“Well, don’t put me on the spot,” I’d say. “She’s standing right there.”
“Is there another spot you’d prefer, you asshole?” he’d say.
If you want porn’s version of Girls Next Door, you’d need look no further than Sunny Lane and Amber Peach, both of whose names really suited them.
Peach was the type of performer who, if she put on makeup, would seem as if she were upsetting the natural balance of the world, as she looked sweet with nothing on.
I’d always sense, though, that Peach was embarrassed when Cousin Stevie, 40-odd years her senior, would say such things. Not because she forgot what business she was in, but maybe because it was too on the nose.
Still, I can’t help but think of Roald Dahl when I meet Peach, and wonder if the famed author had actually written an allegory about a Giant Vagina.
Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Hirsch’s Heavies Heave Haunches Heavenward