The Bedroom Blog

Drama at the Porn Convention

Things get wild when Chloe gets to the AVNs.

By Alessandra Torre

You'll never believe what happened at the AVN awards.

The disaster started with my seat placement: right next to Ram Thorton, Oral Performer of 2013. Then when they called out the nominations, I saw his video. Thirty seconds of high-def action showcasing everythinghe had packed in that tuxedo. Then — right before the winners were announced — Ram made eye contact, stood from his seat, and leaned over the table. I barely had a chance to catch my breath, barely understood what was happening, before he leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. Kissed me!

Is that a porn star thing? Kissing someone after 20 minutes of polite dinner conversation? I don't know if it was the wine at dinner or the fresh-in-my-mind shot of his naked body, but I didn't fight the kiss, didn't push on his chest or stamp on his foot or scream in his face. I didn't do anything but take the surprisingly gentle press of his lips.

Kissed by a porn star. I just sat there, my hands tightening on my napkin, as his name was called and the bright glare of the spotlight captured our "moment" for the entire room. He pulled back and made his way toward the microphone, where Nicole stood, a strange look on her face as she stared at me and I looked away in embarrassment. Figures that I kiss one porn star and the entire room sees it, including my boss. I looked intently at my plate and listened to Ram's acceptance speech, his deep voice accompanied by a feminine squeak that must have been his co-star.

"You know he's my ex." The drawl came from a brunette who sat across the table, an evil smile curving across her mouth as she crossed her arms and leaned over, an action that put her impressive breasts on full display.

"I'm not in-in-interested in him." From out of nowhere, I was suddenly stuttering. It was like some porn star hell I couldn't get out of. Then, it got worse.

"Who would be interested?" It was model Tiffany, from my left, lifting her head from a martini for the first time all evening. I wasn't aware that she was listening. Or coherent. She'd started ordering drinks the minute she'd realized it was an open bar. I'd been counting her refills and was pretty sure she was up to five. To say I'd chosen the wrong date was an understatement. "He's a prostitute," Tiffany slurred, dragging her head in the general direction of the ex-girlfriend. She punctuated the snub with a grimace that would have offended half the people in the room. I tried to kick her under the table and managed to hit the table leg instead, my toe stubbing hard enough that I yelped.

Ram returned at the precise moment that his ex stood from the table and threw her drink right into Tiffany's face. I didn't really blame her. Had my left foot not been throbbing in pain, I would have already kicked the model off her chair. Tiffany sputtered, I stood, and grabbed Tiffany's arm, all but dragging her toward the entrance, a team of tuxedoed security guards already headed our way.

As we tumbled through the doors, Ram with us, his arms wrapped around Tiffany's waist, I twisted around for one last glimpse inside. My eyes met Nicole's from across the room and she looked pissed.

My stomach dropped around the same time that I heard the sound of Tiffany vomiting.