This is my testimony, and the events that led me into the
porn industry, and those that followed, from childhood to the present.
I was raised in Southern California by a single mother, who struggled
with severe depression and isolation from as far back as I can remember.
She was a wonderful woman, but extremely troubled, and though she
raised me to the best of her ability, she dealt with many issues from
her past, which continued to haunt her until she died of breast cancer
in 1992.
All throughout my childhood, she refused discuss much of her past
with me, nor would she discuss things related to sex. She told me
the basics, and that was about it. I had to research many things on
my own, which led to me having a very distorted view of sex. She treated
sex as something dirty, and refused to address any questions that
I had. I remember having to look up things in the encyclopedia, and
talking about things with my friends.
Not only that, but there were many other things that she would refused
to discuss with me, even though they happened in front of my very
eyes. For example, when I was 7 years old, I remember eating dinner
at Denny's with her one evening. We were at the front of the restaurant,
and I remember a man stumbled in, with blood gushing out from his
chest, and a knife sticking out of his back. He made eye contact with
me, said "I'm wounded," and fell to the floor. I remember
many people rushing to his aid, and my mother praying vehemently for
him at the table. When I asked what had happened, she replied "Don't
think about it. Don't look. Just eat your supper. Just don't pay any
attention," so I did what she said. She never discussed the incident
with me any further, nor did I ask her to.
Aside from her, I had virtually NO CONTACT with my mother's side
of the family, as they all lived in England and South Africa, where
she was raised. I had very little contact with my dad, who lived in
Missouri at the time. I would go to visit him for 2 months during
the summer, but that was about it. This went on from the time I was
5 until I was 13. He was a very cold and intimidating man. I don't
ever remember him telling me that he loved me, but I remember very
well the excessive drinking and belt-whippings. He was usually well-composed,
but on the occasions he did get drunk, his temper was frightening.
Basically, I HATED going to visit him, and remember calling my mother
crying because I wanted to come home.
Most of his family was very nice, but I never made a connection with
any of them. I was basically an outsider, and hated being there. Most
of them paid me little attention, but I remember one uncle who took
a special interest in me. At the time, I enjoyed the attention, because
he seemed to make up for what my father lacked. I remember several
instances when I was very young, and I would be taking a bath, he
would come into the bathroom, and sit down by the tub and talk with
me. I don't remember much about those incidents…just that he
would be very playful and openly-friendly. I also remember becoming
intimidated by him after a while, but because I was afraid of my dad,
I wouldn't really talk to him about it.
I vaguely remember these times, and I had my suspicions, which were
confirmed when I was 13. I was talking to my friend about how I was
afraid of the dark, but when I masturbated at night, it would give
me a sense of comfort, and would help me fall asleep.
I explained to her that I wasn't sure why…I just thought it
was an odd quirk that I had.
She then told me that when I was 7 years old, I was crying to her
one day and told her that an uncle had "touched me" while
I was in the bathtub. I told her I had no recollection of this, and
she was shocked, as was I. Shortly thereafter, my mother called my
father and told him that I wouldn't be coming to visit anymore.
From that point on, I had no contact with my dad. It was just me
and my mom. Then, when I was 14, my worst nightmare came true. My
mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. She spent most of her time
after that in and out of hospitals, and I was basically on my own
from that point forward, both emotionally and physically. She would
spend weeks at a time in the hospital, and, besides a friend who came
to stay with me every once in a while, I was basically alone in the
house. I became very depressed, but had no one to talk to. No one
on my dad's side of the family knew that my mom was sick, and because
I knew that she did not want them to know, I never tried to make contact.
Basically, I was completely alone. I remember one Christmas in particular
when my mom was in the hospital. I remember decorating the tree, and
crying over my loneliness. I had no one to talk to, and begun slipping
into a deep depression. I never talked to anyone about my feelings,
because my mom had always raised me not to bother anyone with my problems.
So I didn't. The fact that I was so consumed with my mother's illness
left me with little interest in sex. I remember becoming obsessed
with a few guys, but they were all celebrities, and I remember becoming
fixated on them to the point of continual obsession. I had no desire
to date, though, because I was too concerned with my own problems.
When my mom WAS home, she would lock herself in her room, reading
her Bible, and would barely talk to me. I understood that she was
going through a lot of pain, so I left her alone. I was always reclusive,
but became even more so when this happened.
