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Xpornbest  was formed to help people like you be successful in the adult industry. Whether you want to start an adult website, a dating site or a live cam operation, or you’re a mainstream company wanting to cash in on the multi billion dollar adult industry or even an existing adult company moving into a new market (like North America or Europe), you probably don’t know where to start.

You’ll need hosting, content, processing, equipment, software and scripts, domains, marketing, SEO, legal services, traffic, web and graphic design, programming, software and scripts, information on industry events and potentially other consultants.

You need to know who’s legitimate and who’s not. It’s easy to get ripped off by people who are either not honest or not good at what they do.

A lot of porn these days is filmed not on a dedicated set, but in the apartments/condos/vacation homes of directors and other industry folks that all trade with each other, for more variety. This is characteristic of the ‘pro-mateur’ style which is stylistically shaped to appeal to people who like amateur porn, but actually involves paid actors and more professional camera equipment, to maintain the illusion that it’s the couple’s own home.

While it may seem like the job itself is pretty high intensity just by definition — it’s your job to hook up on camera and look like you are having a ton of fun while you are at it — like with any office place, a lot of wild stuff can also happen behind the scenes.

From random faux pas to body issues (hell, we’ve all farted in our personal lives during bedroom fun, and it happens on screen too), all sorts of unexpected and unrelated complications can also happen. Did you accidentally get stoned? Were you in a really weird backdrop that just kept on getting weirder? That’s all happened to porn stars.

I put all the best stuff on a DVD and called it DOD’s Greatest Hits. DOD was my boxing name: Do or Die. The girls loved it. I liked it. Not for public viewing. Just for us. But someone put the video up on local cable. Unfair to me and the women. We didn’t consent to this. I contacted them and while they gave no explanation, they took it down. We made only about 15 DVDs, but who knows? Someone may have made extra copies.

Anyway, I never received a dime from it, but a producer heard about me — an MMA fighter/porn star — and contacted me. As a fighter, I fought to defend myself, not to become a champion. But I found a way to make money from a hobby. I guess it was the same with sex. In total, though, outside of the ones I’d already done, I’ve probably shot about 24 scenes.

So many people — dudes mostly — think it’s easy. But you have a roomful of people, from the director, video guy, photographer, lights and makeup, and you’re trying to keep an erection and “act” like you’re into the scene — one of the actresses I worked with was a lesbian but she was a great hetero performer, and you’re trying to please your partner or yourself.

Meanwhile, people around you are thinking camera angles, stopping and starting you so they can take still photos. I mean, my first professional experience, I got pink from the bright lights being so close. Plus sometimes, you have boyfriends and girlfriends on the set and there are jealousy issues. And really, you’re doing something intimate with someone who you don’t really know that much about.

But a scene is six positions at six minutes apiece. Guys get about $250 per scene, and ladies are making about $800 per scene. So you also have to be in shape to do few scenes a day.

When I opened my gym, although I had already shot scenes years earlier, it came out right away. A hater confronted me all flipped out: “I saw your tattoos!”

I said, “Bro, I don’t know,” because I hadn’t seen it. “I don’t look at porn videos though. Also, I never said I don’t DO porn. But if you’ve seen it, it was me … and?”

But I never understood the pushback. It’s totally legal. I also get negativity from people about diseases, but when you’re working, you have to be tested every three months. Blood tests too. You also have to be sober. You have to sign a release. You have a better chance of catching a disease on a Friday night having a drunken, mistake-filled one-night stand.

So I was getting paid for shit people do for free all the time, religious or not. But I knew a stripper who was denied custody of her kids because of her work. I was shocked. She was a good mom who made $100,000 a year LEGALLY!

People always ask me how I would feel if my kids were to see it, and I say, “My kids don’t look at porn.” But look, they know Dad wasn’t perfect. That I’ve been to prison, lost fights in the ring, the cage, whatever. I have seven kids, so I used to say I had sex seven times, but I can’t pull that joke anymore.

