Sometimes unlikely people are found to be interesting and highly intelligent. In J P Dooley's book in process, Lance the Pornstar: The Golden Willy, two pornstars get to the bottom (so to speak) of a mysterious disappearance. Enjoy a brief intro into the story:
"It was when Peggy Perdu, my comrade and co-star, couldn’t open her mouth wide enough to taste an hors d’oeuvre without her jaw cramping. “Cockjaw,” she said massaging her cute face. “This is all your fault, Lance.”
I smiled and then we both laughed, I robustly and she through barely parted lips. If you’ve seen any of her movies or videos, such as XYZ and Beyond Impossible, you know how she takes giant penises in ways and postures that defy the imagination, riding, sliding, sucking, jacking and licking, and indeed it had been the monster member of our associate, Rex Goliath, that had bruised her mandible.
Rather a reference to something that had happened a week or so before.
Except for her shapely bosom, she is small and petite. I have to hold her up to peek in the window of our neighbors’ house when they’re having the exhibitionists over. She has a beguilingly innocent face with wide blue eyes, blemish-less skin, and a pouting cat mouth, the placid mask in front of a craven psyche, a body with a double uterus and the libido of an entire roller-derby team. She speaks with a gentle southern accent, Sugar, Darlin’, words flow like honey, an illusion of soft and vulnerable.
I come off as the hard one, so to speak: an Englishman with a curt voice and manner and that peculiar frowning expression we British fellows get for holding our mouths to the phonemes of the Queen’s English. She’s diminutive and I’m tall, muscular and rather hairy. An illusion of brute dominance in contrast to the truth: my credential as a porn star is exquisite sensitivity and subtle deference."
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