SEXIS WRONG

omantic partners typically fall into one of five categories:
1. The partners also work at Sex World. Aside from the
ill-kept illicit affairs I’ve mentioned, many of my fellow
cumrads met their partners at the company. These
couples work together and go home together. I have
no idea how they handle this, especially when they
have children. What happens at parent-teacher conference
night?
“Hello, Mrs. And Mr. X-rated!”
“Hello, Ms. G-rated!”
“How are things at Sex World?”
“Very sexy, thanks. Is our little Jenna doing well in her courses?”
“Well, little Jenna’s English marks need improvement. But
she maintains straight A’s in business math, and she’s the
best gymnast on the entire team!”
“She has always been good with money, and also very flexible.”
“Little Jenna is very popular. The boys and girls are very fond
of her. She’s going to be a heartbreaker some day.”
“Ms. G-rated, thank you for keeping an eye on her.”
“The pleasure is mine.”
2. The partners don’t exist. Being a bachelor at Sex World
has its benefits. Anyone who’s ever attended an adultindustry
convention will wholeheartedly agree. Pornstars
eager for a taste of cock that hasn’t been tasted
by a thousand other well-compensated lips. Private orgies
in lavish suites at the Venetian. Blowjobs in bathroom
stalls at the Bellagio. Fucking on the dancefloor
at the top of the Rain nightclub.
These are all lies.
Adult conventions are unlike what you’d imagine. They’re a
claustrophobic feeding frenzy of incomprehensible proportions,
where the porn industry and the public mix into a grueling
blend of turmoil and mayhem.
These conventions are expensive, crowded, dissolute, and
exhausting. Everyone’s bushed from going to parties they
don’t want to attend and having client dinners with unsavory
stereotypes. The lines—taxi lines, guest list lines, drink lines,
convention entrance lines, and airport lines—are soul-killers.
It’s totally exciting the first night and total hell the next day.
The truth is that sometimes it’s easier to be single when you
work in porn, especially in regards to the #3 types.
3. The partners are prone to jealousy. Being romantically
involved with someone who works in porn is not an
easy job. You have to deal with the fact that your lover
is surrounded by beautiful young girls and well-endowed
men whose primary purpose is to arouse.
The porn world also depends on a revolving supply of new talent,
so its employees stay the same age. Getting old is scary
enough, especially in America, where ageism is rampant and
youth and beauty are tossed into your eyes at every turn. But
you can’t turn your eyes away from the young and beautiful
products of your partner’s porn career. If you can’t stand the
sight of continuous sex, your easiest option is to find another
vista that’s easier on the eyes.
Honestly, if I were on the other end of the stick, I don’t know
if I could handle it. That’s why I’m thankful that my partner
is a #5.
4. The partners handle nonmonogamy outstandingly. I
admire relationships that successfully revolve around
primary and extracurricular partners. It takes years of
trust and honesty to build an open relationship. A lot of
people fantasize about it, some give it a shot, but very
few can actually handle it. Polyamory is a rousing and
dangerous place.
I tried it once, and it was a disaster. As much as my body
loves fucking around, my mind requires monogamy. I’m mind
over matter, and steering clear of attractive matter is a matter
of my survival.
5. The partners are solid, secure, and understanding.
Most of my coworkers’ partners, and thankfully mine,
fall into this category. After all, working at Sex World
brings home the bacon. Our lovers realize that the
world of porn is a fantasyland. It’s not a pot you’d want
to dip into.
Whether in front of or behind the camera, dealing with sex on
a constant basis can be difficult, and it’s nice to come home
to someone who understands this.
“How was your day, sugar?” my boyfriend asks.
“Fucked up and busy as shit.” I’ve spent the last six hours at
a lingerie photo shoot. My hands are dirty from handling G-
strings and panties that are soaked with what we call “model
juice.”
“I made dinner tonight,” he says. The smell of chicken enchiladas
drifts from the kitchen. He pours me a glass of wine. I
make him a Crown and Coke. We go outside and sit on the
patio. We listen to the evening and sip our drinks.
“So how was your day? Tell me about it,” I say.
THE DAILY SCHEDULE OF A PORNO COPYWRITER 181