A year ago I had beaten every land speed record in New York as I raced to get to my ever faithful doctor to the porn stars, Dr. Alfie. Many tests later, he assured me my sudden inability to get it up was psychological. I’d laughed and gone in search of a second opinion. When that doctor referred me to a psychologist, blaming my erectile malfunction on my head—and not the one in my pants—I had chuckled nervously. When a third doctor suggested that I had become so conditioned to unattached, unemotional sex, my body had actually started to reject it, I collapsed under the weight of shock. I had literally screwed myself into insanity. Well done, Decker Steele. So, my body wanted to reject sex? Okay, like any red blooded male, I could ignore the problem with the best of them. But how does one simply ignore their flaccid member? You can’t! Any guy will tell you, a problem with the junk is as good as the end of the world! I became a Viagra junkie. Seriously, I couldn’t go to work without one. Worried about the long lasting effects the drug might have on my body, I turned in my acting career for directing. A year later, I was still dipping into the medicinal cabinet to get an occasional social hard-on. I was doing my best to keep my little—scratch that—fucking massive, secret quiet. It wasn’t unusual for Viagra to be used in this industry. In fact, it was unusual for it not to be used. Viagra and other performance enhancing drugs, like cocaine, was commonplace. The industry no-no drug, Alprostadil, injected into the penis, was becoming disturbingly more accepted. How any man could willingly bring himself to stick a needle in his manhood was completely unacceptable in my book. Yeah, the porn industry wasn’t all pretty bows and ribbons. I had garnered a reputation as being one of those elusive enigmas left in the porn world who could get it up without medicinal help. Well, until recently anyway. While the P.A.—Pornography Association—was begging me to get back in the saddle, I had used every excuse feasible to get out of it. The Adult Video Association’s recipient of the Male Performer of the Year award, four times running, was living a lie. And to top it off, I was depressed and pissed off. I was a moody fucker that my friends were going to great lengths to avoid.
I ran a hand over the rough stubble on my face. I didn’t usually let it get this long—it bothered the girls when I went down on them—I was too tired to be bothered shaving though. I was sick to death of sex; I couldn’t even bring myself to stand behind a camera anymore. Apparently there are only so many fake orgasms a man can handle listening to. And, I shit you not, standing around twenty minutes while your male lead jacks off so you can get the ever important cum shot gets old pretty damn fast.
I watched the two girls walk from my suite. Well, not everyone found my cantankerous persona a problem. These girls actually got off on the heated aggression I had brought to the bedroom.