Read Insatiable: Porn — a Love Story Online
Authors: Asa Akira
Insatiable: Porn — a Love Story (25 page)
During it all, Mommy had her hand on the other boy’s dick. She held on to it like an anchor, as Daddy slid his dick in and out, in and out. Mommy looked up at the boy with pure happiness painted all over her face. The boy knew what needed to happen.
The boy crawled around Mommy, and as Daddy was making love to her ass, slid his own penis into her vagina. The feeling was overwhelming, but in the best way. It was like an awakening. Mommy cupped her hand over her mouth and looked up in ecstasy, above the camera, into the eyes of Sam, the nice lady directing the movie.
“Just keep going, I can cut this out of the movie if you want later. Just keep going.” Sam knew Mommy’s first DP would be a highly marketable scene to capture. She was Mommy’s friend, and didn’t want to ruin a perfect moment with anything like logic or sensibility. She knew something magical was happening in Mommy.
Mommy kept going. She never knew such a sensation existed. It was literally the most amazing thing she had ever felt. If ever there was a moment she thought she could die happy, that was it. At the age of twenty-five, she foolishly thought she had seen it all. Maybe you are at an age when you feel this way. But in that second that both penises were in her, everything changed. If something like this was out there, previously undiscovered to her, there had to be so much more still.
Daddy and the other boy DP’d Mommy for a while after that. After they were done, they came huge loads on her face.
Mommy was more infatuated than ever with Daddy. She asked him for his number. They met up a only a few times before Daddy had to go back to Spain again.
The scene went on to win “Best DP scene” at the AVN Award Show that year. Do you know what the AVN Award Show is? It’s the most prestigious award show in porn, considered the “Oscars” of the business. The girls even wear long gowns that cover up most of their bodies to the event. See, that’s how you know it’s serious.
Over the next few years, Mommy and Daddy would only see each other when Daddy came to America.
Mommy was lonely, though, as having sex for money can be a very lonely business, and Daddy had his whole life in Spain; his business, his life, his friends and family. She briefly dated a boy to fill the void in her life. The boy was insecure, crazy, and loved her only in the way someone who hated himself could. He would later come out of the closet and start performing in gay porn, much to Mommy’s embarrassment.
Finally, one Valentine’s Day, Daddy was shooting a movie in America. He hired Mommy to work with him in it. He gave her a rose while she sat in the makeup chair with a buttplug in. It was all very romantic, obviously. The scene was electric. Mommy asked Daddy to come spend the night. He agreed. From that day forward, they were together every day until he had to leave back to Spain. And when he did leave, Mommy followed him. They went back and forth between the two countries until they got married so Daddy could stay with Mommy in America forever.
So do you see? If Mommy had never exposed her insides to the Internet, she would never have gotten the greatest gift in her life—you.
I hope you can see how happy I am with all the choices I have made in my life, and understand why living my dreams out, no matter what they were, was absolutely critical in creating your life, too. I hope I haven’t caused you pain, and if I did, I hope you can forgive me. Lastly, I hope I will have been the kind of mother who accepted you, and loved you unconditionally, for every bit of greatness that you are.
Love,
Your Mom
18
ONE
I stepped off the bus. It had been a three-hour ride, and I was groggy from the last twenty minutes, in which I had finally been able to fall asleep. Looking around, I didn’t see Travis or Gina. It was cold as fuck, even colder than the city. Gray, empty, and quiet, this was definitely smack in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere. One single doughnut shop, a parking lot, and nothing else in sight. The only noise was the wind, and the occasional car that drove by. It struck me as the kind of place that might produce a lot of guys named Don. Hardly anyone had gotten off at this stop with me.
As I decided to sit down on the bench, Travis came walking up to me. I had only met him a few times, but he was easy to spot: bleached blond hair, and dressed in what I would later come to recognize as the typical porn-guy attire: affliction shirt, Ed Hardy jeans, tacky men’s jewelry.
“Gina’s in the car,” he said smiling as we walked toward the parking lot. “Are you nervous?”
After thinking about it for a second, I replied, “I don’t think so.”
As unappealing as it may sound to the majority of the world, I had been fantasizing about putting my sex life on public display for some time now. The same way other women my age were naturally programmed to want a child, I felt porn was something I needed to do. I knew I couldn’t be happy if I didn’t give it a shot; I knew if I didn’t try it, I’d forever look back on my life and regret it.
