How to Make Love Like a Porn Star: A Cautionary Tale

by Jameson, Jenna

  You should also know what the standard pay is. I recently saw a contract for a new production company. For a girl-girl scene in a regular feature, the pay is $500; a boy-girl scene is $1,000, with an extra $250 for anal. However, because the gonzo guys are paying so much, the talent is getting spoiled and asking for more money, so the prices are going up.

  If you’re very hot, however, you can make a lot more money. Every company wants a fresh new face, especially if the girl is driven and actually cares about the profession rather than just wanting quick cash. The perception of the industry has changed a lot in the last ten years, and now for the first time girls are rolling in who are drop-dead gorgeous. They’re seeing that not only can you become a millionaire and call your own shots, but you can actually become a household name of sorts as well.

  But there is another path through all this: one in which the business can be a good experience. However, this path is reserved for women of particular beauty. We all get paid kickbacks for finding gorgeous girls for films, so we’re always on the lookout for new talent. If you fit the bill, all you have to do is go see a porn star when she’s dancing on the feature circuit and talk to her. In fact, if I like a new discovery enough, I’ll even use her in one of my movies. Why give her away to someone else?

  If a girl who’s young, attractive, and has a good attitude comes up to me at a show and says she’s been thinking about getting into the industry, I always ask: “Is this something you are serious about? Is this something you want to do long term? Because you have to understand that if you are only planning on doing this for three months, it will affect the rest of your life. You will always be thought of as a porn star, even if you become a nun afterward.”

  If I feel that she’s in it for the long haul, I’ll take a Polaroid of her, write her phone number on it, and then bring it back to the production company I’m working with. If a girl is good enough for me to bring into a company, the owner will usually contact them and fly them out for a meeting. Some companies like Vivid will do a test shoot with a photographer; others will throw the girl in a movie the next day to see how she performs.

  If the company wants to use her, I’ll always show her the ropes and teach her how to keep from getting stepped on. I’ve actually found a lot of girls on the road: Brittany Andrews, Gina Lynn, and Devon, in addition to lesser-known models whom I got into magazine work.

  When a new hot chick arrives on the scene, the news spreads quickly. Suddenly everyone is competing for her. So, if the company likes how you look on film, then, in a best-case scenario, contract negotiations begin. If a contract girl appears in ten movies a year, she’ll typically make about $75,000 to $100,000. Of course, since the average movie only takes two days to film, this is only twenty days of actual work. That leaves 345 days to do whatever else you want with your life. Of course, there’s always a lot of other work to do for collateral cash, whether it’s extra scenes or feature dancing in strip clubs around the country.

  Amazingly, even though the workload is so small, some girls still don’t show up on set. And when they do, they’re often late and hung over, with ratty hair and nails that haven’t been done in a year. They think that becoming a porn star means just fucking and doing drugs, but it’s a job. You punch the clock and you go to work.

  And before you even get into it, realize that it’s not easy to have sex with strangers in front of other people. When you’re having sex, you’re at your most vulnerable. Only a handful of women look good fucking: everyone has a little cheese here and there. At the very least, most girls have to battle eating disorders at some point from seeing themselves jiggling naked on camera so much. And, speaking of exposure, every time you’re on set you’re swapping fluids with someone, so your body is constantly fighting colds and flus. You get sick. You get run down. And you get bored, because the hours are long.

  You also need to prepare those around you before your first movie. Do not attempt to hide it from lovers or family, because that will only stress you out and they’ll eventually find out anyway. So tell everyone ahead of time.

  Then pick a name. Don’t use another star in the industry’s moniker, like so many other girls do for some reason. Pick a name that’s original and not cheesy. A classy name like Julia Ann will take you farther than a cheesy one like Craven Booty. Next, make sure you register or buy the Internet domain name for your pseudonym before someone else does.

  So let’s say that you’ve made it through. You’ve set your rules and gotten into the business in a respectable way. There is so much more to learn, hundreds of little pieces that add up to the difference between a sucker and a star.

  For the initial few films, first impressions are everything. So show up on time, sober, in a good mood, and well-groomed—which means shaving or waxing your legs, your ding-ding, and especially the hard-to-reach areas so there isn’t a long hair coming out of your butt when you bend over.

  The act begins when you first get on set and ends when you leave. When you arrive, be bubbly and happy. Make friends with the crew, especially the cameraman and the lighting guy, because if they don’t like you they can make you look like Phyllis Diller. The same is true for the hair and makeup people: sit still and be friendly, because they can make you look like Dr. Evil.

  On the other hand, you don’t want to be too talkative on set. It’s better to sit there quiet and cute initially than to be a loud know-it-all. For the first few movies, watch and learn. The girls who are difficult to work with, who act like everything’s a chore, and who don’t befriend the crew, generally don’t last long. The girls who go the farthest tend to be laid-back, easygoing, approachable, and, most importantly, smart and business-savvy. Because she was so laid-back and real, Jill Kelly was constantly given starring roles in Vivid movies above girls who actually had a contract with the company. In fact, she’s an example of someone who actually reached the top without a contract. She did it through working hard and often, showing up on time, and kicking ass.

