Barely Legal

I laid the faux-fur blanket on the desert floor, which anywhere near the Los Angeles area is really nothing more than glorified dirt.  I explained to my actors how we were going to approach the introduction.  "Girl lying in desert sun in Pocahontas bikini, rubbing oil all over her body, takes the obligatory Barely Legal pee scene.... "  (Oh, shoot, Summer peed back at the convenience store!)  I gave her a liter of water.  "Girl returns to sunning herself on fur blanket, starts masturbating, dreaming about guy, who then appears out of the middle of the desert and voila... was it live or Memorex?!"  Bingo, we were into the sex, something about that pop shot thing, my ever so important ending with the girl disappearing into the desert and the fur blanket blowing away like a tumble-weed, and I'd have shot my first porn scene ever, for none other than Hustler's "Barely Legal."  I knew I had this other director, Clive McClean, breathing down my neck, still trying to figure out who I was, why I wasn't talent, and why on earth I was directing "his" show.  I knew if I wanted to make any money past the free room and board I had made on my indie "mainstream" movie, I was going to have to rock this out.  But, secretly, I was still trying to remember the names of those sex positions in my head.  

"How many positions do you want?"  Joey asked.  

"All of them."  I figured that would take care of that.  

"Which positions?"  He seemed confused.

I laid on the fur, making my Camera Operator lie next to me.  "After Joey walks up the mountain, he'll lay next to Summer, rubbing her body.  You'll then kiss, and slowly remove each other's clothes.  Joey then goes down on her... " I moved my Camera Operator into position  "Then, Summer sits up and gives him a blow job."  I moved myself into position, feeling nothing more than a foreign language student who has to act out what she's trying to convey.  "Joey then takes her into missionary."  I pulled my Camera Operator on top of me.  I was suddenly feeling a bulge just below my belly, and was slightly annoyed men had to get a hard-on when a woman is simply trying to communicate.  "Summer rolls him over into Cowgirl."  Before he knew it, I had my Camera Operator flat on his back.  "Then Summer spins around, into reverse cowgirl."  I was particularly impressed with myself for remembering the name of that one, as I twirled around on my Camera Operator's lap.  "You'll both fall into spooning from here.  And then doggy."  I figured that covered the positions.   

"How many minutes in each position do you want?"  Joey was relentless.  Minutes?  No one told me about minutes!  What happened to people just having sex?!  Wasn't that what porn was supposed to be?

"How many minutes would you like to do?"  I asked.  

"A directory usually asks for three to five minutes."  

"Yeah, give me that."

"Which one?  Three, four, or five?"

God, what was the big difference?  Did people in porn really count the minutes so closely?  Was it really that methodical?  "Four."  My answer would be revised several movies later for many different reasons, but at the time four was equally between three and five.  

I powdered Summer's face again and we were ready, moving through all the story-boarded angles for the introduction nicely.  Then, we went into that obligatory pee scene.  Summer pulled her bikini bottoms to one side.  And that's when I saw something I have never seen before.  All this flesh was suddenly flapping in the wind, like two flank steaks, and this thing... this long thing, which almost looked like a stubby penis, was jetting out between the two flank steaks.  I was immediately very worried that I had hired a man.  I looked  at my Camera Operator and then to Joey.  Neither guy seems to be surprised by this sudden display.  So, the camera kept rolling.  But she couldn't pee.  She kept trying and trying, and the more she pushed the more that small penis grew.  My Camera Operator kept cutting to her face, or her hand, or anything so with the magic of editing there would be no lag time in her beautiful urination moment.  Finally, the water came through.

As we set up for the sex, I quietly asked my Camera Operator about that vagina.  

"It's just a meaty pussy and big clitoris."  He seemed to know what it was right away.  

"Is that okay?"

"Some guys love a meaty pussy.  And the bigger the clit, the easier it is to get the girl off."

It sounded like we could continue.  But, it dawned on me then, that I had never really taken a hard look at another woman's vagina.  My only point of reference was my own, to that point.  And how niave was I to think they all looked and functioned the same?!  

I was directing the positions in a low, sexy tone of voice that would help keep my talent in the mood, I figured.  Joey poured more lube into his hands, rubbing it all along his cock, and instigating Summer to lather it into those flank steaks.  He did that often and I was beginning to be annoyed with the lube bottle, which was definitely ruining my documentary style of shooting sex.  (Shooting sex documentary style = not having a clue as to how to shoot sex.)   In my sexy voice, "Let's start with Joey kissing Summer, Summer pauses, smiling flirtatiously, turning around and looking back at Joey, as she lowers herself over his hard penis."  Then, Joey yelled out, "I can't hear you when you talk like that!"  

Fully annoyed now with his lube, and his questions, and opting to take his Land Rover instead of joining us in the mini-van, I lost my sexy voice, "Reverse cowgirl!"  On that note, almost as if I had said, "Abra Kadabrah"... the magic was done.

Somewhere right before the necessary and infamous pop shot, which we had decided he would do on her breasts, a helicopter started to hover not far in the distance.  My Camera Operator asked me, if I had a permit.  "Uh, no."  

He suggested my actors put on their clothes.  It dawned on me the cops may be there any minute.  My Camera Operator and I scurried to hide the evidence.  He hid the tapes of what we had shot, in the mini-van's spare tire compartment.  Joey was simply annoyed we were stopping at all.  And Summer was now smitten with whatever Joey thought.  We sat on the side of the hill, watching the hovering helicopter, debating if it were the police or a news crew looking out over the highway traffic; all the while my sun was definitely setting.  "It's not going to make any sense without the ending."  I uttered.  

"It's not going to make any sense without the pop."  Joey announced.  

I had yet to figure out a shot where the viewer wanted to watch some other guy spooge all over his fantasy girl.  I was going with it, but still much higher on m priority list was the grand finale to the story-line.  Oh, the places I would go, but who knew any of that, yet.  I did know my sun was setting, and I had to take a chance that helicopter was more focused on the traffic over the free-way in the distance than the sex on the side of the desert hill.  I took it... just before the sun was fully gone.  

We were out of there... until the mini-van was stuck in the lose pile of desert dirt.  Turns out those things are not made for off-roading, and off-roading is exactly what we had done.  Joey, whose Land Rover could easily make it out, pulled over and helped us all dig our way through the sand.  And hour later, and very pitch black, we made it to the entrance.  The only problem was the entrance was locked shut!  I had led the group into some sort of rock mining field, and this was now after hours.  And worse... coyotes or wolves were beginning to howl somewhere around us.

I thought surely my group was going to be mad at me, calling me on not having had a proper location, and this would be the last little porn scene I would ever make.  Determined, I found a road that ran parallel with the highway.  I was beginning to have flash-backs to every horror movie I had ever seen about young people stuck in the middle of nowhere, who thought it was okay to spend the night.  Let alone, how were we going to explain it to whomever opened that gate in the morning?!  I realized I was not very clear on the legality of what we had done.

Then, as if a gift from some high power, our headlights found a part of the fence bent over as if someone before us had tried to do the same thing and rammed through the fence until they could just drive straight over it.  And so, we drove over it, onto the highway, and back to the city we all called home.