Ex-Miss Delaware Teen USA Outted For Porn Video

English: Monica Lewinsky, from her government ...

English: Monica Lewinsky, from her government ID photo by Office of the Secretary of Defense. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Well, have you heard the news?  Melissa King, the now ex-Miss Delaware Teen USA has been outted for doing a porn video.  She had to resign as Miss Delaware when the media reported that she had done a porn video for $1,500.

A major online porn site has offered her a $250,000 contract to be its global embassador.

The Old Soldier has a piece of advice for Melissa.  Take the money and run.  You’ve been stigmatized.  (She gave her real name during the video, which is something, ladies, you never do.)  Melissa, you are going to find it nearly impossible to get or to keep a good job because your porn history will come back to haunt you.  (Ask Monica Lewinsky who was offered around $250,000 just to pose nude for a well-known men’s magazine after she was outted for performing fellatio on then President Clinton.  She turned them down.  She has been broke ever since.  No one will hire her.)

Although more and more women from all walks of life are doing porn, it is still considered taboo even though tens of millions of American men and women enjoy porn every week.

This Is My Niece Brianna Frost Hogan.  She Does Porn On Her Own Site.

This Is My Niece Brianna Frost Hogan. She Does Porn On Her Own Site.

Porn, my friends, has become mainstream even if we as a society still punish the women who do it.

*****

PS My niece uses her real name but she owns her site.  She makes good money.  It’s her career.  I guess she will stay in the business until her looks fade; then she’ll probably do something else in the sex-as-entertainment field (shoot videos, open a few topless bars…) but she doesn’t have to worry about being outted.  She’s a business woman.  She doesn’t need someone to give her a job.

The Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette is a blog for writers.  This is the Old Soldier reporting from Pittsburgh.

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Heather Kinnane, Martiny Erik And More In January…

A Young Woman, A Self-Proclaimed Nerd, About To Be Gang Banged.  She Took Off Her Glasses.

A Young Woman, A Self-Proclaimed Nerd, About To Be Gang Banged. She Took Off Her Glasses.

I have all kinds of good stuff scheduled for you in January.  First off I will publish the sixth flash fiction story by the talented Australian writer Heather Kinnane.  Heather has more flash fiction stories in the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette than any other writer in the four-year history of this magazine.  Her insightful erotic stories about male/female relationships are very naughty and very nice.

I’ll also be introducing a new guest writer, Martiny Erik.  I think you’ll like his work.

I’m trying to figure out whether I should renew my subscription to the online adult video site that specializes in everyday women doing their first adult videos or to check out the site of my niece Brianna Frost Hogan.  Either way, there will be more reports on women doing porn.

The Old Soldier, that’s me, will be heading back to Del’s Bar and Italian Restaurant for karaoke this Friday.  Which means more reports on karaoke as performance art.

Add to the mix the photo series “Woman As Art” and “The Sunday Flash Fiction Story” along with insights on life, writing and how to write flash fiction with a good mixture of current events and I think the January issue of the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette will keep you happy and satisfied.

There is no place like this place so this must be the place.  This is the Old Soldier reporting from Pittsburgh.

The Sunday Flash Fiction Story (23 December 2012)

A Young Woman Gets Ready For Her Online Adult Video.  She's A College Student.  She Has Sex With Two Men At The Same Time.

A Young Woman Gets Ready For Her Online Adult Video. She’s A College Student. She Has Sex With Two Men At The Same Time.

Well, it’s that time of the week again.  It’s time for “The Sunday Flash Fiction Story.”

It’s around 11:00 a.m. as I’m writing this on a piece of paper at my workstation.  I’ll probably post it later today.  It’s a bright, sunny day in Pittsburgh.  The high will be in the 40s on this winter day.  The Steelers play at 1:00.  If they don’t win they are out of the playoffs. 

I’m drinking a beer and watching a woman getting gang banged.  She’s divorced.  She’s on her back, sucking on a hard penis in her right hand as she jacks off a hard penis with her left hand.  Her legs are wide open as her butt is at the edge of the bed and another man is eating her out.  Several other men wait their turn.  She is definitely in her 40s.

