Listen to this interview I did with Scott for his Probably True podcast. It's from pre-Corona times. I talk about my many misadventures, including the self-realisations that come after taking too much Viagra, and how having a porn star for a boyfriend isn't all it's cracked up to be. More from Probably True: probablytruepodcast.com
I’ve fucked and sucked with the best of them: porn idols, porn newbies, and everyone in between. Some of them genuinely made me cream. I’ve worked with talented photographers, directors, and models; I’ve also worked with unprofessional, egotistical weirdos.
I’ve been hard, heart-warmed, sweaty, and satisfied, as well as awkward, uncomfortable, and sad. Making porn can be rewarding, sure, but it can also be arduous, disruptive and samey. When all’s said and done, I was having fun, but I've learned a lot about myself along the way and now the tides have changed.
THE CHANGING FACE OF PORN
There’s no denying that porn is wrapped up in social media - and we all know it's a crowded arena. Spend ten minutes on Twitter and you'll see, it's filled with what's probably an unhealthy amount of cock and, for models, it’s extremely demanding: replies, likes, retweets, tags, and faves... only for everything to get old in record speed.
There's content from years ago, decades ago, that's hot as fuck and now goes unnoticed or forgotten. There are artsy creators trying to change the game today who don't get a look in because, by this time next week, their work’s already expired.
Social media marketing is a pretty well established field: to make the best of it, you really must live it, breathe it, and even tiktok it. In observing those who’ve tamed its algorithmic ways, I’ve realised that one can carry on working harder and harder, fucking further up the food chain, and raw-dogging everyone you’ve ever dreamed of... only to have to carry on fucking regardless.
There's no endgame. You either do it ‘til you can't or quit while you're ahead. Porn isn’t so much about making things any more, it’s a lifestyle.
'IN THESE UNPRECEDENTED TIMES'
With clubs shut and social distancing in force, we’ve come to realise our dependencies, our comforts, and the facade of porn. Who self-identifies as a star? Whose personalities have flourished in lockdown? Who’s been rebranded a racist?
We’ve created enough porn to last us another ten pandemics, so I wonder: why do we film these countless one-offs in dimly lit bedrooms with people we're unsure of? Why are we prostrating ourselves in performative retellings of the last time we saw a guy get slapped or spat on?
We fashion ourselves on corporate brands, too, and we’re expected to act as PR agents. We’re urged to comment on the latest fads, trends, and crises. And with all this in mind, how can I go about uploading photos of my bum hole to the same platform Donald Trump threatens to shoot his own citizens?
I worry: should my cock and balls be juxtaposed against the horrors of the world? Are our bizarre echo-chambers - stuffed with one-upmanship, bitesize nightmares, and habitual cream pies - harming our perception of reality? There’s little room for nuance, no time for patience, yet the hamster-wheel keeps on turning.
BUSINESS DOING PLEASURE WITH YOU
Moving forward, I'm not going to shy away from opportunities, artists, and shoots that resonate with me, but I’m also not going to be churning out any more of my own content (daily, weekly, or otherwise). I just no longer have the patience or the temperament to worry about angles or the audience. It’s a boner-killer.
I want to share moments with people who spark something in me, my body, and my mind. So, I’ll use up my backlog of vids through ‘til August and, don’t worry, my archived content won’t disappear. I’ll try to write more here and say hi from time to time on social (I’ll even post thirst traps), but I’m out of the game.
Thank you for enjoying my content these past few years. I enjoyed making it and I had some wild adventures. I’m especially grateful to those of you who talked to me, left comments, drew me, and took an active interest in how I’m feeling. Never say never, but for now... good night. 👋
I did a 24-hour Q+A session on my Instagram page last year. Here's a bumper compilation of all my answers. Follow orson.deane.
Bad sex gets in the way of positive emotions and negative feelings get in the way good sex. The former is generally understood, but the latter not so much. If we don't feel connected with our partners, we won't be having the best sex.
As an adult entertainer (in that I am an adult who enjoys entertaining), I've noticed performers' ability to compartmentalize. This seems to be a magnification of what's happening to gay men generally, as sex now seems to take place in a different head space to discussions around mental health and fulfilling relationships.
Rather than engaging in sex as something all-encompassing, shared between two people (this could be a phenomenal dickdown, not necessarily romantic), more and more guys are approaching sex as if it were a kind of performance.
DOING IT LIVE
This is no more apparent than in sex clubs - where 'being seen to fuck' becomes a major turn on - and during live sex shows. Some club-goers dismiss these shows as being too rehearsed, but they are rarely ever rehearsed.
Sometimes, performers aren't interested in each other beyond the paycheck. It's not always easy to spot since the facial expressions associated with theatrical sex work are now commonplace among attendees too. Even if performers do fancy each other, mismanagement and organisational upsets might throw them off.
Personally, I can have a lot of fun doing sex shows, but when I broke up with my boyfriend a week ahead of our performance together, I found myself struggling. Needless to say, my emotions got tangled up and the show was anti-climactic .
Later, I realised I'd learned some lessons: a) think very carefully before arranging a sex show with someone you love, b) you can never be certain as to why someone's not 'feeling it', and c) my head is still connected to my dick. I don't want that to change.
WILL FUCK FOR FANS
Homemade sex videos were once near-impossible to watch due to poor camera work and bad lighting, which was hot in its own way. Now, Onlyfans and similar platforms have brought about a new genre: fake sex made to look 'real'.
I won't go so far as to dismiss all of this content as a pretense, but a large proportion of it is. What's going through a model's mind as they enact their viewers' fantasies with a queue of fellow porn actors? Often: the steaminess of their sex face, the arch in their back, the elimination of positions in which they look fat. They're going through the motions.
The presumption that these adventures are never staged is misplaced. Some boys don't have sex at all unless they can monetize it (cum is a finite resource). Which begs the question, when does the razzmatazz get left behind?
SEX BY NUMBERS
Endless tweets from your favourite pornstars announcing they've just fucked each other (or someone new) might make you think you're not getting enough action, but instead of asking 'who's fucking who?', ask 'who's actually enjoying themselves?'.
Am I alone in thinking the quality of sex (or its perceived quality) decreases the more you have it? Whereas, the more I engage in other people's quirks, the better I tend to connect with them - which can happen on set too - and leads to a more cohesive sexscapade. It's the old cliché: quality over quantity.
When we let go of our hangups and seek fun rather than just sex, our experiences become intimate and ravenous. The more we pretend emotions shouldn't be involved, the more they rebel against us (when we could least do with the hassle).
Passion is not a commodity. We shouldn't deny it to ourselves just because it's harder to film. We're all human, so we should ask ourselves: why do something if we're not having fun?