. Or law enforcement personnel aligning to begin their day. Maybe even tournament night at the local bridge club.
Except for the wardrobe selection, and chosen topics of conversation.
Even from my distant vantage point, I’m able to spot an exposed nipple and stray testicle amongst this hodgepodge quorum. Unable to turn away, I watch in a mix of horror and amusement, as the discussion plays out. Though lurking in the shadows, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the nature of the chat.
The guy from India, the tallest and skinniest of the males, picks up powdered sugar donut, and holds it up in front of the group, executing a length diatribe, which is unintelligible from my position.
The rapid dialogue is capped by a guttural rejoinder from the sturdy German, who signifies his approval by sticking his girthy thumb up through the accommodating hole in the horizontally oriented dessert. The universal sign of approval.
Which is quickly disrupted by the lone French female, who quickly reaches in and breaks off a dense chunk of the doughy orb. This act is apparently accompanied by a terse statement, which causes the entire circle to break into uncontrollable laughter.
These are just normal people, unwinding after a long and productive job effort. For all I know, the muted conversation is about a misbehaving kid at home, or travel plans for the weekend. Just another day at the office. Albeit, an interesting one.
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Two Coxswains:
This set looks like a doctor’s office. Bright and sterile, with lots of gloss white paint, and shiny polished metal. This aesthetic is a far cry from the scenes which will flank this classy cinematic offering I’m currently creating. And there won’t be any flanking in this scene. We’re squarely focused around a simple one-on-one operation.
Looking over the shoulder of my lead camera operator, a heavyset lady in her early 60’s, I survey the entire presentation, with the discerning eye of an accomplished director. At least in a manner which I feel such a professional of the film industry would analyze the situation. I’m still a novice in this privileged role of ultimate responsibility.
In the middle of the room are a pair of gentlemen, both in their early 30’s. Each is clad in well-tailored attire that perfectly fits their disparate physiques: the stocky character sporting light grey, the other rail thin participant donning navy blue.
Besides the color of the outfits, the cut and trimmings are also unique, and easily identifiable to the viewer. Clearly a sous chef, and an airplane steward, are engaged in a heated conversation. For now.
Men in uniform offer up nearly unlimited opportunity for foreplay. Plus, there’s elements of authority and formality which can be incorporated into the pending plot.
What’s amazing is how long it took this pair of actors to get dressed, just so they can take their clothes off. Based on my personal porn viewing, clothing is disposable and distracting. It seems like the two thespians selected for this scene have a different prerogative. They are divas, in every sense of the word.
Granted, my selection of a costume-themed story didn’t help. There are so many classy wardrobe professions that I couldn’t restrict myself to just one employment category.
Everyone knows the classic uniformed laborers in society. Firefighters. Pilots. Waitresses. Police Officers. All valid options. And all basic outfits which can be easily purchased at the local thrift store, then rendered believable through a few simple embellishments.
A single, common, job setting is boring and predictable. The key for modernization is to combine multiple tasks. What happens when an airline steward reloads their food and beverages resources before the next flight? I have no idea, but am not shy about taking creative liberties with this envisioned scenario.
There’s no way this meager production can afford to rent out the entire tarmac. Fortunately, this scheme requires a much smaller footprint. For my unique storyline, we don’t need to be in the air, have any actual plane passengers, or execute any of those annoying loudspeaker safety warnings.
Though there’s some great punny dialogue in those diatribes which could be relevant to the action which is about to play out.
It took me a while to locate an appropriate set for this specific scene. I definitely couldn’t afford to construct an actual kitchen on my slender budget. Thus, I needed to find galley facility which was already built out. And, one that would have me, and my sketchy minions.
Apparently, swapping of bodily fluids in a space dedicated to food preparation is frowned upon by the California health department. Imagine that.
