Last Thursday, I drove to Las Vegas to attend two days of the AVN Expo, one of the biggest events in the industry. But first, I had a scene scheduled to shoot for a future video. ROD ROCKHARD owed me a scene in exchange for a shoot he directed in which I had done camera for him. Rod had told me he wanted to retire from the biz, so I'd better get the scene before he let his body go to seed. And, he had agreed to bottom for the first tme on video!

But who to put with him? He had two requests: 1. That his scene partner be versatile, so he could do a flip-flop as opposed to just bottoming, and 2., that his partner be about his own size and height (Rod is about 6'1"). I had a few criteria of my own: 1., that the model already be in Vegas so I didn't have to pay for gas or air fare, 2., that Rod's partner be into sucking uncut cock (Rod is uncut) and 3., that his partner be into black men (Rod is African-American). Rod asked for an additional favor: that I try to get his friend RICKY MARTINEZ to do it (apparently, Ricky had already fucked him off camera and Rod knew waht to expect from him).

I called Ricky, but he told me to negotiate with his business manager, who booked all his work. His business manager, a guy named David, told me that Ricky was available but expensive. After having recently done some Falcon videos, he had upped his rate. Also, Ricky was trying to start his own company, so he was paring down his appearances for other studios. He told me how much Ricky wanted, and I had no alternative but to say no thanks. Strike One.

So, I called NICK CAPRA, who was supposed to be in town for the Expo, but I never got any return calls or e-mails. Strike Two.

Next, I called one of my favorite performers who I knew would be in Vegas, but he wasn't attracted to black men. Strike Three.

Next, I contacted Howard at Fabscout, and asked if he repped anyone who would be in Vegas for the Expo who might fit the bill. He said yes, except they were all bottoms, and I needed someone versatile. But he would check. Ball One.

I was out. I called Rod and told him I didn't think the shoot was going to happen, because I couldn't find anyone that fit all our preferences. Then Howard e-mailed me back to let me know that there would be a model available called BAILEEY, who was of Chinese descent, 5'8", who would be in Vegas and willing to do a scene with a black guy, but there were two conditions:

1. He was strictly a top. No flip-flopping.

2. He did not suck uncut dick.

Now, I knew that Rod would have a fit if he was a complete bottom AND had to do all the cock-sucking, so I didn't mention the latter to him, I just told him that I could only find a short top man, and that if he didn't want to do the scene, I'd have to postpone it until another time. Rod agreed to do the scene under those conditions so our deal would be completed. I told Howard that if Baileey would suck Rod's dick, we'd have a deal. He said Baileey would suck Rod's dick for a little bit extra money, and if I promised that Rod's cock would be smeg-free. I agreed and we were set.

Upon arrival in Vegas, I picked Baileey up at the Venetian and drove to Rod's house, a very sharp 2-story house in a gated community. He answered the door and we hugged. He gave Baileey the once-over, and I could tell that he was pleased. We shot the scene in Rod's bedroom, and I have to tell you, it went so smoothly, even I was surprised! When the time came for Rod to take Baileey's dick, he yelled and hollered like a bitch in heat, screaming "Fuck me!" so loud, I was sure the neighbor's windows were rattling.

After the scene, Rod asked me if I was happy with what I got, and I emphatically said yes. Then he asked if we were even now, and I replied, "Even Steven." We hugged, and I drove Baileey back to the Venetian, then drove over to Paris, where I was staying. Upon check-in, they upgraded me from a Premium Room with a Strip View to a Corner Suite with a Strip View from both windows. From the front window, I could see the replica of the Arc de Triomphe and the big balloon.



From the other window, I could see the replica of the Eiffel Tower and the giant hotel pool.