  When you are doing a sex scene, try not to be too detached. Help the guy you’re with. If a guy is having wood problems, a lot of girls get pissy. That only makes it even more difficult for the guy, which means that you’ll be stuck on set with him even longer. Realize that the more you give and the harder you work to turn a guy on, the more you get back and the better the scene will be.

  An even bigger danger for new girls is taking it personally when a guy can’t get it up. It’s easier said than done, because when you’re in the middle of a scene making strong eye contact with a guy as you’re going down on him and he suddenly goes soft, it’s difficult not to feel like it’s your fault. Recognize that it’s not you, but the pressure of the entire camera-and-crew circus around him. In fact, some of the best performers in the business actually get intimidated by really good-looking girls, because they build up the scene so much in their minds that they end up psyching themselves out.

  And while enthusiasm in a sex scene is important, overdoing it is as bad as not doing it at all. Girls who scream and flop all over the place into new positions don’t get many jobs, because the sound guy is pissed that she’s maxing out the levels and the camera guy is upset because he needs a new setup to capture each position. Besides, it doesn’t look real. So let the cameraman control the scene. At the other extreme, nobody wants a starfish. So it’s better to err in the direction of too much, and then tone it down if the director asks you to.

  Another aspect is the physical control. A lot of girls will get so lazy they’ll just put in a ton of lube and lay there, so that the guy feels like he’s putting a hot dog in a hallway. A little bit of consideration will really help. If you can actually clamp down on the guy, you’re going to get a better performance. You don’t even need to squeeze your PC muscles to do this. If you’re in doggie, you can just put your face all the way down and arch your butt, and the angles will rub the dick better. Or if you’re lying on your back and you spread your legs, try rocking your hips back because it narrows the
opening and really squeezes the dick, instead of rocking your hips upward to give them deep penetration.

  When it comes to acting, don’t be a deer in the headlights. Always be peripherally aware of where the camera is without looking at it. You also need to know where the lights are, so you can keep your face and body out of the shadows. And do not look at the director when he says something. If you want to talk to him, turn your face away from the camera, so that your mouth is out of the shot, and ask him to repeat it.

  The great thing about becoming a porn star is that you don’t need a manager, an agent, or anyone taking giant percentages of the money you’re earning. Never let anyone represent you or sign away anything to another person. Just be headstrong, stick to your guns, and have the ability to say no, and you can keep it all. If you need advice, find a successful porn star to take you under her wing. There are just a few basic things you should know: when signing a model release, for example, don’t give them Internet rights or permission to use the material in other products. And never allow any company to own your name. You are the product.

  The biggest challenges for girls doing movies regularly are drugs and dating. A boyfriend can be a nightmare for your career and your emotional health. Some girls come into the industry with creepy guys already attached, and they’ll be doing anal, gang bangs, and bukkake all in one film just to support his drug habit. By the time the girl cleans herself up, she’s twenty-six, done nine hundred movies, looks like Margaret Thatcher in the morning, and has nothing to show for it. On top of it, she’ll have no respect for money or sex anymore. Her pussy will have changed from a pleasure center to a cash machine.

  Other girls meet boyfriends after getting into the industry. And while most guys may think it’s cool at first, ultimately they’ll hate you for what you’re doing. Some guys even rationalize that if you’re having sex with other men on camera, then they can have sex with other girls in real life. Even if you end up leaving the industry for him, he’ll always hold your past against you.

  Also, never bring a boyfriend to the set, because they usually stare needles into you and everyone else the whole time. You’ll be so afraid you’re going to upset him that you won’t be able to perform. And the guy in the scene with you will either be unable to get a hard-on because he’s so uncomfortable or he’ll want to fuck you to death, just to piss your boyfriend off. Some of the bigger loser boyfriends will even hit on other performers. These are the aforementioned suitcase pimps.

  Because few outsiders truly accept and understand the lifestyle, most people in porn date within the industry. However, dating a male performer is also a kiss of death for most girls. As soon as emotions come into play and you both really love each other, you’re not going to want him to perform with anyone else and he’s not going to want you to perform with anyone else. So now suddenly both of you are off the market. There are only so many times you can work together before everyone gets bored of it.

  The other option is to have an open relationship and fuck other people, but then that’s not a relationship at all. It’s nothing. I’ve never seen a swinger couple work out: usually, one person will fall in love with the other first, but will keep their mouth shut until one day they just blow up and let it all out. And when they do, it’s such an overload of emotions and feelings that it scares the other person off. Even to those of us behind the camera, sex is an intimate thing. This is borne out by how hard it is for anyone in the industry to have a healthy relationship off camera. No male is wired to watch his lover having sex with another man on camera, especially if he is better looking, has a bigger dick, and fucks her better.

  Of course, being in the industry can be a great experience. It’s rare to have a career in which you are making money and in complete control of your own destiny at the age of eighteen. And, believe it or not, you can actually become a role model for women. More women come up to me with thoughtful praise than men. So now’s the time to take advantage of the opportunity, before the field becomes too popular and Julia Roberts is getting pile-driven by Erik Everhard.

