Alan Adrian

Alan Adrian's tale of lost love in the world of 1980s adult film.

 

 

The Lisa T. Story

by John A. Mozzer a.k.a. Alan "Spike" Adrian

"What's it like to fuck Seka?"

I wish I had a dollar for every time somebody asked me that over the years. Seka and I performed together one Saturday afternoon in July 1980 for a Limited Edition series loop.

We were both professionals. We did the job. She was good to work with. And, you know, that's really all I have to say.

But when a little-known sassy red-headed gal, named Lisa T., and I worked together, during my same stint in California that year, things got really, really hot! (I'm abbreviating her real name, because nobody in the business seems to remember her stage name.) After working with Seka, I felt content for having done a good day's work. But after working with Lisa, you know, I had that silly grin on my face for a long time.

At the location that day I worked with Seka, I met two innocent-looking young female newcomers -- Lisa, and her hot blonde friend Eva. I was hot for either one of them, or both of them. But I worked with only Seka that day; I didn't get to work with Lisa or Eva. Instead, I made my own moves on them. I listened to them talk enthusiastically about wanting more porn work, and I promised to help.

That was it for the day. They were absconded by some crew guys who offered them drugs. But my tactic paid off very quickly. After I helped them get interviews with a couple of producers, cinematographer Titus Moody hired Lisa and me to work together.

I arrived at Titus's Hollywood apartment on the morning of the shoot, later that July, according to plan. After I parked in front of his building and rang his bell, I saw Lisa drive by in her beat-up, old car. She parked down the road in a hotel parking lot and started walking back on the sidewalk. "Hi, John!" she said, as I walked towards her to meet her half way.

We met, and she kissed me.

Titus was now down at the entrance to his building with a woman from Vegas named Kaye, who would be doing porn for her first time. The four of us hopped into Titus's car and off we went towards Oxnard, about 45 minutes north of Los Angeles, outside the Los Angeles county border, where the "heat" wasn't so bad. (L.A. cops were busting porn shoots all the time in those days.) Lisa and I were warm and cozy together in the car.

We arrived at the location, a suite in the Oxnard Hilton Inn. The director, the late Hal Freeman, said to me, "I tried to reach you four or five times! After all, you've only done one loop. Something's wrong with that phone number you gave me." I hated knowing I missed work, but it was great to feel wanted.

Other people on the set were Julie, giddy and cute, anxious about doing her first porn film; Carmine, who did porn before but said she retired from it except for this one more time; Randy, bi-sexual and energetic, who brought Julie and Carmine; another male actor whose name I forgot; an assistant to help Titus with the camera and to shoot stills; Priscilla the make-up artist; and a male hair stylist, and that was it, I think.

Lisa and I got our make-up done, and all that, but it was still hours before Hal and Titus would actually be ready to start shooting anything. We were lusting for each other and we quickly neglected the concept of being well- behaved, patient talent on the set.

She played with my cock and kept it hard. "Look what I did," she exclaimed. And while my cock was forever pointing upwards, not dipping for even a split second, she continually kissed me.

"I hope you two don't fall in love!" Hal said.

All this made for a better, more intense movie sex scene. We were intensely hot and horny for the camera. The script was about coffee and cum. I had to screw her on a dining room table. She kept saying sweet things to me and it seemed as if she was having orgasm after orgasm. My position was slightly uncomfortable -- she was on her back on the table and I was standing up -- so I just kept fucking and fucking her without cumming. Soon, Hal and Titus seemed to be pissed off because they wanted the cum

Finally, I came, withdrawing and squirting all over Lisa's tits. That loop was finished. I stayed naked. And Lisa and I stayed "in love". We hung out in front of a television in a room away from the set. My prick remained stiff and she gave me head and we French kissed endlessly.

Later that afternoon, Lisa had to have her hair made up again for her scene in the next loop. We promptly messed it up again because we were still fooling around. So her hair had to be done over again one more time. She did a lesbian scene with Kaye.

I did another loop too, with beautiful Carmine and the male actor whose name I forgot. I got hard before the other actor, so I got to screw Carmine while the other fellow was getting head. Titus caught the action. Lisa watched and nodded her approval. Again, I fucked and fucked without cumming. Carmine seemed to have a real orgasm. (There was no reason for her to fake sounds of ecstasy when making silent loops.) Finally, I got so tired that I lost my erection before cumming. Hal quickly directed a fake cum shot, involving a pina-colota coconut mixture, and a reaction shot. The other actor, by this time really stiff, provided a real cum shot.

Early the next morning, back in Titus's neighborhood to pick up our cars, Lisa acted as if she was still lusting for me. While we were at her car and she had her engine running, she kept passionately kissing me until the last second before our departure. Ideally, we'd have slept together that night.