I became anorexic and isolated, and even when I was at my lowest
weight of 99 lbs., no one ever seemed to care, or approached me about
it. I would later learn that several people approached my mother,
but she told them to mind their own business. By the grace of God,
I never had to seek treatment, because I came to the realization that
I would die if this continued.
Throughout the time my mom was sick, I used my schoolwork as an escape
from all of my problems, so I was able to hold decent grades. I graduated
high school early, with honors, and worked a job until I went to college.
Because I was raised in a Christian home, I majored in religious studies,
not so much because I wanted to, but because this was something that
my mom wanted. Even in college, I was reclusive, and made very few
friends. I remember several guys showing an interest in me, but because
of my situation at home, and the fact that I had been so sheltered
by my mom (she never talked to me about guys, and wouldn't let me
date until I was 18), I had little interest in dating. I LOVED men,
and I loved the attention that I got from them, but I had no interest
in dating them, or having sex. One day, my mom asked me point blank
if I was a lesbian, because I didn't have a boyfriend. She wanted
me to start dating, but at this point, I had no interest.
The summer after my first year in college, a friend of mine introduced
me to speed. I had never done drugs before, and was immediately hooked.
I went into it with a vengeance, and took it in mass quantities whenever
I could. Not only did it keep my weight down, but it provided a powerful
escape from the crap that was going on in my life. I loved it, and
continued on in it, even after returning to school. I was able to
hide my habit very well, though, so no one suspected. I convinced
myself that it was all under my control, and didn't have a problem.
I was very good at deceiving myself like that. I figured that I didn't
need a man, because I had the drug.
Then, during my junior year in college, I met the man who would be
my husband. He was funny, smart, and outgoing, which immediately attracted
me to him, because I was such an introvert. He was very unemotional,
though, and very unaffectionate, just like my dad. At the time, this
wasn't a huge deal to me, because I was used to feeling unloved. I
never had much affection from a man growing up, and this was no different.
We dated for about 6 months, then he asked me to marry him. By this
time, my mother was near death, so I agreed….not so much because
I loved him, but because I was so desperately afraid of being alone.
I felt very unlovable, and was happy that someone as funny and outgoing
as him would even want to marry me. By this point, I pretty much hated
myself, and wasn't sure if anyone else would ever love me. I figured
that this may be my one chance for marriage, or a fulfilling life,
so I took it. I figured that, even if I was unhappy, at least I wouldn't
be alone.
On my wedding day, I almost backed out, but I went through with it,
anyway. Everyone was so supportive, that I thought I was doing the
right thing.
As our marriage progressed, he got more distant and cold. The sex
lacked any love or affection, and from the start, I hated it. It was
basically just me putting everything I had into pleasing him, so that
I could get it over with. I never had an orgasm. He didn't care. As
long as he was being pleased, it didn't matter what was going on with
me.
For me, sex was just an act that I did to keep my end of the marital
bargain. It was physically painful, and emotionally draining.
The marriage became increasingly cold, and after a while, it started
becoming abusive. I remember one time in particular where he threw
me against the wall SO HARD that the cops were called. Several times,
he pushed me so hard that I got massive bruises, and one time in particular,
I remember him holding me against the wall by my throat. Each time,
I convinced myself that it was my fault, and that I needed to be a
better wife.
When I was 22, a year after we got married, my mother passed away.
This was especially hard on me, and was really hoping for my husband's
support. Throughout the ordeal, he was very cold and unemotional.
I remember sobbing during the funeral service, and putting my head
on his shoulder. I was really hoping for some support, but he just
sat there, and did nothing to comfort me. All he did was talk about
the life insurance policy that she left me. I was devastated, because
if I couldn't confide in him, who COULD I confide in?!
The night of my mother's funeral I spent with my friend, getting
wired on speed and sucking up the grief that I felt. I knew that my
husband couldn't support or comfort me, so I refused to grieve.
For a while, the physical abuse stopped, and I was sure that things
would get better. They didn't. We were in constant financial turmoil,
and it seemed that nothing I could do pleased him. I did all I could
to satisfy him sexually, but it seemed that I always came up short.
We rarely had sex, and when we did, it consisted of him sitting back
while I pleased him.