Something you should know though: I think my scenes were successful because we had a female director. She told me, “Men don’t buy porn, they watch it free on the internet. Women buy.” So we geared toward women. No angry name calling, lots of hot kissing — you know, reality.

But so many people like sex and so many — almost always behind the scenes — give me high-fives for my adult video stuff. When the cops seized my phone a few years ago, they probably were shocked to find out who was in there: CIA, FBI, SBI, UFC, politicians and female porn stars and strippers.

Perhaps I should back up. A few months earlier, I’d gotten divorced, and, hoping for a fresh start in life, I moved to Phoenix, taking a job one of my buddies had been hinting at wanting me at for years now. I’d met this girl, Connie, on an online dating site, which I’d joined because I was tired of the girls I met at bars and yoga classes, the two main places I went where women frequented. While she’d seemed nice over messenger, the photo she had sent was well over 10 years old, and we seemed to have absolutely nothing in common. We didn’t like any of the same music (literally), she seemed to adore the trashy reality tv and fluff entertainment I despise, there was at least 15 years separating us, she wasn’t my physical type, and while I tend to be studious and at least a bit sarcastic and humorous, she was, to be frank, a bit shallow and her sense of humor seemed lacking at best. I couldn’t think of two people who had less in common than we did, and while I certainly wasn’t looking for anything serious at the moment, I seriously felt zero spark with this woman. I asked myself if I was just being overly picky, or principled, but shrugged it off and realized that nothing about her turned me on, minus a reasonably cute face and absolutely gigantic breasts, which were amply displayed. Online dating .

Mercifully, then, her phone went off. She glanced down, then announced “It’s my babysitter. I need to take this,” as I indicated I understood. I looked at the bartender, who was giving me a look of sympathy, having no doubt heard our awkward banter, and indicated that I would be right back. I started toward the rest room, plotting my exit strategy as I went.

It was then that I saw her. Raven black hair, striking blue eyes. Small, slender, but with a very generous amount of curve on her frame. I could see a few tattoos on her, peeking out from underneath her top, along with a tiny stud in her nose and a piercing in her eyebrow. Two words went through my mind. Bad Girl. Cliche, I know, but still, I knew I had to meet this woman. As I walked by, she glanced over and made eye contact with me, and a sly smile played around the corners of her mouth. I considered stopping, but instead went to the restroom and did my business. I glanced in the mirror, and did a quick gut check. Now, I stand decently tall at 6′ even, with a slimmer, decently toned bod, brown hair, green eyes, and I know I’m relatively good looking, but I’ve never been the classic pretty boy, nor have girls ever flocked to me. But a few months from my 30th, I could still pass for a college kid, and as I splashed a little water on my face after washing up, I had the feeling that I was playing with house money tonight, so what the fuck, right?

On the way back, I glanced at the front, noticing Connie still on the phone. I saw the back of the head of my object of lust, considered a few different approaches momentarily, and quickly trashed them all, figuring what the hell, I’m already on a shitty date, what’s one more rejection at worst? So, with little fanfare, I sat down in the booth on the same side as her, and just launched in headlong.

“Hi. My name’s Martin. Sorry to barge in, but I’m currently on one of the worst dates of my life, I saw you, and I wanted to at least talk to an attractive girl before going home and cursing my night. How’s your night going.”

The look on her face was a bit shocked, as I could tell men didn’t often approach her like this, but then it muted and changed to amusement. She tilted back a bit, extended her hand, and said “Hi Martin. I’m Tiffany. This is my friend Marsha.” I shook her hand, lingering a moment but not too pervy, and then gave Marsha a quick shake as well. Marsha was cute, in that blonde, I’m trying to look like a California beach babe even though there is no beach nearby way, but Tiffany was the real head-turner for me. “So,” she continued, “what’s so bad about your date?”

“Oh, nothing monumental,” I shot back. “She’s very nice. She’s just about 15 years older than me, and she’s kind of a country and disco listening, church-going kind of gal. And I’m the exact opposite.”