Fortunately, my perpetual resourcefulness allowed me to come up with an alternate venue. An operation which is meticulously cleaned daily with powerful hoses. The slaughterhouse barn at a cattle ranch an hour out of town, deep in the Inland Empire desert environ east of Los Angeles. I couldn’t help but smirk as I drummed up a few prime meat jokes in my mind while signing the affordable rental contract.
Granted, this farm setting isn’t very appealing from an odor standpoint, meadow grass and steaming manure combining into a ripe cocktail which only nature itself could serve up. Fortunately, smell isn’t transmitted over video.
The space we procured is pretty rough, and the timeline pretty tight. As this functional ranch is a 24-7 operation, our access is limited to a 6-hour window on Sunday afternoon, once the day crew finishes up their butchering, and before the Monday morning contingent arrives, even before the sun is up. Agricultural operations like this run on one hell of a tough schedule.
Having a bunch of horny farmers, an inherently masculine profession, is the last thing I need leering around my porn production. While this scene is male dominated, it’s hard to predict the preferences of anyone, let alone those who live off the land in relative isolation.
That’s why I’m now huddled in this barn with an amalgam of individuals in various states of dress and disrepair. It’s hot and smelly in here. But I need to stay focused, as I’m in charge of this circus.
After completing casting, I waffled on which performer should play which role in the novella script I’d written. Funds dictated that I couldn’t afford actors with classic male beauty traits: toned abs, chiseled facial structure, muscular arms, wavy locks of hair. As such, I ended up with the runts of the litter. At least their requested salaries were acceptable.
My recruited duo, while not much to look at, can make up for their aesthetic shortcomings through the passion that they exude for the camera. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. Now is the moment of truth. Time to find out these chap’s true mettle.
As part of my entry into this new adult film segment, I’ve been doing a lot of background research over the past few months. Call it dedicated commitment to the task at hand.
One of the clearest findings from the hours of smut I reviewed, mostly late night and liquored up, is that I’m a steadfast heterosexual. Which makes this current scene the trickiest for me to execute with tact and professionalism.
I know it’s risky to incorporate a homosexual male episode into my debut release, as this offering caters to a particular viewership. However, as a new entrant into the lude landscape, I’m trying to cast as wide a net as possible. Porn viewers typically only consume a few minutes of footage at each sitting, for obvious reasons. Thus, by providing a diversity of scenarios, I’m hoping to offer up something for everyone. Hope being the operative word, considering I really have no idea what I’m doing.
I’m very naïve in the ways and wants of gay men. As a result, my direction for this act ended up being more of a general layout as opposed to a detailed script. In fact, while the initial written lines are assigned based on costume-implied profession, I didn’t even assign a specific actor to each physical role after that introductory dialogue.
I have no idea what predilections and preferences this pair of disparate males possess. I trust them to absorb the cinematic intent, then delegate accordingly. Considering the intimacy of their pending interaction, this pair will need to be fully aligned. In more ways than one.
Leveraging my dedicated internet analysis, I’ve written a tame plot outline, with lots of frisky foreplay, while limiting the hardcore elements associated with many gay male film offerings. However, my skeleton story leaves plenty of room for improvisation, a fact which my actors quickly grasp onto, and take advantage of, in the most literal sense of the phrase.
Rather than becoming aggravated at this departure from my penned masterpiece, I embrace such improvisation. There was no way I could have come up with this compelling action, even in my most creative, weed-inspired, state. In addition to the mundane, generally comedic, foodstuff props provided, the dynamic duo takes advantage of all the elements provided by this small stage.
Obviously, we can’t do any actual meal preparation here in the barn. The stovetop we wheeled in isn’t even hooked up, the chest freezer is already packed with assorted cuts of beef, and the sink in the butcher’s area dispenses some brown tinted water which is debatably potable.
Still, I won’t let the challenge of not being in an actual functional cookery setting limit my creativity.
There’s a preponderance of phallic foods which can be incorporated in this screenplay. The male genitalia are mimicked in various forms throughout the culinary landscape. Bananas. Grapes. Sausages. Meatballs. Cucumbers. Tomatoes.