There was no foreplay, no effort on his part, and he continually
reminded me how unsatisfactory I was. He started convincing me that,
in order to make up where I lacked, we needed to play around with
other couples, and for a while, I refused. It seemed completely unthinkable
that my husband had to go to other women, but he continued to nag
me about this, and eventually, out of guilt and frustration, I gave
in. I thought that I owed it to him, because I was so horrible in
bed. We started going to sex clubs, and he noticed the attention that
I got from other men. We eventually met up with a woman who was a
stripper, who convinced me that I "had the look" to be very
successful stripping. At first, I refused, but my husband convinced
me that it was a great idea. I hated the idea of having to parade
myself in front of a bunch of strangers, but the fact that complete
strangers would pay to see me dance sort of intrigued me. I figured
that if my husband could see that other men found me that attractive,
he would appreciate me more as a wife.
I got a job at a very upscale club in San Francisco. I hated every
minute of it, but I kept it up, because I was convinced I was being
a good wife. I felt completely worthless, and good-for-nothing, and
though I acted like I loved every minute of it, I hated myself, and
the men who came to see me. I kept going, because I thought that I
might be able to earn his love back, and he was more than happy every
night when I gave him the money I made. Just knowing that he was happy
made me feel a little bit better, but I still felt like a complete
joke of a wife.
After I just couldn't take it anymore, I told him that I was quitting.
He wasn't happy, but eventually, he gave in. I got a regular job,
and things were okay for a while. We had a child, and I thought that
things would work out after that. I was completely wrong.
A few months after I stopped stripping, my husband started getting
into porn. At first I objected, because that was the last thing I
wanted in my life, but he convinced me that because I was inadequate,
that was the only way he could get off while we were having sex, so
I allowed it. Our sex life was as dull and loveless as ever, and consisted
of me pleasing him while he watched porn. That was our sex life, and
I HATED having sex. I knew that pleasing him was my wifely duty, though,
so I allowed it.
Our sex life never got any better, and he became more and more consumed
with porn. When we weren't having sex, he would go to the bathroom
with his porn magazines, and masturbate while I was in the other room.
I hated the fact that I couldn't satisfy my husband, but after a while,
I just didn't care anymore.
Eventually, he started telling me that, because I was so hot, I could
make a lot of money doing porn. We could barely make ends meet, and
he said that he was doing it for the both of us. He eventually sent
my picture in to a number of production companies, and I accrued a
lot of interest. He said he'd be my manager, and that he'd take care
of everything. At first, I really didn't take him seriously, but after
a while I knew that he was serious. I could never say no to him before,
and this was no different. I eventually got tired of hearing the guilt
trips, and figured that it couldn't be much worse than what I'd already
done. Boy, was I wrong.
When I agreed, we moved to Southern California, and my first meeting
was with a "freelance producer" who was a complete scumbag.
I knew nothing about the industry, and he convinced me that I had
to "show him how good I was," so I agreed to let him film
me while we "did it" on his bed. It was filthy and disgusting,
just like the rest of his wrecked apartment. At this point, I didn't
care about anything, so I just said yes and got it over with. It was
the most humiliating experience of my life. I felt like a complete
and total prostitute, but the worst thing of all was knowing that
I was so worthless to my husband, that he would agree to whore me
out like that. My husband thought it was great, but I didn't get any
work, so he sent my picture to a bunch of producers, and we hooked
up with a web designer, who designed a site for me, but I had to have
sex with him in order for him to do it for free. Of course, I said
yes, and this was my first "movie" experience. I immediately
started getting work, and did whatever I could to make money.
All the while I was making movies, I started slipping deeper and
deeper into depression. I hated having sex, but thought it was no
big deal because it was for purely "professional" reasons.
I didn't know anything about the porn industry, but I learned quickly.
Most of the videos were filmed in very upscale homes, but the conditions
were filthy. Not all of the videos I did were sex videos, but even
the fetish videos were gross and unsanitary. If I was doing a peeing
video, I'd pee right on the ground. I remember in one video, one girl
actually peed on the roof of the house. If the girl couldn't pee,
we'd have to wait around until she could, no matter how bad we had
to go. If we urinated before it was our time, the whole shoot was
ruined, and we'd forfeit our pay for that day. For masturbation videos,
used sex toys were offered as props.
On set, if a girl was having reservations, or second thoughts, the
producers would become very belligerent. I remember during one particular
production, this girl, who was new to porn, came with her boyfriend.
