Confessions of a Hustler Honey

We get a lot of guys in here claiming to be "photographers," but believe it or not, I've actually had a few real ones from Playboy, fashion mags and stuff. How do I know they were real? Well, the phony guys are the ones who are always "scouting" for talent, and want you to come to their room at the Best Western for some "test shots." The real McCoys tell you upfront that they only work with agencies.

Now the Playboy guy was interesting. He said that I'm probably better looking than most of the models he has to work with (mind you - this was a couple years ago). He confessed that most of the women you see in the magazine require hours of makeup, are too short to be fashion models, are a total nightmare to work with, and end up getting airbrushed anyway. He asked me if I had done any modeling before and I said no (unless you consider those pictures taken last summer at a wet T-shirt contest as "modeling"). Back then I was this young, naive girl who had a jealous boyfriend and never dreamed of leaving town, so I ended up telling him that I'd be too embarassed to do anything like that. This is one of the few opportunities in my life that I now regret not taking advantage of.

I told the guy that I could never show my face, but he said that's not a problem. This is when I learned that Playboy and other magazines use something called "body" models. Let's say that a model has a kickin' body and a butter-face. They could do photoshoots of just the body parts they like (breasts, ass, etc.) and then use them by themselves in ads and stuff. The other thing they can do (and this is the freaky thing) is that they can also digitally put my breasts on another womans body! The Playboy guy said they don't do that for the pictorials, but it's done all the time for advertisements in magazines and catalogs. If I was interested I could probably get $500 per photo session. I had to tell him "no" since I knew my boyfriend at the time would be totally against it.

Then there was the time I was contacted by a guy from Hustler magazine. Apparently a male friend of mine sent in a pic for their "Beaver Hunt" without telling me. Well LUCKILY they couldn't print anything without my permission, but I guess they found the pic interesting enough for them to try to find me. This "friend" of mine had some pics of me and a girlfriend washing our cars one hot summer day. Well, when you mix enough beer, water, suds, and bikini clad girls together, it quickly degenerates into the kind of soft porn you see on Cinemax late at night.

So out of the blue, this "friend" called me up and explained what he had done with the pics. After I finished screaming and yelling at him for an hour, I finally settled down and agreed to call the guy from Hustler. The person I ended up talking to was an editor from the magazine who wanted to put me in contact with a professional photographer.

We chatted for a bit and he said that my pics more than guaranteed me a spot in the Beaver Hunt (wow - what an honor!), but he wanted to know if I'd be interested in doing some nude modeling for ads or pictorials (apparently the actual "Honeys" are professional adult models and I would have to work my way up to that). We talked money and it turned out not to be great. But what really killed the deal was (once again) an overly jealous boyfriend.

I sat down with him afterwards to explain what happened. I had to be careful because I knew he would want to murder my "friend," so I played it up as a joke that we were both in on. He bought my story, but still gave a big "No fucking way" to the idea of me modeling nude.

Now this decision is NOT one of the ones that I regret as I look back! But every now and then when I feel like my life is a total train wreck, I think back to that phone conversation and what might have been if I had said "sure!" Who knows, maybe this blog woulda been called "Confessions Of An Aging Porn Star."

CJ