Ron Jeremy: The Hardest Working Man in Showbiz by Ron Jeremy
Ron Jeremy made a bunch of money by adding humor to porn. The basic recipe was for Ron to just to be randomly witty, though he'd often use the blowjob scene as a chance for comedic monologue, e.g.
Girl starts in on her big task...
Ron: Remember...
Girl looks up
Ron: ... you want to be like Cinderella,
Girl stops moving
Ron: ... you just want to get to the Ball...
Ron shoves the girl's head down
Ron: zzz, baby
later on...
Ron: Oh wow. You give head like Paul Walker
Girl looks up with eyes full of WTF
Ron: It's so good, I'm gonna lose control ...
Girl's eyes smile
Ron: ... and drive us into an accident!
Girl snarfs and ejects...
“Oh come on, Ron,” Vosse yelled at me. “Hide it behind her leg or something.” “I’ll try,” I told him. “We can’t shoot anything until you get that thing out of the way.” “I’m doing what I can.” “I have an idea,” Marilyn said. We both turned to her. She had a mischievous grin on her face. “You can hide it right here.” Boom, right in her vagina. She slipped it inside so casually I almost didn’t realize what was happening. But when she started thrusting against me, my jaw very nearly dropped to the floor. I was screwing Marilyn Chambers! Me, a punk kid from Queens, a relative nobody in the industry. I couldn’t believe it. The world must’ve turned on its axis. There was no other reasonable explanation for my good fortune. Vosse frowned at us, but then just shrugged and began snapping pictures. “Fine,” he said. “Works for me.” I’m not sure how long we were fucking before I heard a door swing open and heavy footsteps heading toward us. I was having too much fun to care, but out of the corner of my eye I could see a huge figure standing near Vosse. I turned and saw Chuck Traynor, Marilyn’s husband and manager, glaring at us from the sidelines. I thought that I was going to have a heart attack. I’d never met Traynor before, but I knew his reputation. He was Linda Lovelace’s former husband, and the man responsible for orchestrating her porn career. Lovelace had just published a book called Ordeal, in which she claimed that Traynor had beaten her and held a gun to her head during the making of Deep Throat.
It’s not unusual for boyfriends to loiter around the set to watch the action. The business calls them “suitcase pimps,” which isn’t the kindest nickname.
He asked if I was interested in doing a photo layout with Marilyn Chambers for a new book called Marilyn Chambers’ Love Positions. I nearly crapped in my pants. This wasn’t just another job; it was a chance to work with a legend, the star of Behind the Green Door and the Resurrection of Eve. I was in awe of Chambers, and not just because of her incredible body and scorching sexual prowess. She had a business savvy about her career, which was a rarity among actors in the adult industry. She was smart enough to negotiate a contract with producers that gave her a percentage of the gross from her films. With the profits from Green Door alone, she probably made more than a few million in two years.
From the moment I walked into the doors of Plato’s, I knew that I was home. It was a swingers’ club straight from the smuttiest edges of my imagination. Located in the basement of the Ansonia Hotel on the Upper West Side, it had once been known as the Continental Baths, an all-gay bathhouse that launched a young Bette Midler’s singing career.