Read Online Porn Star by Laurelin Paige, Sierra Simone - Free Book Online
Authors: Laurelin Paige, Sierra Simone
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open up the UCLA website for the first time in months.
“You can do this,” I say out loud to myself. “Just go through the list and pick something. Anything. One thing that interests you.” There are so many things that appeal to me. This shouldn’t be that hard.
But after only a couple of clicks around the site, I end up on a page that shows the five different divisions of study available: The College of Letters and Science, The School of the Arts and Architecture, School of Engineering and Applied Science, School of Nursing, School of Theater, Film, and Television.
And then I freeze because I’m equally drawn to each of the areas listed. Science? Love it. Architecture? I’m game. Nursing? My parents are doulas—I’ve been raised to be a caretaker. Film? That’s totally what I’m working in now—if porn counts, that is, and it does in my book. So how the hell am I supposed to pick just one career path when I can’t even narrow it down to a single course of study?
I shut my laptop in a panic, but perk up when I hear my phone buzzing on the kitchen counter where I left it after dinner. Hoping the message is from Logan, I hurry over to check and respond.
But it’s not Logan, and it’s not a text. It’s a phone call and the caller ID says it’s one of the producers I met at Vida’s party—LaRue Hagen.
LaRue Hagen isn’t someone I’d usually take a call from. He works for Sinner’s Playpen, a hardcore heterosexual porn site, not my scene. But since my parents’ tarot reading suggested I be more open to new opportunities, however, I gave him my number.
As I answer, I pray that I’m not wasting my time.
“Devi Dare. I’m so glad to finally get you on the phone,” LaRue says, as though he’s been trying to reach me for days and not just for three rings. “Got a minute to talk?”
“I have exactly that,” I say, though I have no plans for the evening. “So I hope you have your pitch prepared.”
“Damn. A woman who plays hardball. I like it.” LaRue hasn’t been around as long as some of the old-school producers, but he’s not a newbie either. He’s an astute businessman who has also managed to stay innovative and politically correct. If I did decide to venture further into the world of porn, he’s one of the few producers I’d trust.
“Fortunately,” he says smoothly, “I do have my pitch prepared because it’s not a pitch, but fact. We at Sinner’s Playpen have watched your career in girl-girl porn take off over the last several months. If you think no one was noticing, you’re wrong. We sincerely believe that if you crossed over into traditional heterosexual porn, ‘P in V’ so to speak, you’d take the world by storm.”
I stifle a stunned laugh. I am pleased with my rise in the industry over the last year, but this guy is blowing things out of proportion. My paychecks certainly don’t reflect someone whose career has “taken off.”
Though models and lesbian porn stars don’t make much money even when they are successful.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “That’s awfully presumptuous, don’t you think, Mr. Hagen?”
“It’s LaRue. And not presumptuous—perceptive. I’ve been in this biz for a decade, Devi. I’ve watched many a star rise and fall, and, trust me, I know what kind of trajectory your career is going to take from here.”
I lean against the doorframe of my galley kitchen. “I’m flattered, LaRue. I’ve also got to be honest with you—though I’m currently entertaining the possibility of doing some light heterosexual porn, I’d still like the majority of my work to be girl-on-girl. I’m definitely not looking to be a star.”
“No one’s ever looking to be a star.”
The image of The Star from my parents’ tarot deck flashes in my mind then disappears. It renders me momentarily speechless.
LaRue steps into the silence. “Tell you what—our site is limited on the femme porn, but I think I can line up a few jobs for
“You can do this,” I say out loud to myself. “Just go through the list and pick something. Anything. One thing that interests you.” There are so many things that appeal to me. This shouldn’t be that hard.
But after only a couple of clicks around the site, I end up on a page that shows the five different divisions of study available: The College of Letters and Science, The School of the Arts and Architecture, School of Engineering and Applied Science, School of Nursing, School of Theater, Film, and Television.
And then I freeze because I’m equally drawn to each of the areas listed. Science? Love it. Architecture? I’m game. Nursing? My parents are doulas—I’ve been raised to be a caretaker. Film? That’s totally what I’m working in now—if porn counts, that is, and it does in my book. So how the hell am I supposed to pick just one career path when I can’t even narrow it down to a single course of study?
I shut my laptop in a panic, but perk up when I hear my phone buzzing on the kitchen counter where I left it after dinner. Hoping the message is from Logan, I hurry over to check and respond.
But it’s not Logan, and it’s not a text. It’s a phone call and the caller ID says it’s one of the producers I met at Vida’s party—LaRue Hagen.
LaRue Hagen isn’t someone I’d usually take a call from. He works for Sinner’s Playpen, a hardcore heterosexual porn site, not my scene. But since my parents’ tarot reading suggested I be more open to new opportunities, however, I gave him my number.
As I answer, I pray that I’m not wasting my time.
“Devi Dare. I’m so glad to finally get you on the phone,” LaRue says, as though he’s been trying to reach me for days and not just for three rings. “Got a minute to talk?”
“I have exactly that,” I say, though I have no plans for the evening. “So I hope you have your pitch prepared.”
“Damn. A woman who plays hardball. I like it.” LaRue hasn’t been around as long as some of the old-school producers, but he’s not a newbie either. He’s an astute businessman who has also managed to stay innovative and politically correct. If I did decide to venture further into the world of porn, he’s one of the few producers I’d trust.
“Fortunately,” he says smoothly, “I do have my pitch prepared because it’s not a pitch, but fact. We at Sinner’s Playpen have watched your career in girl-girl porn take off over the last several months. If you think no one was noticing, you’re wrong. We sincerely believe that if you crossed over into traditional heterosexual porn, ‘P in V’ so to speak, you’d take the world by storm.”
I stifle a stunned laugh. I am pleased with my rise in the industry over the last year, but this guy is blowing things out of proportion. My paychecks certainly don’t reflect someone whose career has “taken off.”
Though models and lesbian porn stars don’t make much money even when they are successful.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “That’s awfully presumptuous, don’t you think, Mr. Hagen?”
“It’s LaRue. And not presumptuous—perceptive. I’ve been in this biz for a decade, Devi. I’ve watched many a star rise and fall, and, trust me, I know what kind of trajectory your career is going to take from here.”
I lean against the doorframe of my galley kitchen. “I’m flattered, LaRue. I’ve also got to be honest with you—though I’m currently entertaining the possibility of doing some light heterosexual porn, I’d still like the majority of my work to be girl-on-girl. I’m definitely not looking to be a star.”
“No one’s ever looking to be a star.”
The image of The Star from my parents’ tarot deck flashes in my mind then disappears. It renders me momentarily speechless.
LaRue steps into the silence. “Tell you what—our site is limited on the femme porn, but I think I can line up a few jobs for
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