“Is that so?” she asked, staring directly into my eyes, and I could tell she was evaluating me. I knew my next play had to be right.

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” I paused, maintaining eye contact. “Anyway, I was planning on calling it a night on my date soon, but after I walk her to her car, I’d like to come back and buy you a drink. Both of you, that is.” I watched them exchange a meaningful glance.

“Yes, I think I’d like that,” Tiffany replied. “Go do the polite thing, and hurry back if you can. Nice to meet you, Martin.”

I nodded my head, and set out on my mission. Fortunately, when I got back up to the bar, Connie was already on her way back in, hanging up her phone. “I have to run, I’m sorry. The babysitter is having trouble getting Emma to sleep. Maybe we can do this again sometime?”

“No problem,” I told her, as I signaled the bartender to close out my tab, and signed my receipt. “Let me walk you to your car.”

I opened the door for her, chatting amiably as we made our way down the block, until she stopped next to a beige Toyota. “This is me.”

“OK. Well, good luck with the babysitter and the baby, and thanks for coming out to meet me tonight.”

“Martin. Listen. I think we had a slightly rocky first date, which was mostly on me, I was distracted and my head is in a weird place tonight. Maybe I can make it up to you sometime?” And before I could answer, she swarmed in, hugged me closely, and gave me a very sweet peck on the lips. What the hell?

“Yes, I’d like that,” I responded, secretly a bit bewildered.

“Good. I’ll call you.” And with that, she got in her car, started it, and drove off, waving as she went. I stood there confused for a minute, but then shrugged it off, going back toward the bar, taking special care to remove all traces of lip gloss she left behind.

When I arrived back in, I was pleased to see my object of lust was still there, and casually sat down beside her. “I have taken care of all other obligations this evening, ladies, and am free to socialize with you now,” I said, affecting a stuffy air.

“Gee, thanks,” Tiffany shot back sarcastically. “You’re in a good mood for somebody who just let a woman down,” she said, arching an eyebrow.

“Actually, I’m under the impression she may want another one. Apparently we were on different dates.”

“Odd.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well either she thinks you’re cute, or she’s just had so many shitty dates lately that you’re an improvement,” she noted.

“So it’s either my physical appearance or the fact that the bar has been set incredibly low for her that is getting me in her good graces?” I asked.

“Exactly.”

“Not my witty repartee or cynical charm?”

“Nope,” she shot back. I noticed Marsha wincing while she tried to suppress a giggle.

“Well, I’ve been called worse things than a bimbo fishing in the lower expectations pond, I suppose. Premium Escorts .” They both burst out laughing. Score one for me.

“Touche, bud, touche,” she laughed, shaking her head. And with that, I had a feeling I had her attention, and the banter just started. She dragged a good deal of information out about me, but I noticed that she was very reserved about certain topics, for instance, only saying she was part owner of a film production company, but was very effusive on music, food, and even politics and religion, which she actively brought up. She seemed fiery, and I really, really wanted to see how far that extended.

About this time, Marsha made her excuses, and begged off for the night. When hugging her friend goodbye, the two of them shared a conspiratorial whisper, and then giggle, and I knew they were talking about me. I was hoping my chances of getting some had just increased. “Say, I’m also considering getting out of here. Do you want to help me walk Marsha to her car?” I agreed, paid the bill, and walked discreetly behind them as they chatted. Marsha said her goodbyes again, then drove away. Tiffany turned, looked at me, pulled me to her by the belt, then abruptly kissed me, roughly and passionately, grinding her body into me. I liked where this was going. The best adult seo .

I had just been fucked for the first time. I couldn’t believe what I had just done. Some stranger had just used my ass for their own pleasure. Someone had stuck their dick INSIDE me. What was I doing? What kind of slut would do something like this? I didn’t even know this guy, and I agreed to meet him, and let him pound my virgin hole.

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