I unpacked in a hurry, as it was 4:30, and I had dinner plans with ZACKARY PIERCE and his boyfriend at six. I was to meet them at the Expo, where Zack was appearing at the Titan booth. I grabbed a cab and headed over, got my badge and wristband, and walked onto the lower floor where I found the Arena booth and chatted a bit with my friends Tom and Donnie. I made plans with Tom to do dinner the next night, then headed upstairs where I was surprised at how small the gay section was. I found Zack, and the three of us left for a very nice dinner at Portillo's, where we had drinks, pasta, chicken and chatted loudly about our past sexual experiences to the chagrin, I'm sure, of the nearby diners. Zack told me that the Channel 1 Skin Trade party was THAT night, not Friday, as I had thought. We stopped for some delicious gelatto, then I returned to my room to freshen up and change clothes for the party.

I had just stepped out of the shower when JEREMY SPENCER of Adonis called from Florida. He was fuming. The GayVN nominations had come out that day, and the only nomination Adonis had gotten was DAMON PHOENIX for Best Newcomer. With four of their films getting 3 stars or better in GayVN magazine (THE WORKS, HOLIER THAN THOU, STARCROSSED and my personal favorite, BONESAW—lol), he felt slighted and was hopping mad about it. "It's you directors I feel most angry for," he told me. "You did some damn fine work. BONESAW is a damn good movie." I agree. It's also been my most controversial, as the horror/slasher elements of it either turned reviewers off to the story or made them love it. No one HATED the movie, they either loved it or loved the sex but hated the killings.

I jumped in a cab and headed off to the party, which was held at the Piranha Lounge, 4533 Paradise Road, next to the Gipsy.



It was about one-third full when I arrived, and of course, the guy and the girl working the VIP list (isn't it nice how I refrained from calling them the Bozo and the Bimbo?) couldn't find my name, either under Jett Blakk or my real name. So, I went off in search of someone from Channel 1. I passed two giant fish tanks full of piranha, hence the name, I guess, and wondered if they dropped chunks of meat in them for a live feeding frenzy show. i would if it were my joint. Three passes, and no one from Channel 1 was to be found. Of course, it was so dark that I'm not sure I would have been able to identify anyone if I passed within a foot of them. Then I thought that if they were all upstairs in the VIP section, how would I get their attention to help me? The question became moot when ROB NOVINGER walked by me. I grabbed him and told him of my dilemma, then we found ROB REIMER, who listened with astonishment as I told him what happened. "You're on the list!" he yelled in my ear. "I put your name on there myself! It's under your real name!" I told him they couldn't find either one, and he made a face then pulled a VIP wristband out of his pocket and snapped it on me. "Thanks!" I said, and headed upstairs.

It was PACKED. Even after losing 26 pounds, it was hard for me to maneuver through the crowd. There were more people in the VIP section than there were downstairs! I made my way to the bar where JEFFERSON, Channel 1's excellent graphic artist, bought me my first drink of the evening. A tap on my shoulder made me turn to see my friend CLIFTON, their award-winning editor and fellow horror fan. We chatted about Dario Argento and his home life, then he had to leave. The noise was getting to him. I made my way around the top floor and ran into various people and friends: CAMERON and WARREN from Maleflixxx, MIKE STABILE from GayPornBlog, MARIO CRUZ, BILL and CESAR from Adonis, MARK from Jet Set, STEVEN SCARBOROUGH from HotHouse, MATTHEW VON FISTENBERG from Dark Alley Media and STEVE WALKER, among others. As I went around, every six feet someone would grab me to say hi and ask me what I was drinking, then slapping an amaretto and Coke (my favorite) into my hand. While I was talking to Mario Cruz, I saw Zackary Pierce passing me, so I reached out and pinched his nipple...hard. From that point on, whenever he saw me, he'd try to pinch mine in revenge. Around 2am, I'd decided that I'd had enough and took a cab back to Paris. The light from the Eiffel Tower was still very bright, though a bit blurred—-



—so I pulled the curtains closed, and feeling a bit peckish, I ordered a chicken salad sandwich from room service along with some delicious vanilla ice cream. Then I rinsed the smoke off my body and fell into bed, after text-messaging I LOVE YOU to CVK.

To be continued...

JBK