While some of these items are infeasible for an actual airline service ghost kitchen environment, it hasn’t stopped me from incorporating such inspirational gold into the mix. Some amount of creative license is allowed in this multimedia format.
Numerous Hollywood comedy blockbusters have used similar sexual inuendo gimmicks with great success. If it works for these entertainment titans, then it’s definitely an acceptable ploy for me to utilize.
My collection of culinary artifacts, mostly fruits and vegetables, with a few meats, and even a cooking utensil or two, are all housed in a large rolling cooler positioned in the corner of the room. I’ve taken my leading lads through this arsenal, and am allowing them to use their natural creativity as the plot progresses.
As opposed to the rest of the smorgasbord actors and actresses I selected for this film, this duo of dudes requires almost no make-up or alterations. Muscular, sort of, tan, in spots, and essentially devoid of hair, both prematurely balding, these manly men are in physical character as soon as they walk into the room.
Dialogue clearly isn’t their specialty, but fortunately this simple story arc doesn’t require much personal communication. Just a bunch of physical contact. As it turns out, both halves of this duo are equally proficient at giving and receiving.
Fellatio is not one of my preferred modes of pleasure. Sure, no sane male is going to turn down a blow job. However, in my experience, these moments of relaxing joy come with an implied mandate to reciprocate. Muff diving seems like a lot of extra work, with minimal reward on my end of the ledger.
Fortunately, this pair of professional seems to have no issues sharing spit, semen, sweat, and God only knows what else.
My only regret as the compelling skit plays out is that the free-flowing action makes it impossible to catch key moments of interest. Again, I may need to incorporate some stock footage. However, the uniqueness of the actors, and their novel setting, will make any standard video, aside from tight close-ups, or very brief snippets, easy to spot as disjointed material. Which is a distinct no-no for porno aficionados.
Over the course of a few hours of vigorous activity, I start to realize that I need to provide more guidance to my minions moving forward. And certainly not because they lack inspiration. The unfortunate fact is that working on a tight budget, film staff, physical cameras, and digital memory capacity, are all severely limited.
While the grinding gyrations and sensual stroking of my actors doesn’t match the original artistic goal, I’m quite impressed with their tenacity. I doubt I’ll be known for this specific genera of pornography, or adult films in general, once my career really hits its stride, but at least I’m showing range within my first product offering.
Fittingly, the crowing of a rooster, no doubt a huge cock with bright orange plumage, begins just as another spirited flurry of flesh culminates. Sitting in this dank room with no windows, I have no idea if the sun is on the rise, but have no interest in overstaying our welcome. Drawing the ire of sturdy butchers with sharp knives, or being trampled by a herd of cattle who inevitably sense their impending doom, is not why I got into this industry.
Catching the gaze of my dynamic duo of dudes, who seem like they are about to launch into another roll in the hay, fortunately metaphorically as opposed to actually, I give both gentlemen a wink.
“Great work guys, that’s a wrap.”
Hopefully they don’t get the wrong impression from this terse statement, considering my heterosexual alignment, and their lack of any penile protection all shoot. Boys will be boys.
I’ve got some extensive editing to do, but this will certainly be one of the more novel porn scenes ever produced. Especially if context on the filming backstory is provided during the credits. Maybe there’s money to be made on a documentary of this entire absurd journey I’m currently embarked on.
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Motorboat:
Maybe I’m starting to hit my stride in this business. More likely, my recent productivity is because the subject of this culminating sexual offering hits incredibly close to home.
While fictional in concept, as the production plays out, I realize this fantasy has been lodged in my own mind for years, apparently stashed far enough back in the cranial folds that it couldn’t be accessed without specific motivation.
Apparently, the time is now, a few decades after the inspirational incident was cemented in my malleable memory banks. Or more aptly, mammary banks.
