Married to Porn Pt. 01

“I’ll give you the biggest piece ever “Master D”; I’m going to keep you alive.” Sal Cazale said menacingly.

“The offer I can’t refuse huh Caz? I’m not Eddie Torres. I’ll go to the FBI on your ass.”

Sal Cazale begins to laugh the laugh of an evil dictator. “The FBI? Son you’re a degenerate gambler. You’re into the Los Angeles mob for 75 large and Capo Tony Fishtank is burying you in Vig alone.

Right now, you miss a payment here or there, and they’re not going to bother you right now; you’re a somebody in this industry. But once you retire and leave and you’re falling further behind? They’ll whack you out quicker than you can say “$2000.00 on the Knicks”.

Damon knew at that moment that Cazale held all cards. He had promised Diane that he’d stop gambling some time back and that he’d attend gamblers anonymous; so, she knew nothing of his current financial obligations to the mob.

He also knew that Anthony “Tony Fishtank” Lombrado kept assorted fish tanks in his home/office filled with deadly sea creatures such as piranhas, electric eels, sea snakes, etc…

Miss the Vig that week and the first time it‘s only a warning. He doesn’t even tack the missed payment onto the principle.

The second time, and your hand is put into the piranha tank for five seconds.

“Final fucking notice time” and your head is placed in the tank with the sea snake until you either drown, or the deadly venomous serpent strikes.
“So what you’re saying is, that you’ll pay off Tony Fishtank in exchange for me doing this movie. But don’t even think about getting a sales percentage from the profits. Correct?”

“Just to show you that I’m not a hard-hearted man, and that it isn’t all dollars and cents; I’ll even throw this in as a bonus.

Diane will never have to shoot with Jack Martin again. How does that grab you?”

Damon didn’t say anything at first. He tried desperately to maintain the poker face of a stoic. The fact is, this one thing alone sold him on doing the movie. He’d work for free if it meant keeping Jack Martin’s dick out of Diane.

“You can do that? Keep them from shooting together?”

“Son. The name on this studio is Cazale Productions. As long as they both work for me then I have final say.”

“Ok, I’m in then. Screw a percentage of the profits.”

“Not so fast Damon. I have one condition for bringing you onto this project.”

“A condition? I thought you wanted me in on this?”

“I do. God knows I do. However, I need for you to cut the shit.”

“The shit?”

“The betting. The ponies, football, boxing, two cockroaches fighting. I don’t give a fuck. It stops today. Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir. Loud and clear sir!” Damon replied, while wondering why the head of a porno studio suddenly gives a shit about the addictions or struggles of a performer on his way out of the life.

“I still think about the first time you wandered into my studio. Shy, 18 years old, a handsome face like Muhammad Ali, a swimmer’s physique, blessed with a cock like John Holmes.

I vividly recall you telling me that your goal was to become an action star; mainstream movies. The next Bruce Willis, the next Denzel, Will Smith…

I looked over at my secretary Gladys and said, “Gladys, if I can get three years with this kid, I’ll make him the biggest
Pornstar on earth.”

“Well, you almost succeeded.” Damon added.

“Being the biggest black star on the planet is nothing to thumb your nose at.” Cazale retorted. “The point that I’m driving at is this. Each time one of my performers loses themselves due to this business, be it from drugs, disease, gambling, you name it…

I feel responsible. I mean you might not be my kid, but you’re somebodies kid; so, if it takes a little “tough love” to keep your head out of that animal Lombrado’s fish tank then tough love it is.”

“So, when do we start shooting the movie?”

“After the Vegas convention. In fact, we are going to have a version of baseball’s all-star break. So, take some time off, get your head right, and remember…”

“No gambling?”

“Not even lottery tickets. Capeesh?”

“I read you loud and clear. Boss.”

Back on the set of “Nurse Wanda”, Diane aka “Vivian Starr” sats nude in a plush leather recliner puffing on a joint and having a glass of vodka.

Awaiting further instructions…

“This is how this “behind the scene” thing will work.” Director Wally explained. “When I shout “action”, I’m going to precede to ask you some various questions about today's shoot among other things, and then I’m going to ask you if you’d like to shower, which you’ll reply…”

“Yes. I’d love a hot shower.” Diane replied.

“Good. Any questions?”

“Yes. Are you going to allow me to rehearse my answers prior?”

“No. If you don’t know the questions up front, your answers will be more spontaneous. It’ll give the scene more authenticity.”

