Sometimes writing headlines makes this line of work seem so tawdry, and unequal to the great events taking place in it every day.
Like Nicki Hunter returning to active performing after being sidelined by leukemia treatments for nearly a year, and a dildo that is also a bong, and Flower Tucci letting me use her whipping cream for my coffee.
“Don’t use all of it,” she said as I took the carton from the refrigerator. “That’s going all over my ass later.”
Read more after the gap.
Cousin Stevie’s umpteenth Pussy Party, this time subtitled (at press time) “Tushies”, featured the return of Hunter as well as generous-assed pornstresses like Sunny Lane, Tucci, Olivia O’Lovely, Luscious Lopez, Richelle Ryan, and Alaana Evans.
“We’ve got the A-team here today,” Lane said, A meaning ass, “All the volumptuous girls.”
“Volumptuous” is a combination of the words “voluptuous” and “scrumptious” that Sunny made up. You must pay her a quarter every time you use it.
The Pussy Party experience, as you’ve read in these pages before, is unique. Women compete for prizes in different configurations, and there is a rotating group of judges. Yesterday’s judges included Kevin Blatt of sex tape brokerage fame and a couple of wealthy older dudes who had bid on their judgeship at last May’s Skylar Neil Memorial Golf Tournament. They showed up in a $180k Mercedes and parked it next to my Saturn.
Inside the house we were equals, though I was the one who got Flower’s ass cream in my coffee.
Like some directors in the business, Cousin Stevie does not hold the camera himself and doesn’t sit behind a monitor. Instead, he’s more of a presence in the room. He is a genial, old school guy that the talent loves and that his longstanding crew appreciates, though they know that a “Pussy Party” is a long day of work.
Stills photographer Alberto Lopez (no relation to Luscious) is by day a commercial photographer, and for the “pretty girl” (non-hardcore) pictures he wet down the poolside as if he was shooting a Ford commercial. Flower Tucci knelt on the wet pavement, looking far more appealing than the 2008 Escalade and only slightly more likely to roll over.
Porn Valley rental locations in this area of Woodland Hills tend to be owned by the same people. Off the top of my head, I went to the Operation Desert Stormy shoot next door and, across the street, have beeen to at least one of Stevie’s sets and the filming of a Roy Karch movie on a summer day that was so hot I think the girls stuck to the pool table (I wasn’t complaining).
The houses are surrounded by high walls and gates. Visitors usually park on the grounds. With a few well-placed tunnels and maybe some watchtowers, I think the owners could open a successful armed porn compound. Or the Kennedys could move in.
The big story of the day was Nicki Hunter’s return. She looked great, like a far more frank Annie Lennox. Who am I to disagree?
I don’t know where these guys get their art. Maybe from the same offramp where I buy my oranges, but I had to take advantage of Alana Evans in the only way propriety would allow. She was an excellent Carol Not-the-Brady.
“My ass is so tight,” she said at one point while I was talking with someone else. I don’t know why she said it or who she said it to, but that’s the type of thing that can draw people out of their own conversations from about 50 yards away.
“That’s awesome,” I said.
Phallix Glass, which started out as a glass bong concern that morphed into a dildo company, combined those exact disciplines into a dildo that is also a bong. I think they should call it The Chronic Masturbator, but no one ever listens to me. Here’s Trina Michaels. She doesn’t smoke, but she smokes, if you knows what I mean. I sure don’t.
I left early, to my regret, and joined the steady progression of traffic eastward/southward on the 101. It took me 90 minutes to get home; traffic was like ass, but not in a good way.
See the gallery here.
Previously: On the Set archives
See also: Cousin Stevie
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