Either way, here's the next installment.
My Big Break
Sometimes we are the last people in the world to realize who we are. Everyone around us knows. Even strangers sometimes have more insight into who we truly are. But there we are, going through life, thinking for all the world that we know exactly what's going on, when BAM! Out of nowhere, some life-changing realization blindsides us. Or maybe I'm strange in that that's how it happened for me.
After that first movie, I couldn't hide from the fact that I wanted to have sex with men. It seems so obvious now, looking back. The way Amy and I used to have sex, the dildo -- they all seem to have been pointing me toward men. But I had managed to hide from it all the while; I had ignored what was right in front of my face.
Was I attracted to men, though? Sure, I wanted to have sex with them, but did I want to touch them, kiss them, feel their rough embrace? Yes. And no.
The realization I came to is that I'm not attracted to gender. It's weird. Most people can say, "I like men," or "I like women," but me...I like individual people. Obviously, sex with me is never going to be like that between a normal man and a normal woman, regardless of which role I'm playing. I know that I'm the one who should be penetrated. I know that my penis is practically useless. But some women like that. Some men like that too. And I like a little bit of both.
I guess I'd need to be quite a bit more eloquent to really explain it; people who aren't truly bisexual like me have a hard time understanding it. I recognize the beauty and sexuality of both sexes, but prefer neither -- to me, it's all about the person wielding that sexuality.
So there I was, a freshly minted porn star. I knew that I had put on a good show; I could see it in the faces of the crew. But I didn't know how good it really was until a month after that first movie (I had done a few more in the interim), I got a call from a man representing a production company called A.V.A. entertainment. Apparently, they were (and are) the second biggest porn production company in the United States. And they wanted me.
It's really flattering, you know. I don't know how to explain it; it's a little surreal, hearing them tell you how great you are...and it's so easy to get caught up in it.
They wanted me, but they wanted a different me. They had plans, you see, and they wanted to know if I would be on board before they took it any further.
What do you say to someone who asks if you'd ever thought about taking female hormones? How do you respond to, "The audience wants a shemale like you -- so naturally feminine, so beautiful. Not a trace of masculinity there...except for that tiny reminder between your legs..."
On the one hand, I wanted to disagree. I wanted to say that I did have masculinity...I almost did. But then I remembered watching my first movie -- there was only one man in that video, and it certainly wasn't me.
I don't even remember what I said. I just remember that I told the man that I'd consider it. And I did. For days. I researched it on the internet; I even called a doctor. What would it mean for me? But even as I read article after article, I knew that none of it really mattered.
I wanted to be a star; I knew that even then. I had the bug -- I wanted people to want me. I wanted to be watched. I loved it. And if they wanted me to take hormones to get there, I would. The only thing that could stop me was is if it would threaten my life.
So I called my doctor, and I asked him point blank if taking female hormones with my condition would harm me. He talked about increased risks of a few different diseases (like breast cancer), but they wouldn't pose a significantly higher risk in me than in other men. And so, I called the people at A.V.A. back.
I remember exactly what I said to them. "I'll do it."
After that first movie, I couldn't hide from the fact that I wanted to have sex with men. It seems so obvious now, looking back. The way Amy and I used to have sex, the dildo -- they all seem to have been pointing me toward men. But I had managed to hide from it all the while; I had ignored what was right in front of my face.
Was I attracted to men, though? Sure, I wanted to have sex with them, but did I want to touch them, kiss them, feel their rough embrace? Yes. And no.
The realization I came to is that I'm not attracted to gender. It's weird. Most people can say, "I like men," or "I like women," but me...I like individual people. Obviously, sex with me is never going to be like that between a normal man and a normal woman, regardless of which role I'm playing. I know that I'm the one who should be penetrated. I know that my penis is practically useless. But some women like that. Some men like that too. And I like a little bit of both.
I guess I'd need to be quite a bit more eloquent to really explain it; people who aren't truly bisexual like me have a hard time understanding it. I recognize the beauty and sexuality of both sexes, but prefer neither -- to me, it's all about the person wielding that sexuality.
So there I was, a freshly minted porn star. I knew that I had put on a good show; I could see it in the faces of the crew. But I didn't know how good it really was until a month after that first movie (I had done a few more in the interim), I got a call from a man representing a production company called A.V.A. entertainment. Apparently, they were (and are) the second biggest porn production company in the United States. And they wanted me.
It's really flattering, you know. I don't know how to explain it; it's a little surreal, hearing them tell you how great you are...and it's so easy to get caught up in it.
They wanted me, but they wanted a different me. They had plans, you see, and they wanted to know if I would be on board before they took it any further.
What do you say to someone who asks if you'd ever thought about taking female hormones? How do you respond to, "The audience wants a shemale like you -- so naturally feminine, so beautiful. Not a trace of masculinity there...except for that tiny reminder between your legs..."
On the one hand, I wanted to disagree. I wanted to say that I did have masculinity...I almost did. But then I remembered watching my first movie -- there was only one man in that video, and it certainly wasn't me.
I don't even remember what I said. I just remember that I told the man that I'd consider it. And I did. For days. I researched it on the internet; I even called a doctor. What would it mean for me? But even as I read article after article, I knew that none of it really mattered.
I wanted to be a star; I knew that even then. I had the bug -- I wanted people to want me. I wanted to be watched. I loved it. And if they wanted me to take hormones to get there, I would. The only thing that could stop me was is if it would threaten my life.
So I called my doctor, and I asked him point blank if taking female hormones with my condition would harm me. He talked about increased risks of a few different diseases (like breast cancer), but they wouldn't pose a significantly higher risk in me than in other men. And so, I called the people at A.V.A. back.
I remember exactly what I said to them. "I'll do it."
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