Today, I was art directing an adult shoot. I arrived at the studios (having got up in the morning - as in, pre-9am -something I intensely disapprove of and avoid as much as possible) to discover that I knew one of the models. Who I promptly had a go at because last week, I bought a porn vid (hey, I'm a single girl, needs must...) and then it turned out that he was in it. So I couldn't wank over it. Because I knew him.
Much as I don't think porn objectifies people (well, not much) it's damn near impossible to wank over someone when you've spent numerous hours art-directing them and have seen their cock in every state from flaccid to full on - and know that their hard-on comes from them tugging themselves in the corner of the studio then moving to shag whoever it is they're booked to shag.
He laughed that I couldn't get off on his porn vid and had thus wasted £20.
And rightly so.
I then spent the day getting him and his foxy bird into various compromising (yet non-graphic) poses and being distinctly unaroused cos it was work.
I then went out for a beer with an agony uncle (first male sexpert - by job-title - who I've met) It turns out that he knows every trashy novelist I love, damned near, cos he's an author and authors seem to hang out together. I want to be in their gang. Or at least finish one of my sodding novels and have a chance to say 'Oh, we've got the same agent.' and have them sniff at me for only selling ten copies to their 100,000.
Guess I should write one so I stand a chance of getting there. And on the plus side, I finished the script, articles and gazillion other things I needed to do, so I may even have a chance to do some writing for fun.
Posted by emilyd at July 23, 2003 03:07 AM