Back home in the Lower East Side of Manhattan was a boy I was dating, Evan, and our roommates Peter and Stephen, who were boyfriends. I wasn’t sure if that would be my home at the end of this day.
“Everyone in porn has herpes” was Evan’s main argument.
“It would be worth it” was my stubborn reply.
I got into the backseat and Gina turned around. We chatted about how things had been, what was new—which, for me for the most part, was nothing. Less than a year ago, I had moved back home to New York City from Florida, and I had pretty much been sitting on the sofa since then. Upon moving, I had gotten myself clean of Oxys and cigarettes, which I didn’t mention. Gina talked about the awards she and Travis had won at the AVNs a couple of months ago.
When we arrived at the house, the makeup artist was already there. I set my duffel bag down and filled out some paperwork before sitting in his chair. Although I was using my real first name, it was strange, writing down my full porno name for the first time. I looked over my shoulder as I wrote it down, as if at any moment someone would point down at what I had written and tell me, “That’s not you.”
“How do you want your makeup?” The makeup artist asked as I sat down in front of him. I just shrugged with a smile. I didn’t know.
As it turned out, I hated the makeup he put on me. My own reflection frightened me as I walked into the bathroom. I quickly went to get my own makeup bag and fixed it to my liking. Today, of all days, I wanted to feel like myself.
They dressed me in a blue polka-dotted bikini and I posed on an ottoman in a white room with shag carpeting for my box cover pictures. The photo shoot part I was used to—I had done it so many times already for the radio show and my solo-girl website—I could have done it high as a kite and half asleep. In fact, I had.
The first sex position we did was cowgirl. Up until right now, I had anticipated this moment to be a nervous one. An anxious one. At the very least, I thought I would question my actions for a moment; I had envisioned myself thinking.
Here we go
, taking in a deep breath, and then going for it.
I neither felt nor thought any of those things. What I felt was empowered. Invincible. The whole time, I was conscious of the camera, and the fact that men everywhere would be watching me. It pushed me in a way I had never been pushed; it was a new high, and I knew I was hooked right away. In many ways, it was the best sex I had ever had up until that point in my life.
It was as if I had never really been turned on before. I was always curious, horny, wanting to have sex. This was different. It felt like there was literally a spotlight on me, highlighting my every move, making me feel sexier than I ever had. I thought about people watching me with their friends. Watching me in shame. Watching me while fucking their own partners. Watching me for hours on end, jerking off in front of a computer screen while their significant other slept in oblivion upstairs. As we moved through the positions, I felt certain and confident in what I was doing. I couldn’t wait for it to be over, so that I could reminisce every wonderful second.
I never felt so much attention. I never felt so wanted.
Exhausted, I passed out on the bus ride home thinking about what my new life would be like. I would sleep with all the best fuckers in the country. Men all over the world would watch me and jerk off. The first step was done. From here on out, this was what I wanted to do. For the first time ever, I was excited for the rest of my life.
When I woke up, we were already at Port Authority. Stepping off the bus for the second time today, I automatically walked toward the downtown A train heading toward my parents’ house. I wouldn’t go back to be with Evan tonight—he would just try to talk me out of it, and my mind was already made up. I smiled to myself, thinking,
I’d be such a catch, I swear; if only I didn’t have this urge to have sex in front of the world, engrained in my very being
.
Four days later, I flew out to L.A.
And the journey began.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, Morgan Entrekin, Peter Blackstock, and everyone at Grove/Atlantic: Thank you for giving me this chance of a lifetime. I couldn’t be more proud to be a part of your roster.
Toni, my husband. Thank you for loving me, putting up with me, and supporting me. Thank you for not snooping through my computer as I wrote this. And if you did, thank you for hiding it so well.
Mark Spiegler, my porn agent and best friend. No amount of words printed on a page could describe my gratitude for your existence.
Dave Choe, my brother/cousin/uncle’s wife’s grandmother’s daughter’s niece, twice removed—what are we telling people these days? Thank you for the beautiful cover. You are the best artist in the world.
Last but not least, Marc Gerald—my book agent, aka Literary Suitcase Pimp. Without you, this project would never have even started. Thank you for believing in me, for guiding me, for giving me confidence, and most of all, for inspiring me.
Without you all, this would not have been possible. I thank you from the very bottom of myvaginaheart.
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