“Even if I stumble over a response?” She asked.

“Especially if you stumble over a response.”

“Ok. Well in that case… I’m ready.”

“Annnnnnd Action.” Wally shouted. “Ok, to the members and otherwise. We are “behind the scenes” with myself “Wally Wally” and the beautiful, talented, highly professional and sexy as fuck…Vivian Starr.

Vivian has just completed filming for her first ever gang-bang, multiple cream-pie movie. Say Hi to the members Vivian.”

“Hello members.” She said as she waved and smiled into the camera.

“So, what just occurred in your life not thirty minutes ago?”

“I just got fucked by seven…very sexy…very hung, Caucasian males.”
“Ummmm. Seven huh? You like getting fucked by white guys don’t you?”

“I don’t like it.” She said as she lowered her voice into highly seductive tones, “I love it!”

“You’re a very curious case. Did you know that?”

“What do you mean?”

“First, how about a nice hot shower? Would you like that?”

“I’d love a nice hot shower.”

Diane is helped out of the recliner, she slips back on her high heels and turns her back to the camera as her hips swaying back and forth during her short hike to the shower facilities is captured for only the members of the site to see.

“Did you know that you still have cum dripping down your leg?” Wally asked.

“I’m not surprised. My body can only hold so much foreign fluid inside of it.” She joked as she turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat. “Now what did you mean by your “curious case” statement?”

“Well, you’re a black woman who only fucks white guys on set. People that don’t know you might draw the conclusion that you’re somehow bigoted against black men.”

“Well, let’s just ignore the fact that I’m happily married to a black man.”

“That’s why I said “people who don’t know you.”

“Well, allow me to clear this up once and for all. Hello everyone out there in porn watching land. I don’t dislike black men. I’m married to one and have been for ten years; I also have three black sons with him.”

“Is that the reason why you never shoot with any black guys?”

“Yes. I try to separate “this from that”. Shooting with men that look like my husband is a bit too close to the real thing.

“True, but in reality, no one in porn looks like your husband; who has won “most handsome adult film star” four years and running.”

“I know it…Man! If People magazine allowed people like us to enter their contest, he’d definitely be voted “sexiest man alive.”

“So, we mentioned that your husband is also in the business. For those that don’t know who he is, why don’t you tell us?”

“My husband, for those that don’t know; is Master D.”

“That’s right. Have you heard the rumor that he’s going to make a movie with a certain someone?”

“I don’t know. Who is it?”

“It’s Penny Pride, but we are going to bleep her name out. Mr. Cazale wants to keep this somewhat under wraps for the moment.”

“Her?” Diane responded incredulously, “but she doesn’t…”

“I know. We’ll see what happens.”

“Is that what they went off to discuss?”

“Possibly.”

At that very moment, another well known actor passes up the shower and inadvertently walks past the camera clad himself only in a towel and greets Diane and Wally.

“Well, as I live and breath! Ryan Madison. How are you love?” Diane asked the bald Caucasian man nicknamed the “cream-pie king” for his amazing refract abilities that allow him to unleash a load inside of his female costar, take about a thirty second breather, start humping her again and release yet a second load of his baby making seed deep into her womb.

“Doing great, you sexy ebony thing you. How’s Damon?”

Diane shoots Wally a glance. He picks up on it and responds, “don’t worry, we will edit his name out.”

That’s when Ryan realized that he had stumbled onto an active shoot. “Oh shit! I apologize.”

“No, no it’s fine. We wanted this to go exactly like it’s going. Your arrival couldn’t have been more timely.” Wally assured him.

“So where are you coming from Ryan? Who’d you put the “money shot” inside of today?” Diane asked.

“Maserati and I just finished a scene together.”

“Maserati? Isn’t she pregnant?”

“Don’t look at me.” He joked. She was already “knocked up” when I planted my seed.”

“You are such a bad boy.”

“By the way. Tell your husband that we miss him at the Wednesday night poker game. If he ever wants to come back, we still have a seat waiting for him.”

“I’ll…let him know.”

“Talk to you guys later. And Diane? I’m looking forward to the next time we work together.”

“I’ll make certain that i’m fully stocked up on birth control.”

“It’s so surreal.” Wally said as they watched Ryan walk off the set.

“What is?” Diane asked as she shut the shower off.

“That the general public doesn’t realize that for a lot of us, porn is just a job. We lead normal lives outside of the camera’s view.”

