There is something about L.A. that turns me into a functioning sexual predator. I could be out of town working on a television project or visiting friends back home and have the normal sex drive of an average mid-30’s all American type of guy. But when I get back to within load shooting distance of the L.A. city limits, my balls start percolating like a Denny’s grade coffee maker with a 10 inch pressurized drip valve. Okay, maybe 9 1/2 inches. Even the airport code “LAX” sounds fucking sexy. Like a mother bird feeding its young or a bad Tom Cruise movie where he pours a life saving antidote down a chicks throat, there’s something about this town that makes me addicted to sharing my fluids.
But when I get back to within load shooting distance of the L.A. city limits, my balls start percolating like a Denny’s grade coffee maker with a 10 inch pressurized drip valve. Okay, maybe 9 1/2 inches. Even the airport code “LAX” sounds fucking sexy. Like a mother bird feeding its young or a bad Tom Cruise movie where he pours a life saving antidote down a chicks throat, there’s something about this town that makes me addicted to sharing my fluids.
I believe that working in show business all these years has been a contributing factor to my So Cal “sexed upness”. It has nothing to do with fame or ego because I’ve never had blockbuster marquee billing and I’m a pretty grounded type of guy. I just truly feel the act of capturing a beautiful woman inside of a lens can be inherently intimate and sexual. As well as the fact that no one has a real job in this town. Every model I have ever known spends a majority of her days “on call” shopping on Robertson and popping Tic Tacs to mask her anorexic breath while waiting for her agent to get back to her about the next gig. That leaves a lot of time for sex, and I’ve never been one to shy away from a set of legs that are taller than me.
On a fucking side note: There is nothing sadder to me than a guy who uses his position in an industry to get women. I don’t care if you’re working in mainstream, shooting porno, or even selling used cars. I have to admit that I once had a very paranoid fear of obligation in dealing with women because of what I did for a living.
Even though I never had bad experiences. My life was pretty much a party the past ten years. I’m lucky. As a result, I was always upfront in telling women to only hang out for as long as they felt like they were having a good time because I knew any type of long term relationship would probably turn to shit because of the time demands of the job. That kind of honesty always seemed to be appreciated because just like the mafia, Hollywood pretty much requires you take an oath and turn over your soul if you want to make any kind of money in that business.
I apologize for allowing this rant about sexual addiction to turn into a homoerotic therapy session where the next thing you know I’ll be complaining that a older third cousin once shoved his cock in my mouth while playing Hungry Hungry Hippo 25 years ago. The moral of the story is that I like to fuck hot women in L.A. and look forward to carrying on that tradition of fucking hot women in L.A. as I venture into my new career of producing high concept porno.
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