Sometimes, I’m worried I might be going to hell when I die. It’s not so much cause I shoot porn in general that’s sending me to that firey hole upon passing, it’s some of the sceanrios I’ve dreamt up that might put me there.

The Producer said it first, after seeing these Spring Thomas pictures: “Dude, we’re both going to hell for this one.”

I kinda disagree; it’s the Liv Wylder story I’m about about to spin that’s got me worried.

I booked Liv through Lauren Phoenix. At the time, Lauren thought she could handle an agency. I liked Liv’s looks, and the fact that (at the time) she was a new comer, and, of course, she was blonde and willing to do pretty much anything with a black guy.

First up? The secret gloryhole. She was totally into blowing a stranger in a filthy place, like they all are. Bladda bladda blah.

Then, we got back in time for the real fun – Liv was taking on BOZ the Animal and Mandingo. She’s looking at 25 inches of pleasurable pain – but have her cuckold husband watching all that black dick go in and out of her, and I was quite certain I was creating an interracial sex classic, if such a thing exists.

Well, her husband really didn’t watch – cause he couldn’t. I made him get locked into a cage we had on set for a while – a cage that had a soft bed on top for sex, while some poor, pathetic gimp was locked up below and couldn’t see a thing. Like I said…instant interracial classic.

Now, I’d like to point something out: this really wasn’t her husband, although Liv’s married. I mean when I pan in to her wedding ring, right before all the sex is about to go down, yea, that’s really her wedding ring. But I hired a member from Blacks On Blondes to play cuckold, cause these silly cuckolds write us a million letters a day wanting to be cuck’d on film. Don’t get me wrong: Liv played up like it was her hubby; Liv made fun of her “hubby” while she was getting pounded; Liv had her “hubby” beat off into a bowl and seal it shut and make him take it to the fridge after the black guys had their way with Liv; thus, the fantasy for the Blacks On Blondes members was complete.

I’d also like to point out I’ve hired a lot of married couples – real couples – where hubby is a cuckold.

Did I mention I fed Liv all sorts of lines like, “call your husband pathetic!” and “say your husband can’t fuck you properly!” and “call your husband worthless and weak!” and “say your husband can’t get it up!”, and, like a good sport, Liv did everything I asked.

With a smile on her face.

Fast forward to this year’s AVNs. There’s Liv! I’m excited, cause I really like Liv, and I’d like to think Liv likes me, and we hugged, and we chatted, and I took a pic of her, and we chatted some more, and then a dude in a wheelchair rolled up. I’m thinking it’s a fan looking for a picture, or an autograph, or both. Then Liv introduces me to her husband.

And I’m introduced as the director for Blacks on Blondes, and it doesn’t hit me immediately, cause my brain’s kinda mushy…but after about a minute of chatting it up with Liv’s hubby, I remember the scene. Has Liv shown her husband the scene? Am I man enough to ask?

“Uh, I need to pee. See ya Liv! Nice meeting you, too!” And I bolt.

I wonder if I can do that at the Pearly Gates, when Saint Peter greets me. Create some sort of diversion upon meeting him. The “I’ve got diarrhea” excuse works everytime, cause no one ever wants to question a poor soul with diarrhea.

I wonder if there’s even a toilet nearby those pearly gates, where I could hide in a stall, forever.

I wonder if that’s really Purgatory.

I wonder.