“Tell me about it. I attend church, we are on a bowling team. Damon golf’s, fishes, and plays tennis…

We are normal people who just so happen to fuck other people for a living.”

“I think we have enough footage. Don’t worry Diane. We are going to edit out any uses of your real names. Your anonymity will remain protected.”

“That’s all I ask Wally. Well, this was fun.”

“It was indeed. So, this is “Wally Wally” signing off on another Cazale production. Wave bye bye to the camera Vivian Starr.”

“Bye bye camera.” She said as she toweled off.

Part two…

“Why did you leave the set?” Diane asked her husband Damon as the two drove to Chuck E Cheese pizza in their black 2022 Panamera Porsche in order to rendezvous with their three sons and the boy's caregiver, Diane’s twin sister Dionne.

“I didn’t want to honey. But your boss needed a word with me.” Damon explained.

“It frightened me when I looked around and didn’t see you. I thought that maybe you had gotten angry and stormed off the set or something.”

Damon reached over and placed his right hand on her bare thigh. “Now why would I be angry with you? Our pact is our pact.”

Diane began to cackle with laughter.

“Did I say something funny?” A confused Damon asked.

After containing herself, Diane explained. “You sounded like Marlo Stansfield from “The Wire”. Remember when he shouted “my name IS my name!”

Damon laughed as well, he hoped this lightheartedness would continue when he shared the entirety of his conversation with her that he had with Sal Cazale.

Well, almost the entirety…

Who ever dreamed that when faced with the choice of telling your wife that you have to fuck another woman versus having to share with her that you owe $75,000 to a mobbed-up bookie; the former would win the day?

The roller coaster ride that is the life of an adult film star…

“But you’re right about the “pact”, I don’t have to remind you that when we got married, we agreed that as long as we stayed in the industry, you’d always support me by being present for my shoots, and I’d do likewise for you.

So what was so important that caused you to violate that agreement?” She asked.

Damon somewhat reluctantly relayed his earlier conversation with Sal Cazale. The only part he omitted is the portion regarding Sal covering his gambling debt to Tony Fishtank.

And just as he had suspected. The thought of him shooting with Penny Pride didn’t even faze Diane.

“So, if I’m understanding this…behind my back, you worked out a deal where I never shoot with Jack again? And you did this without asking me?” Diane asked in a highly annoyed voice.

“It was Caz’s idea.”

“Oh? It’s “Caz” now?”

“I didn’t think you’d get upset.”

Diane picked up her phone and placed
a mock call.

“Hello “Caz”? Yes this is Vivian Starr. I don’t want my husband making any movies with Penny Pride. Yes, that’s right. I don’t want him fucking her in front of the camera. Ok thanks. Buh bye.

Do you see the violation now?”

“Diane, you look so uncomfortable when you shoot with him.”

“I am uncomfortable! But he’s the biggest damn star in the business. My work with him helps to keep us and our offspring enjoying the good life.

Our children attend the best private Christian school in all of California. We have three other high end whips sitting in our driveway. We have a full time nanny that we can actually trust.

And we are a long damn way from the streets of Compton where we both hailed from. And if I have to occasionally spread my legs for that annoying, obsessed piece of shit in order to keep us where we are then I’m willing to do it.

Every woman you work with wants you to propose marriage to them while they’re still wiping your spunk out of their eyes, but I don’t go behind your back and tell Lexington Steel not to allow you to work with them anymore.”

“Sigh, you’re correct. I’m…very sorry.”

“Fuck it my love. You did what you felt was best for us. Now please, tell me more about this meeting you’re going to get with the comic book exec?”

Interlude: San Quentin…a parole board hearing.

29 year old Devonte’ Hartsfield has just finished making his case before the board of pardons and parole. Ten years he’s been biding his time in one of the toughest penal institutions in the country.

Every year he’s been turned down flat, the following year he tried again.

He wasn’t certain if his new gambit of acting as if he didn’t care if he was paroled would work or not. It worked for Morgan “Ellis Boyd” Freeman in the movie “The Shawshank Redemption”, but that was just a movie wasn’t it?

He read books in the prison library on being a salesman as well as on human psyche. He found that the easiest way to get what you wanted from someone was to act like you didn’t really want it or that it had no value to you.

He noticed it in the chow line. If you acted as if you only wanted one cookie, even the most racist aryan brotherhood member on the serving line would give you at least five of them.

