The Hardest (Working) Man in Showbiz by Ron Jeremy Page A

home, right in front of him, after he had just cooked me a delicious steak dinner.
    As Bo and I were screwing, my girlfriend joined Traynor on the couch and tried to return the favor by blowing him. But as skilled as she was in the oral arts, he politely declined her advances. He was more interested in watching Bo and me have sex than in doing anything himself.
    After a few minutes of riding my cock like she was drilling for oil, Bo looked back up at Traynor and asked him, “Chuck, could Ron put it in my ass?”
    “Sure, baby,” he said, like she had asked for nothing more bizarre than to freshen up her drink.
    So I changed positions, knelt on the floor, and began fucking her ass. * I was having the time of my life, all the while shooting sympathetic glances at my date. I couldn’t help but feel badly for her. She was stuck on the couch, watching the two of us go at it without getting to enjoy any of the action. But we were in Traynor’s house, and, as his guests, we both felt obligated to follow his rules.
    When we had cum and cleaned up, we thanked Traynor for a lovely evening and said our good nights. As we were leaving, I nearly tripped over a dog sleeping near the door. It was an elderly German shepherd (I think) that appeared to be at least ten years old. I squatted down to pet him, and as I was rubbing his stomach, a horrible thought occurred to me.
    “Is this, uh…?” I could barely get the words out. “Is this your dog?”
    “No,” Traynor said with an evil sneer. “It is now, but it belonged to Linda.”
    “Linda as in Linda Lovelace?”
    “That’s the one.”
    I just stared at him. Was he really telling me what I thought he was telling me?
    “It’s not…?” I asked. My face had gone white.
    “It sure is,” he said. “That, my friend, is Linda Lovelace’s son.”
    Chuck had a sick sense of humor. But in all actuality, it was the grandchild of the dog Linda slept with for the porn loops. Strange but true.

I earned a brown belt in Kung Fu—here I am jumping off sand.

THE HUMAN OUROBOROS
    “Can you really suck your own cock?”
    It’s not the kind of thing you expect to be asked by a pretty young woman just minutes after meeting her. But among porn actors, who were likely to be seeing one anothers’ genitals before they had uttered so much as a hello, I suppose the normal rules of social decorum don’t apply.
    The year was 1980, and I’d just arrived on the set of Co-Ed Fever , which was being shot at a luxurious mansion just north of San Francisco. Even by Hollywood standards, it was a major production. We had a ridiculously large budget, a director who’d been plucked from the mainstream, and the most famous names in the business, like Vanessa Del Rio, Jamie Gillis, and John Leslie. But the producer, Harold Lime, had a thing for fresh faces. So for every legitimate star in attendance, there were at least three young beauties just getting their start in adult films.
    And every one of them, it seemed, already knew about me, the kid from New York.
    “I’m sorry?” I asked my buxom interrogator. “What did you say again?”
    “I heard that you could give yourself head,” she repeated. “Is that for real?”
    I raised an eyebrow. “Where’d you hear that?” It was a rhetorical question. I knew damn well where she’d heard it. I’d started the rumor myself. I should’ve known that it’d be only a matter of time before it came back to bite me in the ass.
    “Is that a yes or no?” She was persistent, I’d give her that.
    “Maybe,” I said coyly.
    She wasn’t going to get an answer out of me quite so easily. We continued to stare at each other, our eyes locked in a meaningful gaze, like a flirtatious Mexican standoff. I could’ve just come out and told her what she was clearly dying to know, but I wanted to toy with her a bit longer.
    “Can I see?” she finally asked, lowering her voice to a whisper.
    I looked around the room to make sure that nobody was listening.