Sex on camera
Saturday, May 22nd, 2010
Following on with the theme of voyerism and exhibitionism, here’s a forray into a book about someone who spends a lot of time having sex in front of a camera.
The article below is by M. King
In Devil & the Deep Blue Sea, average—albeit slightly shy and geeky—guy Jacob meets and falls for the stunning, confident Laszlo. There’s only one problem: Laszlo works in adult films and, though he’s honest about it from the very first, Jacob finds the idea, and the reality, of dating a porn star deeply uncomfortable.
He tries to rationalize it; after all, he watches porn, and intellectually he knows there’s a thriving industry behind it, but he still struggles to overcome his prejudices…and his jealousy.
In contrast, Laszlo, both emotionally and sexually, is expansive and uninhibited. He’s a total exhibitionist, in the sense that he unreservedly enjoys both giving and receiving pleasure. Laszlo takes pride in the power his sexuality gives him, but he keeps his working persona, ‘Maxim Winter’, distinct from his personal life.
Though the book is written from Jacob’s point of view, we learn Laszlo is nervous about how revealing his line of work will affect things between them. Most of his past relationships have been ruined by the same pattern of jealousy and recrimination that now threaten his and Jacob’s romance, yet Laszlo refuses to feel a shred of guilt about what he does.
On one level, he treats it as any other career—he promotes himself on the internet, and shares anecdotes and gossip from the sets with Jacob, almost failing to realize that telling his boyfriend about something funny that happened while he was having sex on camera with another man is going to cause tension.
To Laszlo, personal and professional, or emotional and sexual, are totally different things. When Jacob challenges him, he is mocking and sarcastic, angered by hearing the same questions and complaints he has heard so often before.
Abruptly, Laszlo pushed away from the window, voice sharp and raw.
“Because the money’s good, it feels good, and I look fuckin’ awesome doing it! Okay? That what you want to hear?”[…] “Come on, next one.” He threw his hands up in spiteful encouragement. “Quick! Aw, come on. There’s always a next one. ‘Why aren’t I enough?’ How about that?”
For Laszlo, being Maxim Winter is about freedom. Exhibiting his body and sharing his most intimate physical moments with an unseen audience—potentially of several thousand people—is an empowering, liberating thing.
However Jacob, almost by default, finds himself cast as a voyeur, and he doesn’t enjoy it. For him, there is a clear and finite line “between fantasizing about a hot scene, and thinking about the reality of fucking for money in some anonymous hotel room or semi-public studio.”
Early in their relationship, Jacob forces himself to watch one of Maxim Winter’s movies. He’s turned on by what he sees, but at the same time hates the reality of watching Laszlo:
Jacob couldn’t sit through any of those scenes to their completion. He hated seeing Lasz—Maxim—vulnerable in front of the camera, when his chest flushed and his breathing tautened and his body bucked against someone else’s. Stupid, Jacob told himself, because it was fucking hot and—in any other movie—he’d have loved it. Any other actor. But, knowing him, it just seemed wrong.
The problem for Jacob is that his voyeurism is automatically transformed into hypocrisy. He knows that, by being honest with him, Laszlo has nothing to be ashamed of, and no reason to apologize. But, next to his effortless, feral sexuality, Jacob feels inferior, and that enrages him.
As Jacob descends deeper into circuitous, self-absorbed jealousy, he is torn between his growing love for Laszlo, and the loss of control with which that emotion threatens him.
Ultimately, that—the question of how much we truly share ourselves with others, and how we deal with the act of doing so—is the central theme with which Devil & the Deep Blue Sea engages.
And there are no quick, easy answers.





There’s something about werewolf stories, isn’t there? The danger, the thrill that when the full moon arrives the man changes into the beast. In my series, The Unusual, my werewolf is just that. Unusual, because he can control his change times, becoming a werewolf at will. That’s handy for him, because he’s a killer out to take trophies from his victims and present them to Lee, the man he loves. In his warped way, he thinks the object of his desire will understand why he receives various body parts, left on his property or sent through the post. Obviously, Lee doesn’t understand, and the ‘gifts’ do nothing but make him uneasy and scared. Who wouldn’t be freaked at finding a severed hand in their back yard? Who wouldn’t be scared witless by getting an ear in the post?