Free Insatiable: Porn — a Love Story by Asa Akira

talent pool in a big pile—these are the B- and C-listers. They are the “filler” male performers, who don’t fit into any mold. You see them randomly on set, and work with them a few times throughout your career, but they aren’t particularly memorable. The only time you hear their names is when they are dating someone more famous than themselves, or something crazy happens to them, like their dick breaks when a girls slams down on it too hard during reverse cowgirl.
    Finally, at the very bottom are the blowbang guys. Also known as “mopes,” they primarily do blowbangs and gangbangs. I’m talking about the kind of scenes where there is one girl and fifty-plus guys. The “creep” factor is abundantly in play here. Almost guaranteed to be chain smokers, they have prepaid phones and take the bus to location. It’s not totally uncommon for them to be in and out of jail; nor is it uncommon for the director to lend them money to get their required monthly STD test. No one aspires to be a mope. It’s just somewhere you end up.
    Aside from the three guys I had chosen to fuck me, the guys for the blowbang scene that day had been told in advance that there would be no non-oral sex happening. But, of course—when they saw the chosen three fucking me, they assumed all bets were off. Imagine what it’s like for a 105-pound girl to try to control eleven juiced-up guys. Now imagine that all those guys are on Viagra, and the girl is on the floor getting railed in her ass. It was a constant merry-go-round of subtly pushing, awkwardly crawling away, turning around to make sure the same three guys were still fucking me. Mind you, this is all while sucking eleven cocks. All while keeping everyone involved. Group scenes are not a selfish sport. There’s no “i” in “blowbang.” When the camera is rolling and that magic thing happens where every single guy is hard, you don’t want to break the momentum and risk guys losing their wood by showing any kind of hostility. Especially the blowbang guys, who aren’t as strong performers.
    That day, I left the set patting myself on the back for somehow managing to get through the scene only fucking my three original guys, and all without hurting any feelings. I don’t know which I was more proud of: my self-control, or my ability to coyly avoid fucking eight guys, all while keeping them happily engaged in the scene. Smiling all the way home, I ran a silent conversation in my head in which one Me referred to the other Me as a “master of the fine art of the blowbang.”
    A week later Sam called me. “Hey, dude. I’m editing. You want me to cut out the Snoop part, right?” I had no idea what she was talking about.
    “Whachu mean?”
    “The blowbang. The part where D.Snoop’s fucking you. It’s only a couple minutes long but he’d make our fourth guy. You only wanted three of our friends to have sex, correct?”
    I was shocked. I was paying such close attention! I turned around every time a dick had entered me from behind to check who it was, I was sure of it.
    “Snoop fucked me? Are you fucking joking me?” I couldn’t help but laugh. That sneaky motherfucker! “Yah, cut it out, please. I can’t believe he was fucking me and I didn’t know!”
    “Hey, you didn’t know, it doesn’t count!” I mean she was right. If she had never told me, I never would have known. This was too funny. How did he just slip in?
    “It’s the Curious Case of D.Snoop .” I joked.
    “ The Haunting of Asa Akira .” Sam caught on.
    “ Snoop the Friendly Ghost . Wait, no. The Invisible Man starring D.Snoop!” Bam, two for one.
    “ Phantom of the Blowbang .” And the winner is Sam.
    I have to say, of all the slutty moments I’ve had in my life, this has to be top-three status. After getting off the phone, I contemplated telling Toni. Would he be mad about it?
    At the end of the day, no matter the context, the person I want to share the events of my day with is Toni. There was already