She couldn't have been any older than 19 or 20. When it was time for
her scene, she said she wasn't sure she wanted to do it. She was very
distraught, and nervous, but the producers and her boyfriend just
kept egging her on. They told her how sexy she was, and eventually
became very irate, telling her how she shouldn't be there wasting
their time if she wasn't serious. Most producers have absolutely no
patience with the girls, even though being on set is a very traumatizing
experience. There is no room for compassion in the porn industry.
Anal scenes were the worst!!! Anal sex is stressful enough, but having
to stop and start and switch angles is murder, and it's not uncommon
to lose bowel control. It's disgusting, and extremely humiliating.
All you can do is try to put the experience out of your mind, but
you never really can.
Production was murder. I would have to wait for hours on set until
it was finally time for my scene. While I was waiting, I would sometimes
go outside and get high with the other girls. The porn industry makes
a big deal about the performers not using drugs, but it is all a lie.
Marijuana was almost always available on set, either from the other
performers, or the crew; not only that, but if I had access to it,
before production, I would smoke as much meth as I could because it
was easier to tolerate the hardcore sex when I was wired. The porn
industry doesn't require drug tests, so I could pretty much be on
whatever I wanted when I was filming. As long as we showed up, the
producers didn't care WHAT we were on.
Everyone in the industry was required to take monthly HIV tests,
but we were not tested for anything else. It was not uncommon for
me to get a yeast infection, or even a bladder infection. When I told
one of the other girls about it, she informed me that it was no big
deal, and showed me a way to block the discharge so I could continue
working. I worked several times with yeast infections, but no one
knew. It was disgusting and unsafe, but my husband didn't care, and
at this point, neither did I. I figured that if I got an infection,
I deserved it. As long as I was bringing in the money, anything was
alright with him. Not only that, but when I had a bladder infection,
sex hurt like hell!!! Most of the time, I couldn't urinate without
it completely burning.
Every film that I made was a total and complete lie. I put up a real
good front, but the truth was, I despised having sex. At this point,
though, it was just my job, and I had to perform the best I could
in order to get the work. The sluttier I acted, the better. I was
a really good actress, though, and acted like I was having the time
of my life.
While I pretended to love every minute of having sex with the male
performers, all I could think about was getting it over with. I couldn't
wait for the money shot, because that meant that it was almost time
to leave. I felt absolutely degraded by being there, but I figured
that it would only last for a few hours, and I could be on my way.
Every movie I made, my husband was there, chatting with the other
performers and the photographers. They hated him. They would call
him my "suitcase pimp," and make fun of him behind his back.
One producer in particular told me that I could make a lot more movies
if he wasn't involved. He was the only reason I was degrading myself
in the first place, though, so that wasn't going to happen.
I would tell people how much I loved having sex, and how much of
a slut I was. I told one interviewer that I grew up in a Christian
background, yet I had this voracious sexual appetite that just couldn't
be repressed. That was the farthest thing from the truth.
Sex, for me, was something I did because I had to, and I hated EVERY
minute of it. I remember being in this big "casting call"
with tons of other girls. We would bring our pictures, and tell the
producers what we would and wouldn't do, but because I just didn't
give a crap anymore, I told them I would do anything. I had no reservations.
I absolutely HATED myself for doing it, but I figured that I was so
far-gone, nothing mattered anymore.
Not only that, but while I was in porn, my sex life with my husband
got even worse. Even before porn, we rarely had sex….but it
became almost non-existent once I started making videos. On the rare
occasions we DID have sex, it was usually anal, and we always had
to have a porn video on in order for him to become aroused. It was
very cold and impersonal, and I dreaded every moment. I felt like
a robot, subhuman, just going through the motions.
I started slipping even deeper into depression, until one day, I
just couldn't take it. I told my husband that I refused to do anymore
porn, and that he would have to deal with it. He was furious. He slapped
me, and basically told me I was ruining everything. He couldn't really
do anything about it, though, because I refused to do any more work,
so he just gave up. He insisted that I do more to please him sexually.
I told him that the only way I could get off was to smoke meth and
pot. Before this, he was completely opposed to drugs, but because
he really wanted me to be a sexual animal, he gave in. He started
buying me speed and pot, and I used it whenever I could.
He continued to watch porn, and told me he really wished I would
go back into the industry. I thought everything would be okay after
I quit porn, but it wasn't. I remained in my depression, and eventually
started cutting myself. I hated who I was, and the life that I'd made
for myself. I had reached my lowest point, and told myself how much
of a slut I was, and that I deserved every slice of the blade.