My subscription to this site, which specializes in everyday, amateur women doing their first online adult videos, will run out at the end of this month. 

I don’t know if I’ll renew it or subscribe to the adult site of Brianna Frost Hogan.  She’s my niece.  Her site says she has recently started to have sex with multiple men at the same time.  I haven’t done a new report on women doing online adult videos in some time.  I need new material.

*****

Well, I published the following story of mine in the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette on 9 November 2008.  It’s one of the few times that the Old Soldier has written what could be called an old fashion love story.  Enjoy.

*****

Pittsburgh Confidential

Al Evans was forty-eight years old, a bachelor, and he should have known better. He and Catherine Dunne sat on the sofa in his apartment on Walnut Street. She wore a demure beige dress with black sheer pantyhose. Her socks in her winter boots sat on the mat just inside the door. She drew her legs up under her and took the small, black velvet covered box Al held out to her. She had two teenage sons and a hopelessly alcoholic husband in Philadelphia. Catherine was staying in Pittsburgh for a short time with Al’s brother and sister-in-law. Catherine opened the box.

“Al, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s pure gold.”

He watched her face. She looked around the neat but sparsely furnished living room, then back down at the delicate heart and very, very thin chain set against the red cloth.

“I can’t accept this.”

“No?”

She closed the box and put it on the side table next to her pack of cigarettes and roll of breath mints. She slid into his lap and put her arms around his neck.

“Let’s not think about it,” she said. “I told Holly I wouldn’t be back until later this evening. Let’s not think about anything at all. I just want to forget. Al, make me forget.”

“All right.”

“We’ll be sinful and happy.”

“All right.”

“We’re both adults.”

“Good.”

“We’re not hurting anyone if no one finds out.”

The next two days snow fell in gentle flurries. On the third day Al was invited to dinner by his brother and sister-in-law who lived in one of the best neighborhoods in the city. It was Sunday and an unexpected chance to see Catherine again. Everyone sat at the dining room table.

“Cathy,” Holly said, “would you like to say the blessing?”

“Go on,” Mark said. “You’re the guest, but I just can’t picture Holly as a barefoot hippie with flowers in her hair.”

“Well it was San Fran twenty-five years ago,” Catherine said. “At least Holly got her degree. I dropped out my junior year. But someone else had better say the blessing.”

“Let Uncle Al say it,” Nicky said. She was fifteen.

“He’s an atheist,” Holly said.

“No I’m not.”

“Are you an atheist, Al?” Catherine asked.

“Not at all.”

“He doesn’t believe in anything,” Holly said.

“Yes I do.”

“He’s all right,” Mark said. “I’ll say the blessing.” A few minutes later Mark said, “Cathy, you’re not eating.”

“I don’t seem to have an appetite.”

Al looked at her plate. He saw her glance up at the dining room wall clock. After dinner he finally got a few moments alone with Catherine down in the game room.

“Al, please.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m a guest here.”

“I want to kiss you.”

“Honey, please, not here.”

During the week, Catherine went three times to visit Al at his apartment. Al wondered if Mark or Holly suspected anything. Catherine had left her sons in the care of an aunt. If Catherine’s husband hadn’t gone on another bender Holly wouldn’t have invited Catherine to Pittsburgh and Al would not have been introduced to her. If snow hadn’t stranded Catherine downtown one day while she shopped she wouldn’t have accepted a ride from Al and wound up in his apartment. If over the years Catherine and Holly had not kept in touch Holly wouldn’t have known Catherine’s family had relocated from California to Pennsylvania to be near Catherine’s ailing parents; but Catherine had dreaded flying to Pennsylvania and she was also afraid to drive in snow. Any snow.

Al wanted to be able to kiss Catherine in front of Mark and Holly. He wanted Catherine to be able to accept any gift he gave her. He wanted Catherine never to have to leave Pittsburgh, again…

“When are you leaving?”

“Probably Saturday.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“I don’t want to go.”

Cathedral of Learning at the University of Pit...

