Pussy Party: Day rate plus anal

“Can you make a beer run?”

It was Saturday morning and Missy Monroe was in a tutu and Kami Andrews was flouncing around in an elegant white two-piece number. But this time it wasn’t at my house, it was on a porn set.

Because Porn Valley is a subdivision of the sprawling Ponante Ranch, I rode my bike to the set of Cousin Stevie’s Pussy Party. That and I had a feeling I might be unfit to drive later. It was just a feeling.

I met the Glamazon Tylene Buck, who looked like a statue under which an occupying army might march. “My name is Brandi Wylde, as of today,” she said.

“Do you want beer, too?” I asked, watching a small amount of body fat shriek and explode when it got within a foot of her.

“No,” she said.

Missy Monroe gave me her car keys and her ATM card (“today I became a suitcase pimp,” I thought). There was a small fight between Andrews and Monroe over who would pay. I knew that they were beginning to fall in love. I peeled out from the parking lot in search of a place that would sell alcohol to a person like me.

I found a place on the northeast corner of Sherman Way (named after Mr. Peabody’s boy. The Valley also plays host to Edward Everett Horton Way and I understand the new bus system will be called the Bullwinkle line) and De Soto, flashed Missy’s empty box of Marlboros to see if the store had the same brand, picked up some Magnum 40s for Kami and a six-pack of Guinness bottles for Missy.

I wasn’t asked for ID and I scrawled some unrecognizable name on Missy’s ATM receipt. I left with bottles clinking at 11 in the morning. The only way I could be more of an example of what’s wrong with America would be to steal an election and back over a child on the way out. Check and check.

Back on set, the place was buzzing. The Pussy Party has an eight-girl format. The day starts with solo scenes, moves into 2-on-2 scenes, 4-on-4 scenes, and then a free-for-all at the end.

Cousin Stevie moved to California from Brooklyn in 1971. He’s 63. When his cousin, Adam Glasser (aka Seymore Butts) began shooting porn, he invited Stevie, who previously had run offices and marketed computers, to help with his business. This is all documented in Showtime’s Family Business which I have never seen because I fear watching The L Word by mistake.

I don’t really know Cousin Stevie, other than he’s always giving the finger to the camera, but I like him immensely in person.

“A big black guy came up to me at the convention and said he was scared to approach me because he thought I was going to punch him in the mouth,” he said. “People believe whatever they see on television.”

The other actresses were running around the small dressing room as Stevie explained my responsibilities as a judge, handing me a photocopied sheet of criteria, such as Lingerie (Missy already won that category as soon as I opened the door), Best Body, “How Well Eat Pussy” (an Ang Lee film), and Pleasure Others. It was this last category that made me think the shoot was going to be a successful one.

“In the first few Pussy Partys,” Stevie said, “we had all eight girls together from the beginning. It’s more effective now that we build it up gradually.”

The dynamic between the eight girls was interesting to watch off camera. For me, the most successful performances came from people who didn’t become unrecognizable when the camera turned on.

I found Taryn Thomas asleep on a couch, Monica Sweetheart reading an InTouch magazine about the Brangelina triangle, Erika Kole telling anyone who would listen about her AVN pre-nomination for a Jamie Gillis blowjob, Amber Peach listening quietly, Missy and Kami ruling the roost, Brandi tolerating people asking to bounce quarters off her, and Vivian West sort of acting as the median porn girl.

I had never met Vivian West before. If the current trend in porn girls runs from demure and pretty, like Monica Sweetheart and Jana Cova, to utterly wild and dissolute, like Kami and Missy (and I mean that in the best way), Vivian was right in the middle. She was the day’s dark horse.

Having no male talent on hand (I would have jumped in, but the day wasn’t about me), and having the nurturing, maternal, and utterly filthy influence of PurePlay’s April Storm on hand made the environment comfortable. The actresses themselves seemed to be most attracted to Amber Peach, whom they wanted to corrupt, and Brandi Wylde, whom they wanted to scale like the Empire State Building.

Nice Guy Rick Plank of Phallix Glass was, along with April Storm, a fellow judge. He supplied the dildonics for the festivities, all of which looked splendid as they appeared and reappeared from the marketable parts of some of today’s tastiest porn actresses. Over the course of the day, we had to award each of the performers up to 150 points for all the categories.

I guess I’m not allowed to say who eventually won and placed, but I only violently disagreed with one of the three awards, and I can see that was because of my own personal preference in Ladies.

Taryn Thomas was the one casualty of the day. She went home prior to the eight-way scene complaining of soreness.

“Where do we put the toys when they’re dirty?” Erika Kole asked at one point.

“In my ass,” Thomas replied ruefully.

Monica Sweetheart is from the Czech Republic city of Beroun. She told me that the Czech word for pussy was pipinka while the Slovak word was shushka. I asked her which word she preferred.

“Pipinka,” she said. I, too, feel that shushka hints at an oppressive regime.

During Sweetheart’s scene with Brandi Wylde, Erika Kole crawled across the carpet for some pipinka action. She was shooed away by Cousin Stevie.

“Monica has the nicest little cookie,” she told me, then added that she was pre-nommed for a Jamie Gillis blowjob scene.

Kami and Missy, with some help from Vivian, were the wildest performers of the day (though Amber had a very convincing yell). The quote of the day came from Missy who, in response to Cousin Stevie’s remark that she looked like an ice skater in her tutu, replied, “I’m ice skating for your cock.”

No one knew what this meant, least of all Missy, but it needs to be the title of Michelle Kwan’s autobiography.

The runner-up quote went to human vibrator Vivian West (she makes this noise with her tongue – oh my God) who, upon inspecting a battery-operated toy, said, “Glad I don’t own one of these because I’d live in a box and eat my own pussy all day.”

In the green room I asked Kami a question that explains why I’m not a drag queen.

“Why do porn girls and strippers all wear high heels?”

“Observe,” she said, “and shut off the camera.”

She proceeded to slip out of her Lucite heels and stood barefoot on the carpet. She frowned and put her hands on her hips. She looked ready to take on all comers.

Then she got back in her heels and smiled radiantly.

“It makes your legs look longer and your body straightens out,” she said. I could only see that she was smiling in one pose and frowning in the other; the eight parts of Kami’s anatomy that I find so fascinating were there both times.

“I am going to kidnap Kami and put her in a cage,” Monroe said, “and only let her out to fuck once a day.”

“I’m available most afternoons,” I said.

AVN’s Mark Kernes, looking excellent after his tumultuous 2005, mentioned during one scene that Kami resembled Kyra Sedgwick. This validates my goal of providing her with several degrees of bacon.

The day ended with Missy ceremonially giving birth to an AVN award (“I’m just happy to have beat JM,” Stevie said) and my fucking up getting Monica Sweetheart to leave my outgoing voicemail message. It would have been great had I actually saved it.

Previously: Put the Load right on me, By the time I get to Phoenix I’ll be in Prague
See also: PurePlay Media