There are all sorts of ploys by which an ambitious man gains access to the home of a lonely wife, then gains access to her. The Viking pillager. The comely prince. The resourceful plumber. The daily postman. Time for the next generation to find their path of exploitation.
While most porn plots are predictable, I’m planning to be more creative, as I have throughout this entire crazy process. With just 15 years in the movie business, and 15 days as part of the adult film subculture, I’m just a rookie across the vast entertainment industry landscape. Hopefully, I can use naïve confidence to execute a modern twist on an ancient fable.
The demographics of pornography viewing are well researched. Certain common metrics dominate usership, from both a watching and purchasing standpoint. Young. White. Male.
A cohort I can relate to personally. Even though I’m starting to creep up in the age department. And now have a wife to consider with regards to my own consumption habits. Still, younger lads like my previous self are who I must appeal to, if this artistic work is going to be successful.
What does this particular demographic covet? What can they relate to?
Online gaming. Already overplayed in the anime genre. Living in their parent’s basement. Fake family fucking is all over the internet. Social media. This is a landscape of static selfies, textual memes, and video shorts, not full-length movies. Food delivery. Now there’s an opportunity which hasn’t been exploited.
And thus, a convoluted, yet common, plot was hatched in my mind. An energetic, pimple-faced, delivery boy bringing over lunch to a hungry, emotionally-stressed, mother of a newborn. A plausible scenario, which morphs into engaging erotica. Aided by a strong dose of the Oedipus complex.
Sure, the MILF moniker is quite common and popularized these days. But I’m putting a new spin on this classic tale.
This final film session is going much smoother than the prior two, which occurred over the past few weeks. I’d like to claim this is because I’m getting better at my new role. In reality, the simplicity of the plot, and organic engagement of the thespian duo, lets the screenplay progress on its own naturally, without any imposition from me, or my meager staff.
A rusty car pulls up to the curb in a street-lined suburban neighborhood. A nondescript boy gets out, grabs a small bag from the front seat, then passes through the hedgerow gate. The doorbell jingles on a poured concrete stoop lined with thriving plants. The entrance to the dwelling opens slowly, and the action begins.
Of course, most of this preliminary material is stock footage, as we have limited production budget. I need to do conserve all my actor efforts, set resources, and film capacity, for the main event. Which is about to commence.
As the door swings wide, the camera zooms in on middle aged Latina woman. Her features are typical: dark hair, brown eyes, caramel skin. The outlier from a physical standpoint is lower down from her pleasant face, right at the center of mass.
A pair of massive, supple breasts. Which are highly visible and heavily accentuated by this woman’s wardrobe selection. A sheer dress of light yellow, with absolutely nothing underneath.
My chosen actress is a little older than I planned, but funds are running low. But she is a recent mother, just 6 months out from childbirth, offering up the perfect plumpness for this scene. Still, gravity is taking its toll on the body, maturity and mass combining in a saggy combination. Fortunately, there are cinematography tricks to solve this minor aesthetic issue.
Everyone, at least adult film connoisseurs, like liquid lubrication, and big breasts. However, topless shower and ocean scenes are played out, so I’ve been pressing to come up with another viable scenario. As it turns out, one presented itself naturally.
The propensity of lubricating liquids associated with food, especially of the fast casual variety. All manner of sauces, from clear to colorful, and slimy to sticky, are included in takeout orders, depending on the cuisine selected.
I stewed for days over what offering to use as the optimal delivery mechanism. I’ve been consuming way more restaurant-made, to-go, meals than usual during this recent illicit endeavor, on account of the repeated late nights, either on set, or editing footage.
Not exactly work I can take home with me, or bring up in casual conversation around the dinner table.
13 days into my life-altering project, with the second scene wrapping up, inspiration finally came. In the form of the sauce sleeves piling up on my bedside table at the hotel. Amongst the smorgasbord, one culinary type stood out.
