What It’s Like To Be A 21-Year-Old Male Porn Star

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Image via @ManuallFocus and @EliteDaily

I love my dick.

I can say that with complete and utter conviction because I know I wouldn’t lie to myself. I love my dick because my dick makes me happy. He stands tall and proud and delivers nothing but pleasure.

My dick is my best companion and my most trusted navigator. He leads me toward the greatest places known to man. He brings me joy and happiness, and it is my duty in life to keep him satisfied. I provide and care for my dick, because without him I would not exist. Who am I, and what the shit am I talking about?

My name is Logan Pierce, and I’m the guy whose face you avoid looking at while watching porn.

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Image via @ManuallFocus and @EliteDaily

Yes, I’m a porn star. That’s right, me, a 5’6’’ 140-pound white boy from the suburbs. I play dedicated boyfriends and well-to-do husbands. I play douchebags and sinful stepsons. I get hard with the passing wind and can cum on command. I have sex with MILFs and college freshmen alike on a daily basis. Collectively, I have had sex with over 350 women in the last three years. And no, I didn’t have to do gay porn first as a rite of passage in order to get to where I am today. Not. Even. Once.

The next logical question you may ask is, “How did you get into porn?” Or, more specifically, “Can you get me into porn?” The answer is an indubitable, “No.”

And no, I can’t get you a date with Carter Cruise either, so stop asking me.

But don’t worry, there is still hope for you yet. See, porn appeals to all walks of life. In this business, performers run the gamut. Some of us are aspiring actresses or embittered washed up actors. Some of us were once upon a time schoolteachers or defense attorneys. Some of us are astrology enthusiasts and Earth-first hippies. Some of us are adrenaline junkies and some of us are just regular junkies. It is porn, after all. We don’t discriminate.

Since the dawn of Tube sites, the internet has granted anyone and everyone a fair and equal opportunity to become the world’s next porn star, so get out there, you little animals, and start fucking on camera.

Oh, right — my story, my cum-uppance, if you will — the story of how I came to be and how I popped my cherry.

Well, when I was 19 years old, I had a mild porn obsession. I am a product of social media, after all, and was fairly coherent with navigating the internet, so obviously porn was easy to find. Maybe a little too easy. The internet is just stained with porn. It’s almost impossible to escape. Watching porn became a normal and everyday occurrence in my life. I began to observe and learn the names of popular porn stars and studios. I would do research and discover porn talent agency websites, and I noticed that every single one of them offered visitors the opportunity to become porn stars themselves. (It’s a simple process, too. You just take some naked photos and attach them to a somewhat professional email and send them to a talent agency for scrutiny.)

When I was 21 years old, in my third year of studying film and media in college, I was offered a “study away” opportunity. The program offered students a chance to study in Los Angeles for the spring semester while interning at film studios. Sounded like a dream come true for a film major, so I took it.

In the meantime, I took some naked photos and attached them to a few emails that semi-professionally detailed my intentions to work as a porn performer, and sent them to all the agencies I was aware of. I did this out of sheer curiosity. I knew I had a big dick and I knew how to use it, and found myself to be a pretty attractive guy most of the time, so fuck it, why not? I guess I just wanted to see what could happen.

Most of my emails went entirely unnoticed. I did get a couple rejection emails, which normally might sound like a loss, but with a rejection letter, at least you know they considered you, even if just for a second. One agency did like my look, however, and saw me as a wise investment. They offered me my first gig.

I took a road trip out west to Los Angeles, where everyone believed I would be immersing myself in film history and the art of modern film and video production, interning at big studios, and networking with fellow aspiring filmmakers, and sure, they were sorta right, that was part of my plan, but I had an ulterior motive. I was going to become a porn star.

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Image via @tonyteamskeet and @teamskeet

I woke up in my bed at the Oakwoods Apartments located in Burbank, California, grabbed my suitcase pre-packed with every article of clothing I owned, skipped breakfast, and left room U-114 and headed toward the parking garage. The date was January 17, 2012. It was my second day in Los Angeles, the day I shot my first porno.

My first scene wasn’t a big sloppy gangbang or 15-guy Bukakke or anything nearly that repugnant. Instead, my first scene was a clean and simple amateur POV style boy-girl scene. It’s a pretty basic concept: the couple is given a small camcorder and they shoot approximately 25 minutes of B-roll. You know, flirting, laughing, small talk, etc. Then things start to get hot and clothes start to come off and BINGO! A seemingly impromptu sex tape is made.

I’ll admit I have since forgotten my co-star’s name, but I will never forget that she was a tall, caramel-toned, leggy blonde with big fake tits, luscious lips, long gaudy nails, and a head full of extensions. In other words, she was a whore.

I don’t know if I appeared nervous or if it was just formality, but the producer offered me a Viagra. I told him I didn’t think it was totally necessary, but he insisted. I decided there was no harm in taking out a boner insurance policy, if you will, so I took half a pill. (I later came to learn that dick pills are a necessary tool that every seasoned male performer has readily available in his arsenal, but I digress.)

We shot scenes all over the house – the staircase, the couch, the living room floor, the patio, the garden, I think she even blew me in the front seat of a car parked in the driveway. We shot everywhere.

I accidentally came early during the penultimate position. There was a brief moment of panic amongst the crew and myself. Channeling Dirk Diggler, I exclaimed, “I can do it again!” and proceeded to fuck her doggy style for another few minutes. Then I grabbed the camera, set up my pop-shot, and, much to everyone’s joyful acclaim, shot a big shower of cum all over her face and tits. Cut. Print.

There was something in the air. Everyone could sense I was special. There was a gleam in my eye. The producer promised to book me again. The chick even gave me her phone number. I grabbed my pithy $300 check and confidently drove back to the Oakwoods. And just like that, Logan Pierce was born.

For more musings from Logan, check out his blog.

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