I did this for a while, and hid it well, until my husband finally
caught me one day. He totally freaked out, and I was admitted into
a psychiatric ward. I slept for 2 days straight, and was prescribed
everything from wellbutrin to lithium. I was diagnosed as manic-depressive,
and was kept for several days. During this time, my husband called
my estranged dad and told him what a basket-case his daughter was.
After a few days, I was released, but I was still depressed. About
a year later, my husband kicked me out of the house, and filed for
divorce. I was basically homeless.
I went to stay with a friend, and I continued doing meth. I had no
home, no family, and my life was completely empty. I contemplated
suicide several times, but never went through with it, because I was
afraid of the repercussions. I went back to school, and managed to
land a decent job, but I was ordered not to have one-on-one contact
with my daughter, because of my psychiatric illness. I was considered
a danger to her, so the court issued a restraining order. I was told
that the only way I could see her was through supervised visitations,
but even then, my husband made it impossible for me to have any contact
with her.
I eventually had to move from my apartment into a veteran's community,
where I met a man whom I fell madly in love with. Throughout the entire
relationship, he was abusive. I made the mistake of telling him about
my past involvement in pornography, and he told me that he would be
able to deal with it, because he was so madly in love with me. That
never happened.
He was an alcoholic, and beat me on a regular basis. I remember having
to go to work on several occasions with my face tore up and a black
eye. I financially supported him, though, which is why he continued
in the relationship. He was an alcoholic, and was physically and verbally
abusive. He convinced me that no man could ever love me with a past
like mine, and that he was doing me a favor by loving me. I was convinced
that he was right.
On one occasion, he took me to a park and brutally raped me. He was
arrested, but the charges were dropped. A year and a half, I continued
to love him, and to try to make it work. Then, one morning, it all
came to a head. He came home drunk and belligerent, after a long night
of gambling. He proceeded to beat me severely, kicking me in the back,
in the face, and telling me what a whore I was. He said that I was
a total slut, and that I deserved all of it. Then, at the height of
his rage, he put his fingers inside of my mouth and pulled so hard
that he tore my mouth open. I was bleeding profusely. He then pushed
my face into a pillow and proceeded to asphyxiate me. It was at this
point that I cried out to the Lord in desperation, and said "If
you have any mercy on me, Lord, send your angels to protect me."
At that precise moment, he stopped. I was in shock. I thought for
sure I would die that day. Then, he proceeded to drug me with seroquel,
so that I couldn't leave and tell anyone about the incident. I fought
to stay awake, but the sedative was too powerful. The following morning
I left, and never came back.
Once again, I was homeless. I went to stay with a friend, and once
again got involved in meth. I spent my days either wired, or coming
down. I knew that I wanted to return to God, but my spirit had been
so broken, and I thought I had become too far-gone, for Him to love
me like I needed to be loved. I desperately needed to be loved, but
I had no one, so I continued in my meth habit for 3 months, until
my friend and I got into a huge argument. She kicked me out, and I
was once again homeless. I slept in my vehicle for 2 months, while
I saved up for an apartment. By this time, I was in the pit of my
despair. I started to seek the Lord, but I felt so unworthy, and didn't
know how to ask for His help. I figured that if He loved me, He would
help me, even if I didn't specifically ask.
I finally got an apartment, but I was so depressed, and my life was
so devoid of joy, that I felt completely hopeless. I had no one, and
nothing, and I continued in my meth habit. I was completely alone,
completely depressed, and completely strung-out.
How on EARTH could God save a wretch like me?
Then, it happened. The job that I had involved a lot of driving,
and I stumbled upon a Christian radio station that featured sermons
by different preachers. Many of the messages spoke straight to my
heart, and they talked a lot about Christ's love, and the hopelessness
of life. Slowly, Christ started speaking to me through these ministers,
and showing me that, despite everything I'd done, and the pit that
I was in, Christ's love was powerful enough to overcome it all, if
I would just come to Him with a sincere heart and a willingness to
change. For someone like me, this was a message of unimaginable hope
and deliverance. I felt God speaking to my heart, and I felt His love
overcome me like never before. I had NO IDEA that that kind of love
even existed. For so many years, I felt that no one could truly love
me. I felt that I was so trapped in depression and self-loathing that
I was a hopeless case. Everyone in my life had let me down, and it
seemed unfathomable to me that there was a Savior out there who would
never leave me nor forsake me.