Rectangular plastic packets with serrated ends for ease of opening, provided in multiple distinct colors. Bright yellow spicy mustard. Jet black salty soy. Translucent orange duck sauce. The obvious solution, both literally and figuratively, was right in front of me. The most ubiquitous takeout food going in California, and nationwide, these days. Americanized Chinese.
Now has come the time to see if this unique liquid arsenal works for the planned proceedings. It’s a risk, but novelty will hopefully be the reward. However, with no running water on set, and only wet wipes available to reset the repository, we may only get a few short shots at success. Before getting stuck in a rut. Or crevasse.
Fortunately, there are a few fortuitous elements of my selected plot which didn’t come into play until the initial, organic, on-set engagement. That’s what happens when you select elite acting talent, and give them a vast runway to execute their craft.
The delivery boy interview process was one of my most focused and enlightening to date. Each time I make a hire within the adult film industry, it feels like I learn something new. Actually, that’s true with regards to every element of this new gig I’ve dove headfirst into.
Referencing the envision roles for the desired cinematography, I had a very clear visual regarding this important lead character. Youthful face. Clean shaven. Bright eyes.
Not exactly traits which narrow the field within the general public, or especially amongst the rarified Hollywood acting pool. However, I’m not striving for the perfection of alluring natural beauty. As my adult film composition thus far has clearly demonstrated willingness to stay from the norm.
After a half dozen candidates strode into my makeshift office, and were immediately dispensed for various reasons, a thin and gangly, pimple scared skin, messy red headed, clearly Irish roots, lad stumbled in. This goofy caricature could be anywhere from 13 to 30 years old; I’m hoping for closer to the latter, to avoid any legal issues in this highly regulated industry.
3 minutes of awkward conversation later, I was so struck by this individual’s uncanny mannerisms, which completely mimicked my envisioned artistic traits, that I stopped caring about his verbal answers. There aren’t many speaking parts in this role anyways. I just need a compelling face I can capture in slow motion and vivid detail.
Now, as I sit in my director’s chair, watching the proceedings play out, with one eye on the live action, and the other on the broad camera display, I know I made the right decision. As evidenced by the increasingly broad smile plastered on my own lips.
What I wouldn’t give to be a participant, as opposed to an observer, in the current set developments. I need to keep reminding myself that I’m the classy leader here. No doubt my facial expressions are betraying me.
Meanwhile, the chap in front of the camera is impressively unphased, almost to the point of being emotionally inert. I’ve found a consummate professional.
The vivid details framed by the zoomed lens are perfect. Suggestive. Sensual. Scintillating.
Quick flashes of random facial features include flushed cheeks, a pursed mouth, curly hair, a freckled forehead, wide eyes, and a prominent nose. All these pale elements are interacting with a shapely, much darker, clearly recognizable, portion of the human anatomy. Huge, bouncing, brown breasts.
The chromatic contrast works out exactly as I anticipated. Milky white on creamy toffee. Bright red raised bumps contacting near black small splotches. Bright red and auburn brown locks entwined. Not to mention the addition of various colorful sauces.
The scene plays out highlighting the innate elements which make men addicted to nipples since the first time they suckled on their mother’s supple teat. Boys will be boys. Mammalian instincts are clearly deeply rooted.
By the end of phase one, the kid’s flustered face is as red and rosy as his disheveled mop. Fortunately, he’s functional enough to move on to phase two. Dinner has been served, and it’s time for dessert. Needless to say, the delivery boy gets an excellent tip.
The charade playing out is so comical that I’m constantly struggling to not burst out in laughter. At the same time, the action between the pair of engaged combatants is incredibly erotic and arousing. At least to me. This is the first time I have struggled to separate my profession duties from my personal desires while on set.
This last scene is coming together much easier than the other portions of my first, full-length, feature film. Which will only have a running time covering three-quarters of an hour.
While all the jiggling and jostling is great, I have a few cinematic ploys to make this footage my own. While simultaneously solving some anatomical challenges which are inevitable when hiring a 48-year-old pregnant woman for a porno.
