The Domestic Life of a Porn Star

Porn stars are different from you and me. They have more sex.

The gangbang? Candy is the new record holder, taking the title from Houston in October, with 742 men penetrating her in one way or another. Last I had heard, Annabelle Chong had the record, but apparently there've been five or six new world champions since. "I wasn't even sore!" Candy exclaims, her voice low and loud. "They stick it in, it counts. Head counts. Guys literally came up, put it in for two seconds, and got pulled off for the next guy. Normally, they would have had a little more time, but because the fire marshal was there . . ."

Bill breaks in. He always talks in exclamations. "The guy got the wrong permits! We were supposed to get married at the gangbang, but because the cops broke it up, we couldn't! There were, like, 30 cop cars! She ran into the makeup room and put her clothes on, and two huge bodyguards ran her down the stairs and into the limo!"

Candy and Bill got married in her parents' back yard instead, with a simple Hawaiian theme. Bill's grandparents and most of his aunts and uncles boycotted the wedding. They knew what she did, she says, and loved her anyway, until friends and neighbors saw her on Howard Stern. "Howard was wonderful to me," Candy says wistfully. "He was so nice! I didn't have to get naked; he didn't ask to see my boobs or anything!"

The publicity they could not forgive. But crowned in orchids, she looked lovely.

Together a little more than a year, though they've known each other for 10, the two are homebodies. Candy says she likes being domestic, and I believe her. Later, she will dawdle for an hour in the bathroom getting ready to go out, but when she's done, everything will have been returned to its proper place. You wouldn't even know she'd been in there. She likes to cook, she says. Bill and Natalie both exclaim what a good cook she is. What in her repertoire does Bill like best? He thinks about it for a second before his eyes light up, and he says, "She makes really good nachos!"

"Everything she makes is good," contends Natalie.

They smoke tons of dope, but they only party three or four times a year—"at the most!" says Bill. "That's the reason we moved from LA back to Huntington! The tweaking! You get caught up in that whole LA party scene. Every night, someone has an orgy. Girls on sets will lock themselves in the bathroom and smoke crack."

"I have a friend who couldn't work anywhere that wasn't in the vicinity of a methadone clinic," Candy says. "These girls have stick bodies, no butts and huge fake boobs. It's not healthy." But Candy and Bill will tell a tattoo-artist friend later that day that they're thinking of moving back to the Valley. "You can get a five-bedroom house, with a pool and Jacuzzi, on an acre of land, for $1,200 per month," Bill will say. He will not mention the party scene.

Some porn stars, oddly, live in Irvine and Mission Viejo. But most stick to Huntington Beach: out of only about 300 to 500 people working in porn at any one time, Shelby and Pat Myne, Regan Starr, Dayton Rains, and Billy Glide, among others, live here. But Dayton has been off the radar for a while.

"People just disappear," Bill says. "She flaked on our bachelor party, flaked on our wedding, and we haven't heard from her since. Her number's disconnected. . . ."

"We used to talk to her every day," Candy says sadly.

Nonetheless, Huntington Beach is the perfect antidote to the outside world's condemnation. A caller to a radio program may scream at her, "You're a whore! You're a whore!" But around here, she's well-insulated. Porn stars are at the top of the local entertainment heap, and Candy can deflect the screaming with a well-defended speech about "personal preference."

Go ahead. Tell her that most women feel porn stars give men license to look at all women as just three-holed fuckdolls. Candy will deftly announce, "I'm almost always the aggressor! How can that be demeaning or degrading to women?"

And around Huntington Beach, people buy it. Porn stars are sought after to give clubs more juice—Club Rubber alone sometimes feels as if it has more porn stars than paying customers, and in fact that's where Bill and Candy had their joint bachelor party. Bands like (hed)pe flaunt porn stars and strippers as arm candy. Daimon's sushi bar, in nearby Sunset Beach, is known and loved for its porn-star clientele. Just try getting up to the sushi bar on a Thursday, Friday or Saturday night. You can't swing a raw fish without smacking a plastic breast.

Back at their apartment, the neighbor kid is hanging out front with Natalie. He is drinking a tall Bud from a paper bag. "Nobody's really at work around here," Candy explains. "Everyone's home."

"Where we live," Bill says, "you're either a stripper or a drug dealer or you own a clothing company."

"I know a lot of girls who are 18, and their dream is to become a stripper," Candy says. "[Costa Mesa-based clothing company] Black Flys are gods down here; they made the whole scene in this area. Everyone's a snowboarder or a skater, and they get everything for free, and that's all they need." She continues with a point I have never heard raised, and I'm surprised: "Plus, I think it's hard around here to get a real job."

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