The Pool of Dreams
Nestled in a quiet neighborhood in San Fernando Valley is a house rented by The Porn King. It's a relatively non-descript house with two bedrooms, manicured lawn, pool and a jacuzzi. It is also a set that's well known to The King's subscribers.
In many ways, it's a house like any other house. There's a fridge, a washer/dryer, television, computer and the usual trappings of any home. Beyond that, there are little tell-tale signs that things in this house aren't the usual things that happen say, across the street in that three bedroom single-family.
Scattered around the house are bottles of lotion, baby oil and lubricant. The sign in the bathroom doesn't say "welcome to our home", it says "no fucking on the sink you fat pigs." In the kitchen where one would normall find a blender is an array of digital still cameras and a couple of HD video cameras, some big and some small (for handheld action, I presume).
I have to ask The Porn King about the house and how famous it is to his subscribers. I imagine that his loyal subscribers would kill to stand where I'm standing. This house is legendary. Lovers world wide have viewed porn shot on that couch or by the pool. This is hallowed ground. Real AVN Award kind of stuff.
For a moment, I imagine myself as a porn star. A stud taking young vixens by the pool on camera for the world to watch in wonder and amazement. The Next Ron Jeremy. I just need more hair (on my chest). I wonder what that would be like.
I don't have to wonder for too long because one of The Porn King's producers is banging a model in one of the bedrooms. A producer banging a real, certifiable porn star. The Porn King tells me her name and she's well-known. I'm amazed. Maybe that could be me.
But I'm not here to bang porn stars (though I could be persuaded), I'm here to hang and talk shop with The Porn King. The King and I go way back. Back to when he was just a regular guy in the world and not the industry mogul that he is today. Tonight it's a casual and relaxed night of steak, cigars and drinks by the famous pool (and not on the famous couches).
It's then that I realize how difficult it would be to live in this house. Producers in one room banging porn stars, web designers in the living room coding the websites and models milling about. If I lived here, I don't think I could get anything done, much less wear anything but a robe.
The odd thing is that in spite of all this, it's the most relaxed, casual and least action-intensive night I've had since arriving in Southern California nearly two weeks ago.