There’s all manner of video manipulation techniques which can be employed after the fact in this modern age. But why use sophisticated and costly post-processing, when a few simple on-site production tweaks can be made.
In the spur of the moment, on the last day of filming, I’ve decided to take advantage of the one of the most consistent forces on earth. Gravity.
The same relentless pull which has caused my aging Latina mother, in both reality and this revamped rendition, to require extra bra support, has turned out to work for us, as opposed to against us. Or more accurately them, as in the prominent pair.
Much of the action today was filmed with the lovely lady on her back, as opposed to standing. We even tried a 5-minute session with both parties upside down; this short duration was as long as the pair of combatants could last in such an awkward format.
The result turned out to be amazingly compelling visually, on several fronts. Apparently, sticky sauces also like to flow downhill.
Most importantly, whenever gravity was present, my recruited young chap did an excellent job of providing support for the hefty masses of flesh. With his face. He turned out to be a real trooper, making bold personal sacrifices in the pursuit of his craft, and this production as a whole.
For the first time ever throughout this entire adult film venture, we wrap, and wipe down, early. Impressively, I can’t envision any more scenarios which could be more compelling than what just transpired between a 20-ish year-old Irish boy and a 50-ish year-old Puerto Rican woman.
This operation has resulted in many firsts for me. My first time handling casting for all lead roles. My first time working with slow motion footage. My first time getting to pick the sound track music. My first time being in charge of my own production. My first time executing a live action adult film.
Now, I feel like a real cinematographer, although not a classy one. I’m committed to bring some new techniques to this staid industry. What I lack in professional acting budget, and directorial crew skills, I’m resolved to make up with editing.
Deft shot transitions, even with just a few camera angles. Liberal use of supplemental footage, from natural sources, as opposed to this adult niche. Relevant musical accompaniment, tone and lyrics matching the visual stimulation.
This gig is just a gateway on my path to success in the classier corners of the multimedia entertainment industry. Granted, a seedy, stinky, slow, sketchy, solution. I need to start somewhere.
A few days later, I’m sitting on the couch in my office; the same dingy hotel room I’ve spent the past half-month inhabiting. As I fast forward through the footage, I can’t help but smirk.
A trio of random males, various ages and ethnicities accounted for, standing in a neat line awaiting their turn. Two gentlemen, transitioning from trim and proper, to passionate and vulgar. A busty lady, summoning a young lad to come aboard, in more ways than one.
Within minutes, I’m laughing and crying at the same time. What have I gotten myself into, and how did I end up in this raunchy profession? Maybe I should just transition back to documentary video sales, of the aquatic, as opposed to erotic, variety.
After a final viewing session, end to end, during which I never pause, fast forward, or look away from the footage, I decide my masterpiece is complete. What to do with it next is the real question?
Is this work of art really something I want to have my name associated with. Since all the effort has already been exerted, I conclude there’s no way I can’t release this curated flick to the general public. Or at least a very specific segment of society, which actively seeks out such leud products.
Clearly the troupe of thespians I selected for my directing debut seem completely comfortable with their overt roles. Albeit, many of them adopted catchy alias names, as I watch the credits roll through, stylized pink font on a black background, with a catchy R&B tune playing over the speakers.
Taking a final swig of hard seltzer from my depleted tall can, I open my laptop, and send the compressed video footage off to the publisher. This connected company will disseminate my novel work throughout the internet, using their impressively linked network of adult film aficionados, and provide me with a meager cut for each downloaded purchase.
As with most life ventures, I’m at the whims of the convoluted Hollywood compensation scheme.
And so begins the next phase of my life. We’ll see how long this seedy new gamble lasts, and how much I regret this decision in the future. It can’t be any worse than my historical string of transgressions and failures in the entertainment industry. Hopefully, a shower, and a hug from my better half, will allow me to escape from this shadowy sinning to respectable reality.