I was so riddled with guilt over my past, that God's love just seemed
too far-removed from me. I was emotionally dead, and internally exhausted.
To think that the love of Christ could breathe new hope into me just
seemed impossible.
I had been raised in the church, and had studied the Bible before,
so I knew the kind of God that He was. I knew that He was a God who
was faithful to His promises, but for me, those promises just seemed
out of my reach. I had sunk so low, and I couldn't fathom that the
same God who worked such miracles in the Old Testament, and sent His
only Son to die on the cross, wanted to have fellowship with me. But
even then, I knew that He was real, and that it couldn't hurt to gibe
Him a try. What a shock I was in for!!!
From the moment that I came to Him, He made me feel so loved, and
so special, that it totally shattered the image I had built up for
myself. I knew that I could be saved, but I thought that I was way
to far-gone to enjoy any sort of a relationship with Him. I was amazed
to learn that God WANTED a relationship with me, and that He wanted
to break down those walls so that I could love Him with all of my
heart and soul.
I have been saved for about 6 months now, and since then, God has
NEVER failed me…not even once. He has transformed me into a
beautiful new creature, and I am filled with more love and joy than
I could possibly have imagined.
I praise my Savior every day for rescuing me from the pit that I
dug for myself. I still get depressed from time to time, but this
depression is no match for the love and grace of my Heavenly Father.
He has showed me what it really means to live, and to love.
He has brought me from porn and depression into a beautiful new life
of love and service, and I thank Him every day for His goodness and
mercy.
From a background in speaking-in-tongues Pentacostal Christianity,
Ashley's turned her oral talents in a new direction.
Check out her web site at Ashleybrooksxxx.com.
I had never watched porn, much less looked at an adult magazine until
I married Jordan. He would bring it home occasionally to watch and eventually
he talked me into watching it with him. I was, to say the least, a little
shy sexually. Soon enough, though, I was watching them with him often
and even helping him pick them out. All this time I was wondering to
myself what it would be like to do one. I decided to try dancing and
for a short time I danced at the Gold Club in San Francisco. Shortly
after that we started swinging with other couples. It was then that
learned several things......
1. I LOVE BEING WITH WOMEN
2. I love having sex with different people
3. People LOVE watching me have sex!!!
So, long story short, I have started making adult films and I am starting
this site. I just love having sex as much as I can and wherever I can.
We take our camera with us when we go places, so you can see me having
naked fun in different places. I love to flash too. If there is something
specific that you want to see, e-mail Jordan and let him know and maybe
we can get it done for you. I can also make custom movies for you. I
am a Raiders fan! In fact, Jordan and I have season tickets. I also
love ice hockey (both of us play) and my favorite team is the Colorado
Avalanche. There is something very sexy about a guy who is dripping
sweat after he has just knocked the crap out of someone else. Plus all
that skating gives them nice butts.
I am also really into music. Some of my favorites are the Beatles,
Barenaked ladies, REM, Green day, Dixie Chicks, Led Zeppelin and Nirvana.
Recently I have been putting on the BNL and Green Day CD's and just
having some hard, nasty sex!!!!
I know this sounds weird, but I do enjoy cleaning the house. I am usually
half naked when I do it, which Jordan enjoys! I don't cook, but he doesn't;t
mind since he gets to see me running around topless a lot. Plus, he
gets it pretty often so that stops any complaining he may have about
cooking all the time. What turns me on? Well obviously a nice hard dick,
but I also enjoy a nice clean pussy. Nothing is worse than a stinky
one, know what I mean?? Actually the biggest turn on is several cocks
at once, all around me. I do have one fantasy that I have not tried
yet and that it to have 5 or 6 guys all around me beating off and letting
me suck on them and then having them all cumming over me. I get SO turned
on sucking cock, and I am told that I am pretty good at it. My favorite
position is doggie style. If you want to know anymore about me just
e-mail me. If it is not too personal or too rude I will answer it for
you! ENJOY MY SITE!!!!!! XOXOXO Ashley ashley@ashleybrooksxxx.com
Marc writes: in spite of their name, i've never heard of a woman having
"hard, nasty sex" while listening to the music of my whimsical fellow
countrymen, the barenaked ladies. that pic of ashley looks like something
out of penthouse c. 1973.
