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Whore Next Door: A Blossoming Pornomance - By - October 14, 2015 - SF Weekly
SF Weekly

Whore Next Door: A Blossoming Pornomance

Recently, I made one of my quarterly trips to Southern California to soak up the sun and shoot some weird fetish porn. This time I brought my boyfriend, Sam Solo. We were booked for two back-to-back days of shooting, including two threesomes, a group scene, and more than a few strap-ons.

It was bound to be an exciting couple of days, but the morning of our first day of shooting, I found Sam pacing the small pink bedroom we were staying in. He was wringing his hands in panic, sick to his stomach with the sudden certainty that not only would he perform poorly in the upcoming scenes, but that this shoot was to be the final scene of his short career.

Porn is hard for people with penises. Men (as well as transwomen) are expected to maintain a rock-hard cock and sometimes also receive anal sex under hot lights, in front of cameras, strangers, and in situations that are sometimes far from arousing. It's incredibly difficult for most people, yet the performers who are skilled enough to do it are usually paid much less than the cis female stars with whom they perform. Sam's anxiety, although perhaps slightly overblown, was understandable.

But Sam is no noob; he's responsible for shooting, editing, and often starring in most of the content put out by two fetish sites that update weekly. He is mostly self-taught, and the sites are run on a shoestring budget — but I swear, that boy was made for porn.

Even though he's a full month my senior, Sam's boyish good looks harken back to a barely-legal, Titanic-era Leonardo DiCaprio, and his brain is an ever-flowing fountain of ideas for kinky scenarios and sex acts. In the same way that jazz guitarists can take a melody and riff off of it, Sam takes porn tropes, pop culture references, and edgy fetishes, spinning them into an amalgamation of smart DIY smut.

I'm biased, of course, but I tried to downplay that aspect as much as possible as I gave him the pre-porn pep talk. I told him to sit down on the floor so I could rub his shoulders. I planted a cup of hot chamomile tea in front of him and insisted he drink at least half.

I reminded him that we're both more than competent at making porn, that we love having sex with each other — and that this time, we were going to get paid for it. Moreover, I assured him that if he decided he didn't want to do the shoot, then that was okay, too.

Sam's breathing began to calm, and his shoulders softened a little. I kissed him on the cheek and went downstairs to finish my hair and makeup, thinking that giving him a little alone time might do the trick.

NBA Hall of Famer Bill Russell, who claimed 11 championships during his 13-year career, is said to have thrown up in the locker room before every single game he played. Sam must have been channeling Russell that day because sure enough, the next time I saw him, he was walking onto set in his bright red Converse high-tops, ready to make some porno magic.

He dueled twice with strap-ons of a gigantic size, delivering the crucial money shot not once, but thrice! I couldn't have been prouder.

Later that night, we counted our money, ordered Thai take-out, watched a horror movie, and fell asleep cuddling.

Sex work can be intensely isolating. So while it's certainly exciting to get paid to fuck someone you're in love with, I've found that having a partner by my side from pre-shoot jitters to post-shoot drop (and all the enemas and orgasms) is also a bit of a revelation.

Call it pornomance, homance, or just good old-fashioned young love, but sharing the ups and downs of this crazy business can feel as magical as puppy love at summer camp. Big feelings, tiny crises, and unexpected adventures solidify and deepen the bonds between us.

Two days, seven scenes, and 800 miles later, we rolled back into the Bay only to be greeted by a giant billboard a block from my house reminding us that “Porn Kills Love.” I squeezed Sam's hand as we pulled into the driveway, marveling at how that threatening statement could be so preposterously untrue.