Exxxotica

Yesterday I indulged in my annual sojourn to NJ Exxxotica, the expo of the adult film industry at a convention center in Edison. Loaded down with DVDs and Penthouse magazines for starlets to sign, I was one of those guys--charitably called "enthusiasts"--guys who wear Hawaiian shirts and have a perpetually slightly disheveled look, and have an encyclopedic knowledge of porn.

Almost right away I managed to get face time and autographs from the ladies I especially wanted to see: Stoya, Tori Black, Kagney Linn Karter, and Tory Lane, plus some new favorites like Alexis Texas and Faye Reagan (pictured here) a freckle-faced redhead, a type I have a particular weakness for. In fact, my most delightful encounter was with Miss Reagan, who signed my copy of This Ain't the Partridge Family XXX (a pornographic parody of the old TV show) "Come on get horny."

Beyond the stars, there's just a lovely Dionysian feel to the event, a large room full of women in skimpy outfits (girls from local strip clubs mingle throughout, riding on teeter-totters and swings and gyrating for tips) and booths offering the latest in everything from erotic lingerie to lube. When I was getting the signature of a young starlet named Alexis Ford, I told her it was like I had died and gone to heaven. "Do you mean hell?" she asked, trying to make a funny. But no, despite the attitudes of some of extremely religious folks, this is not hell. This is a place where sexuality is embraced and no judgements are made. The crowd, largely male and middle-aged, were docile and respectful. I feel safer in a group like this than I would at any Tea Party rally.

After a few hours of getting autographs I ducked into one of the many panels that were held. I sat in on one about girl-girl sex, moderated by Fleshbot editor Lux Alptraum. The takeaway I have from that is when Stoya was asked what the difference is between having sex with a woman on film and in one's private life. Her answer was quick and definitive: "In real life, no one yells at you for messing up your makeup with pussy juice."

The fantasy of getting an autograph from a porn star and finding that she inscribed her phone number did not happen to me, perhaps because of a big sign on the showroom: "No solicitation. No exchange of phone numbers. No prostitution." Yeah, that's the only reason that Faye Reagan didn't give me her phone number--she's a law-abiding citizen.