Cathedral of Learning at the University of Pittsburgh, Photo Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pjah73/410669224/ (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It was the following Sunday after the dinner at Mark and Holly’s. Church bells were ringing. Al and Catherine walked up the walkway of the Fifth Avenue entrance to the Cathedral of Learning of the University of Pittsburgh. The campus was deserted. Al wore his old army fatigue jacket with the yellow and black patch of the First Cavalry Division on the right shoulder, the horse’s head facing to the rear. Al’s gold captain’s bars, a pair on each epaulet, were only slightly tarnished. A brown muffler hung down from around his neck. He walked with his gloveless hands in the pockets of the jacket.

He and Catherine were bare headed, his closely cut hair thinning with lots of gray in it. Catherine wore sunglasses and kept pulling strands of her shoulder length auburn hair from across her face. She had on sleek black leather gloves and an ankle length dark brown mink coat. Her black leather boots were stacked mid-heels cut low just above the ankles. The boots looked expensive and very fashionable. Al heard water from the melting snow running into the sewers. The sunshine was harsh and all the hedges and the trees were bare.

“Then come back,” Al said. “Come back and marry me.”

They turned to the right and walked on.

“I make good wages,” he said. “The past ten years I’ve religiously saved ten percent of my income. I have a couple of investments. I’m sure your boutique would do well in Squirrel Hill or Shadyside. With our combined incomes the boys would have nothing to worry about.”

“And my husband?”

“Do you love him?”

A flock of pigeons flew overhead. She looked up and watched until the pigeons flew out of sight. She and Al walked down several steps, a thin black railing between them, and strolled to the left toward Forbes Avenue.

“We’ve slept in separate rooms nearly six years now,” she said. “Usually he’s drunk or hung over or just too damn sick.”

“Do you love him?”

“I did once.”

“Do you think you could love me?”

“You want all that responsibility?”

“Yes.”

“Are you always so willing to risk what you have to get what you want?”

“What do I have?”

“Your freedom.”

“It doesn’t feel like freedom.”

They faced each other and waited for the red light to change so they could cross the avenue; but the light seemed to be stuck. Catherine’s hair was alive in the wind.

He said, “I feel good when I’m with you. You don’t diminish me. You add to me. I want to be with you.”

She smiled up at him.

“What?” he said.

“You want to make an honest woman out of me.”

“Hey, that’s the kind of man I am.”…

On Monday Al took a sick day off from work. He had to think things through. He cleaned his apartment. It didn’t need to be cleaned. He had to think things through. That afternoon he phoned his sister-in-law.

“She’s gone?”

“Her bus is scheduled to leave in half an hour.”…

Al parked the low slung red sports car and ran to the terminal. Passengers had not yet boarded the bus to Philadelphia. Catherine was not at the ticket counter, either. He stood in the main area and looked around. He felt panic rising inside of him. He strode into the women’s room.

“Catherine! Catherine!”

No one was in the stalls and the three women at the mirrors above the sinks stopped talking and stared at him. “Get out of here,” one of them said to him. He ran out and ran to the magazine, paperback book and candy alcove. He started running toward the street doors when he saw her through the glass of the cafeteria. She sat at a little table, sipping from a white porcelain cup as she stared at nothing…

“Hi,” he said.

She looked up at him, and then put the cup down in its saucer. Three half smoked lipstick stained cigarettes were crushed out in the black plastic ashtray sitting on the table. A dull black purse with a long strap sat on the table. The purse looked to be made of soft, real leather. She wore an ordinary long coat. The small cafeteria was crowded. He sat down in the other chair at the table.

“You have no right,” she whispered. “You have no right.”

“You’re the finest woman I know.”

“I have a husband, two sons and a boutique to run. And if I’m the finest woman you know…What I did with you is adultery.”

“Marry me.”

“Darling, if I broke up my home it would always be between us.”

“We’ll make a new home. A much, much better home.”

“There’s more to life than love.”

“Is there?”

“I won’t be back.”

The public address system began to announce the departure for Philadephia and all points in between. They sat looking at each other.

She said, “That’s me.”

She stood up and slung the long strap of the purse over her right shoulder. He looked up at her. He did not believe this was happening. It could not be happening. He stood up.

She said, “Al, I do love you. Heaven knows I love you. I’ll always love you.”

The End.

*****

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