But she said she was going to stop somewhere to get some uppers, and then go home to bed because she had to get up the next morning for her bartending job at a hotel disco-restaurant. She worked hard for a living. I was beat, but her passion enlivened me.

"I'm sorry you have to leave," said Lisa, knowing that my full-time, "straight" job would soon bring me back to the East, where I came from. "I'll tell Eva what she missed," she said.

*  *  *  

It would be several months before I would see Lisa again. By August, I was stuck working in an office in a sterile corporate park in McLean, Virginia, transferred there by my employer. (Porn work never provided a living, just extra money and fun.) I spent hours fantasizing about being with her again. I thought of her as the woman who turned me on more than any other woman. I thought of our experience of making the movie together as the most long- term, continuous, intense turn-on I'd ever had.

She moved around a lot. She was difficult to keep track of. She usually didn't call back when she said she would. She stayed with her parents some of that time and I left messages on her father's answering machine. At least she sounded positive when I spoke about wanting to pick up where we left off. During one phone conversation, I said, "I'd like visit California and spend most of the time with you." And she said, "That makes me feel good."

Then she moved in with Eva in her cottage in Venice. Lisa and Eva were lovers. At least I had an address.

She sent a Christmas card. I wrote a lengthy letter soon after the holidays that she didn't answer. My next call was just in time. She was about to move out of Eva's cottage in a week because, she explained, Eva wanted the place to herself. "I started about five letters to you," she explained. "I gave up each time. I just can't write." She told me she had little money and planned to sleep in her car.

I suggested she call me frequently because I wouldn't be able to reach her. And finally, three weeks in advance, I reserved a World Airways round- trip, leaving early on a Friday evening in late March and returning the following Tuesday morning. The trip I planned was short in order not to push my luck with my employer. I gave my itinerary to her father over the phone.

Before the trip, Lisa called me on a Friday night, when I was in New York for the weekend. Now she was staying with a friend named Vivian in a hotel. "I need your help," she said. Not accustomed to being financially generous, I didn't catch on.

I gave her my flight information. "I'll pick you up at the airport," she promised.

I didn't make any other preparations for my short stay in California. While I was flying on the plane to Los Angeles, I got nervous. Could I depend on Lisa to pick me up at the airport? Had she and Vivian found a place to live by now? Would Lisa let me stay with her, or would I have to check into a hotel? Upon arrival, I encountered good news and bad news. Lisa was waiting for me at the terminal -- that was good. But much to my chagrin, a "friend" named Rich, or Rick, was with her. (I'll call him Rich.)

"Give me a kiss," she said. I listened to more good news. She planned virtually her entire weekend around me. She had taken off from work to pick me up. She had to work on Saturday from 4:00 to 9:00 p.m. as a bikini girl dancer. But she'd be free all Sunday and Monday and she planned to spend the time with me. And she and Vivian had found an apartment together in Van Nuys and I was invited to stay there.

Rich was the driver. Lisa wanted me to get into the front seat of his Trans Am. But I ignored her request and jumped into the back seat with her. I didn't understand, but her request was intended to prevent Rich from feeling like a chauffeur, with both of us in the back.

In the car, I was getting to know a different Lisa indeed, and it was pretty bad news as far as I was concerned. "You didn't bring me a gift?" she said. "Not even a little gift?"

We drove by a United California Bank branch. "That's my bank," I said. "Mmm, I wonder how much money you have in there," she said.

In Van Nuys, Lisa and I had sex that night in her bedroom. (I don't remember what happened to Rich; maybe he was in the living room the whole time.) I fucked and fucked her forever without cumming This time there was no movie makers to get impatient. Instead, Lisa got impatient.

Finally, I came. "No wonder you're a porn star," she remarked. She acted relieved, as if the sex had been a job she had to do and was glad to get over with.

The next day, I watched her working as a bikini girl dancer at a joint on Ventura Blvd. She complained that I didn't give her a tip.

She admitted Rich was a "lover". He was staying in the background, she explained, because of their prior agreement that she'd spend this time with me.

Obviously, things weren't working out between us. I split and found some other place to stay, I think with a friend or previous roommate. Later, I returned to her apartment building and spoke to her from the outside of a gate, trying to work things out. I offered to take her out.

She didn't let me in. "It's too late now," she said. "It wouldn't mean the same thing." She told me that I didn't know how to treat a woman. She told me I was cheap.

Or perhaps I was not the trick she was expecting.  

* * *

The Lisa T. Story was originally published in Batteries Not Included, Volume III, Issue #2, February 1996. The first part of the story is based on a letter to a friend dated July 27, 1980, and the ending is based on a drafted letter (not mailed) to the same friend, dated March 31, 1981.