When he was on the outside, he recalled that whenever he’d act like he didn’t want to fuck a woman, she’d throw herself at him.

Consuming the information in the books that he had read confirmed to him that there was something to that theory.

Hell, what did he have to lose? He had repeatedly tried the, “I now realize the error of my ways and I’ve reformed and found Jesus” route but it never worked.

So he’d stride confidently back to his cell and await word to see if he can end his original 25 year sentence within a few weeks.
End of interlude…

Part three

“When my husband and I have sex, we aren’t Vivian Starr and Master D. We don’t change positions a million times, he doesn’t shove his dick up my ass, nor does he cum in my face. In other words, inside the confines of our own safe space, we don’t make porn, we make love!” Diane’s reply during a recent interview with Adult Video News or AVN.

The night after the “Nurse Wanda” shoot inside of the Hartsfield “mini mansion” in Beverly Hills.

There were no “Dick Biggs” or “Penny Prides” inside of the confines of their safe space. Their California king only had room for two. Before either caressed the amply nude body of the other, they kissed. They kissed long, deep, and passionately. Yes, she would suck his cock, bringing him to brink of completion before backing off just to bring him there again. Yes he would run his tongue back and forth across her clit, bringing her to back breaking orgasmic bliss to the point where she pleaded with him to relent.

Yes he’d slowly slide his stiff cock into her already throughly used twat while muffling her screams of pleasure by pressing his mouth against hers.

Yes she’d “reassure” him that it’s still “his pussy”, as he slowly worked his way in and out of it, all the while knowing that he had to, on some level, still be reeling somewhat from that day’s earlier events.

This was their ritual. This was their pact. Whenever either of them shot a movie, the other would be on scene the entire time, taking all of the hot naked action in, and also taking it in stride, and then the night after, they’d “reclaim” their respective spouse by engaging in a nearly all night sex fest.

While they didn’t “fuck like pornstars” at home, a lot of what they had been trained to do in front of the camera came in extremely handy in helping to facilitate their “fuck-a-thon.”

Diane would not officially “tap out”. Instead, she’d lightly rub his back which indicated to Damon that she had indeed “had enough”.

He unleashed a load inside of his wife that would have put all earlier seven loads to shame. Her last orgasm was her biggest one of the night. Her body locked up for about a half of a second, and she then went into what from the outside might have seemed like an epileptic seizure.

He held her tightly until the orgasmic shockwaves coursing throughout her entire body subsided.

She fell asleep almost immediately in his arms. Mission accomplished! Diane’s pulsating black pussy once more belonged to Damon.

At least until “duty” called for him to relinquish it once again…

The next day at the Malibu Exotic Car rental company.

“Please have a seat Mr. Cazale. Mr. Carbone will be with you shortly.” The plump Hispanic receptionist explained to Sal Cazale as he awaited his meeting with financial backer and head of the Los Angeles mafia, Alphonse “Alley Boy” Carbone.

Long before Alley Boy had become a La Cosa Nostra boss, he had grown up in the Little Italy section of Manhattan. He and Sal had met at a Manhattan social club when Sal had accompanied his father to the club for a meeting with Alley boy’s uncle; a powerful Capo in one of the five families.

The two became fast friends in their youth and started pulling scores together like gambling, hi-jacking trucks out of Kennedy Airport and shaking down shop owners who weren’t already under the protection of other families.

Sal played the role of “Frank Costello” to Alley Boy’s “Lucky Luchiano” very well. The only thing was Sal could never be a made guy. His birth father was Irish but his mother remarried after his father died of a sudden heart attack, to a mob associate named Luigi Cazale, who adopted the boy and gave him his last name.

But because Sal wasn’t 100% Italian, his being inducted into a crime family was no more than a pipe dream. Not even the “glorified crew” out in Jersey, where a lot of New York mob wannabes would migrate to in an attempt to get their buttons would prick the finger of a man who’s paternal ancestors didn’t hail from either ‘the boot” or the Sicilian island that it appeared poised to “kick” on the map.

Alley Boy was first sent out to Las Vegas to look after the interests of the family out west. The west coast mob, after years of complacency, neglect, apathy, and domination by other ethnic criminal groups and federal law enforcement had spiraled into complete disarray.

Within three years, Alley Boy Carbone had taken control and reshaped and restructured the family into a bludgeoning powerhouse not seen since the heyday of the prohibition era of Al Capone’s Chicago outfit.