  All you have to do is be smart and strong enough to find the right team to work with. You’ll never meet a nicer bunch of people than your crew, from the caterer to the makeup artist. Because we are shut out by the mainstream world and there are so many misconceptions about what we do, we bond and support each other like family. I’ve been on regular Hollywood TV and movie sets, but none of them have the love, camaraderie, and respect that we do for one another. In every industry there are people who will try to take advantage of those who are new and naïve, and that’s what these warnings are for. When you’re dealing with sex, the risks to your emotional well-being are greater.

  Of course, none of the above rules are iron-clad. The only reason I know about these mistakes is because I ended up making so many of them.

  Michael was as good to me as Nikki had been. After helping me find an apartment, he took me shopping. I foolishly squandered five thousand of the six thousand dollars I had saved from my modeling gigs on a white loveseat that was big enough to sleep in. I didn’t have enough money left over for a real bed, so I bought a mattress. A distressed coffee table from Modernism Artisan Furniture on Ventura completed my decorating.

  Before I knew it, Michael and I were breaking in the mattress together. And, suddenly, I was dating the male Nikki. He was a sweet, nurturing, incredibly bright guy and a marketing genius who was in the process of starting a handbag line (which I now see at Nordstrom and Neiman Marcus). Suddenly, I was feeling good about this whole L.A. caper. For once in my life, I thought things might be easy for a while.

  The only problem with living alone was being alone. When Michael came over, he’d just have sex and leave. He never spent the night. I wanted someone to stay with me because throughout my life, from my brother to Jack, I had always slept with someone in bed beside me. It made me feel safe.

  To substitute for human companionship, I bought a little television. Every night, I slept on the loveseat in my small windowless living room with the TV on. Soon, it was my only friend. Michael came over less and less. As usual, my dependency on him was driving him away. But I had learned my lesson from Jack; and when I complained to Michael about the distance he seemed to be putting between us and he didn’t do anything about it, I cut him out of my life. That was my new attitude: either you’re on the bus or you’re off the bus. I wasn’t going to put up with half-assed commitment.

  Now I had no one. I had no car, no money, and no survival skills. It was a fate I met kicking and screaming every day. My father had always warned me that the most dangerous place for a woman to be alone was a parking lot. And my new apartment had a desolate gated underground parking garage that looked like the set of a slasher film. The only way to get to the apartments was through the garage. A little doorway there led to a narrow, dimly lit staircase. I was perpetually scared that someone was going to jump me.

  When I called photographers for work, they told me they couldn’t shoot me for another three months because my pictures were, once again, saturating the magazines. With the little work I got, I could afford rent and some food. I refused to go back to stripping, though the temptation for the easy money was strong. I would sooner have walked dogs.

  Every night, I would order food from a little Italian restaurant around the corner and then leave it half-eaten on the floor as I cried myself to sleep, just like when I was a little girl. One evening, I opened the door to let the deliveryman in. It was always the same guy: a hairy, thick-armed doofus with stringy black hair and a wardrobe consisting only of grease-stained button-down white shirts. But today, he looked different. His jaw was set, his eyes blazed, his voice trembled. When he passed me the food with shaking hands, he just stared at me.

  I left the door open and walked to the loveseat to get my wallet. He followed me in and closed the door behind him. “I saw you naked in a magazine,” he said. “Yeah, you looked real good. You and I are going to—”

  I screamed at
the top of my lungs. I just kept screaming and screaming. I was sure I was about to be raped. But instead the guy abruptly turned around and ran out of my apartment. I collapsed onto the loveseat, shaking. My whole body felt cold, and I curled up and stared at the wall. I must have lain there for hours, comatose. I slowly came to the realization that I was going to be one of those homeless burnouts on Hollywood Boulevard unless I did something for myself. I had no one to rely on—no Jack, Dad, Nikki, or Michael—to help me or push me or chauffeur me. I needed to take control of my life and do something if I ever wanted to get out of this rut. And that’s when I decided to shop myself.

  Hi, I’m Jenna Jameson. You may not know me, but I was in a movie for Heatwave called Silk Stockings. Is it possible to make an appointment with Steve Orenstein for sometime next week?”

  To my surprise, his secretary said yes. She didn’t even ask what I was coming in to talk to him about.

  “How about Friday afternoon at three-thirty?” she asked.

  “Let me see,” I said, rustling through the pages of a magazine to make it sound as if I were checking a day planner. “I’m pretty booked that day, but I can juggle some appointments around. I’ll see you then. Thank you.”

  Steve Orenstein had founded Wicked Pictures just two years prior, in 1993, but was already making over a dozen movies a year. His mother was a bookkeeper who had taken a job accounting for an adult-magazine business. Like any good mother, she procured a job for her son there, and he gradually rose through the ranks of the industry until he decided to form his own production company—with his mom as accountant, of course.

  On Friday, I dug into my shoebox of rent money and pulled out thirty dollars to cover the taxi ride to and from Canoga Park. Then I put it back in the box: If I didn’t get the job, I wouldn’t be able to cover my rent. I called Lyle Danger and begged him for a last-minute lift to Canoga Park.