Page 4 of Interview With a Porn Star

“So how do you create interaction?”

I sighed. “It’s not always easy,” I admitted. “I try to work with girls I am comfortable with, and who are comfortable with me,” I said. “Having an established relationship that we’ve built up over previous films makes the connection effortless each time we perform together. In other cases – if it is a new girl I have never met before – I try to spend some time with her when I am casting.”

“You mean you have sex with her?”

I shook my head. “No. We just chat and I film her for a few minutes. I want to know in advance if the girl will be right for the scene I have in mind. I can sense that in their personality and in their attitude. The best women to work with are the nymphomaniacs and the ones who like to show off their bodies.”

“Exhibitionists?”

“Yeah, they’re the best women for porn films,” I said. “The worst ones are the girls who are only working for the money, or maybe because they’re curious. They generally only do a few films and then disappear. Porn is tough. You have to love your work, or you won’t have any longevity in the industry.”

Connie paused to write, and then looked up at me suddenly. She was frowning. “What about prostitutes?” she asked. “Have you ever worked with call girls? I imagine women in that line of work would be ideal for these kind of films.”

I shook my head. “Hookers are even worse to work with than the ones who come on set just for the money.”

“Really? I find that hard to understand.”

“It’s not,” I explained. “It’s actually makes perfect sense. You see prostitutes often feel ashamed of the work they do – and they definitely regard sex as just work. Sex isn’t pleasure for them, it’s their job, so they don’t enjoy themselves.”

Connie looked thoughtful for a moment. She flipped back through several pages of notes, rereading them silently while I watched. Then she looked up at me, her brow frowned in preparation for another question.

“What nationality of women do you think are best suited to the porn industry? Do you have any preferences?”

I nodded. “It has been my experience that women from Eastern Europe are more passionate and more in touch with their sexuality than women from the west,” I said.

“You mean American girls?”

“I mean girls from the west in general,” I said, side stepping any direct criticism of girls from the States.

“Why do you think women in Europe have that sexuality that you mentioned?”

“I don’t think some women have a sexuality and others don’t,” I explained carefully. “I simply feel that women in Eastern Europe are more connected to that sexuality I believe all women possess within them. The girls in the west seem to have lost touch with that raw power.” I shrugged. “Maybe it’s because girls in the west have so many other distractions – the technology, the shopping – it’s like they have lost touch with that part of themselves to a certain extent. The girls in Eastern Europe generally come from poorer economies. They don’t have the same depth of distraction. Maybe that’s why they have retained the sexual energy and instinctive feminine desire that manifests itself on film.”

Connie made quick notes and then looked up again. “Have you made a lot of porn films, Mr. Cassidy?”

I smiled and held up a hand. “Call me Rick,” I insisted.

Connie nodded cautiously. “Okay… Rick.”

I kept smiling. “Yes,” I confirmed. “Over three hundred.”

She made a whistling sound of wonder through pursed lips. “That’s a lot of sex.”

“With a lot of women,” I acknowledged. “And in many of my films I often have sex with several different girls in each scene.”

She looked distracted and thoughtful, like maybe she was trying to work out the number of women I had been with. She was silent for a long moment, and then seemed to rouse herself.

“Do you have a favorite film?”

I thought about that. “No…” I said slowly. “I honestly can’t pick out just one film. There have been so many I have liked, for different reasons. I love some films because of the locations we used. I love others because the women I cast were incredible. And there are others I like because my performance was best.”

She frowned. “Your performance changes?”

“Yes.”

“From film to film?”

“Yes, of course,” I said. “It all depends on the women I am working with. Some ladies are not so much fun to do sex scenes with,” I smiled wryly. “We just don’t connect, and the scene falls flat because the energy is missing. Other girls are incredible. They make working with them easy.”

Connie nodded, like she understood, but I knew she didn’t.

She couldn’t possibly understand.

Impulsively, I sprang from the big chair and crossed the room in three strides. I seized Connie by the wrist like we were running late for a date. “Come on,” I said. “Enough talk. Enough theory.”

I dragged her off the lounge and she trailed behind me reluctantly, a moment of alarm flashed across her eyes then faded just as quickly. “It’s time you got to see for yourself what I have been talking about, and what you are determined to despise so much,” I said. “It’s time we watched some porn together.”

Chapter 4.

The house had its own home theatre room at the end of the hall, and down a flight of steps. The room had been purpose-built in the basement, and the walls were sound-proofed. I leaned through the doorway and switched on the lights, then led Connie into a room that was about fifteen feet long and maybe a dozen feet wide. The walls were painted black, the ceilings dark wood paneling. There were three plush theatre seats in a line across the room, set before a massive television screen. I gestured for Connie to make herself comfortable, and I sat in the seat beside her.

“The monitor is connected to a state-of-the-art sound system,” I explained. Built into the armrests of each seat was a console. I found the remote controls, and switched off the room lightning. For a moment we were plunged into deep silent darkness, and then the big television screen burst to life with music and a montage of erotic images.

“This is the film I wrapped up just last month,” I explained. “We shot in Europe in a number of different locations, and did the post production work at my facilities on the farm. No one has seen the finished movie yet – it won’t be released worldwide for another couple of months.”

In the flickering light of the screen I could see Connie’s expression, pensive and cautious. The music in the background swelled and then began to fade away and after thirty seconds, the title of the film appeared.

‘A Hard Day’s Night.’

Written and directed by Rick Cassidy.

“Wait!” Connie said suddenly. I felt her hand grope for my wrist in the darkness.

I stabbed ‘pause’ on the remote control and turned my face to hers. Light from the big screen played across the features of her face, softening them.

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