Rob Spallone: "I'm shooting ten girls Wedesday. Five girl-girl
scenes at Bobby Gallaghers..."
James DiGiorgio: "You put all this other crap up on your site,
like the Cindy Plenum garbage which you copied from another site. I
saw the site you copied off. Bulls--- who you want to bulls---, but
don't bulls--- me. I know better. You can tell these other people your
lies... I want to give her a little plug.
"Why are you reviewing my low budget gonzo work, not my artistic
work? Review Sopornos 2.
"I've got a naked girl in my office. Ashley Brooks. She's brand
new, tall, 5'9"."
Jim: "I would imagine so. She's in this business. She's going
yeah... You ask her."
Ashley: "We live in Longbeach but we're trying to find a house
in the [San Fernando] Valley. We just moved down here from the San Francisco
Bay Area."
Jim yells in the background: "Luke, why don't you ask her now
that you've got her on the phone one on one? How come you got me to
ask her?"
Ashley laughs: "I can answer that question for you. Yes I do.
Who doesn't?"
Ashley: "If I don't like to suck cock, I'm definitely in the wrong
industry.
"I've done six movies for Wildlife and two for Dave Cummings and
Cock Smokers 27 from Extreme just came out. And I suck cock in that
one. You can see for yourself."
Ashley: "A movie for Wildlife called Screw My Husband. That's
probably the highest budgeted one I've done."
Ashley: "I get screwed. I'm supposed to be the wife and the porn
star comes and screws my husband. Sex, blowjob, cowboy, I mean cowgirl
position. On my back. Basically just a boy-girl scene."
Ashley: "My husband. He called the different movie companies from
the back of Adam Film World. We both wanted to get into the industry.
It looked like a fun way to make money."
Jim: "Luke, ask her about her spiritual self and how does her
soul deal with this industry as an easy way to make money."
Ashley: "Oh damn, does he mean am I a Bible thumper? No, I am
not a Bible thumper."
Ashley: "No, I am not a Bible humper either. Even worse."
Ashley: "I'm going around to the different agencies to try to
get them to convert to Jehovah's Witness."
Ashley: "Well yeah. What does this have to do with whether I like
to suck cock or not?"
Luke: "I'm kinda weird. I always ask people about their religion."
Ashley: "No. I hung around teleevangelists a lot when I was growing
up. My mom worked for a Christian TV station and I had to hang around
with her at the studio. I think that's what brought me to the dark side."
Ashley: "No. I was eight years old. No one's going to make a move
on me. It isn't Catholicism."
Luke: "Have you had any bad experiences in your six weeks in the
industry?"
Ashley: "A lot of scams. A lot of people contacted me about really
weird s---. s--- like 'Do you want to get peed on?' Or 'Do you want
to take a s---?' Just stuff over the internet. Really cheesy companies."
Ashley: "I said no. I've run across some scam artists."
Ashley: "Yeah. That's not what you do, is it?"
Luke: "No. What are your ambitions for your career in this industry?"
Ashley: "About a year ago. It was fine. I recovered very quickly.
I don't have any scars. And it's been nothing but positive ever since."
Ashley: "If he's allowed to, if not, he does not. He's very professional.
If they'll let him, that's great, but if not, we completely understand.
I know that a lot of people don't like the husbands on the sets. So
we always make sure to clear it before we bring him along."
Luke: "What a guy. Doesn't he get jealous?"
Ashley: "I don't know. He doesn't seem too jealous. He just likes
watching films being made and scenes in action. He's real laid back.
He doesn't get in your hair a lot. He's not one of these guys who just
goes and make a nuisance of himself. The last time he was with me was
a Wildlife production. He just sat in the other room and kept to himself.
He's willing to help out any way he can with me. Like you said, bring
me cold drinks and whatnot."
Ashley: "No, no, I don't think that he'll do that.
Luke asks Ashley's husband Jordan: "What sort of experience is
it to go on set and watch your wife getting done?"
Jordan: "Like she said, we're very professional... I just sat
there while they were doing the one scene and I was talking to Bobby
Rinaldi. No problems at all."
Jordan: "The way I look at it, it's just like your wife works
at JC Penny and you walk in there and see her selling clothes. It's
what she's doing. I'm helping her run her web site."
