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Archival Abby
Abby's Bio
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Porn Stars and their Panties
A Look at the Lingerie of Adult Film Foxes
It was that time of year, time to travel back in Las Vegas for my
fourth annual trip to C.E.S. That's the Consumer Electronics Show, but
I prefer to refer to it as The Big Porno Convention. Sure, 95 percent
of the festivities are for various computer gadgets and electronic
gizmos, but I'm here for the porno babes with their big tits and all
the drooling fanboys waiting in line for their autographs, for the
bland convention booths overflowing with plastic jelly dildos and
assorted reproductions of porn star genitalia, for the shopping bags
filled with freebies and, of course, for the X-rated equivalent of the
Academy Awards, the AVN Awards.
But for the first time since I started trekking out to Sin City, I'm
actually here on official business. I'm busy hawking my brand new
magazine, Extreme Fetish, drumming up writing gigs and I'm on special
assignment for Panty Play, "researching" a story called "Porn Stars and
Their Panties." Which is, coincidentally, what you're reading!
Now, in the past, this fleshfest has featured plenty of thigh, nipple
and an abundance of bountiful cleavage, so I figured that a few flashes
of panties would be a no-brainerÑor at least no problem. Little
did I know that although these porno babes will show it all—and I do
mean all—for the movin' picture cameras, they're actually shy when it
comes to sharing their underthings with the world!
The first girl I asked was some unknown up-and-cummer at the Anabolic
Video booth. Initially, I wasn't sure I'd heard her answer just right,
so I asked again. "I'm shooting photos for a panty fetish magazine.
Mind if I get a peek of your panties?" When she responded with a
flat-out, "No," I wasn't quite sure how to react. I blinked, still not
understanding, thinking, let me get this straight: you'll take a cock
in each and every orifice and scream wildly while doing it, but you
won't show me your underwear? When it became clear this that was,
indeed, what she meant, I was a bit miffed. I mean, as it is with
regular movie stars, the press—and their fans—are what makes them who
they are. So who the hell was this babe to tell me no? Well, as I've
said, she was a nobody. On to bigger—and more famous—porno babes!
My next stop was to see Nici Sterling, a beautiful Brit whose movies
I've lauded with many gushing reviews. She looked quite adorable in a
long-sleeved white cotton blouse and a pleated tartan skirt—just the
right outfit for flashing panties, don't you think? When I asked if
she'd pose for me, she paused a moment and I braced myself for
rejection. "Just a quick flash?" she asked. Nodding, I positioned
myself for the shot. And a quick flash it was, shy and demure like the
schoolgirl she was costumed to be. But it was also a tantalizing flash,
of tight-fitting high-cut undies accompanied byan even frillier white
lace garter belt, with sexy satin ribbons holding up her black hose.
Yahoo!
I thanked her profusely and waited while she signed her autograph.
Walking away I wondered, why on earth such shyness? All I could come up
with was that perhaps if they hadn't planned on having their panties
showing, the women hadn't coordinated them as part of their ensembles.
And a proper glamour puss does want everything to match just so. Well,
whether Ms. Sterling had intended to flash her undies or not, the
pristine white lace she was wearing went perfectly with her prim and
proper Catholic girl schitck. And when I finally looked down at my
signed photo, it read: "Abby, you can take my panties off any day!"
Prim and proper, my eye!
I jostled my way through the crowd in search of another skirt.
Strangely, an alarming number of porn stars were sporting shorts or hot
pants, in rubber or leather, and I could tell by how tightly the
outfits hugged the ladies' curves that they weren't wearing any undies
to flash. And there were more pants than usual, as well, although they,
too, were all of various shiny, sparkly and extremely tight varieties.
Finally I spotted a skirt on the sexy Jill Kelley. I approached her
with caution, careful not to scare her with my talk of panty
fetishists. She smiled and acquiesced easily, lifting her black leather
skirt up just enough for me to catch the tiniest triangle of covered
crotch, and then—horrors!—as I leaned back to snap the shot, my camera
jammed! Ugh! So much for journalistic excellence. She rolled her eyes
and I jimmied my high-tech disposable, promising her this time it would
work. And click! Another extremely coy exposure of porno panties. She
signed a slick for a friend of mine and I gratefully gave my thanks.
Who next?
At the Cream Productions booth I feasted my eyes on two of John T.
Bone's latest discoveries, Zoe and Harmony Grant. The stunning blonde
Zoe was wearing short-shorts, so there was no chance of seeing her
panties, which was too bad, because let me tell you, she is gorgeous!
But the equally lovely Harmony was wearing a skimpy black velvet number
that barely skimmed her asscheeks, so I motioned to John's
accommodating assistant, Angela, and asked if she thought Harmony would
mind posing. "Of course not! Just ask!" she laughed, dragging the
Barbie-doll blonde up to me for an introduction. Harmony struck a pose,
turning away to give me a good angle on her adorable derriere, and
lifted her dress up all the way to her waist. Snap! I had another notch
in my disposable. And another autograph! I'd hoped for a flash of panty
from Jasmin St. Claire, but alas, she was in a fire engine red latex
cat suit, and believe me when I tell you there were noooooo undies
underneath it!
Making my way through the jam-packed aisles, I noticed a bit of
commotion at the Score Entertainment booth, where a few big-busted
babes were posing for the drooling masses. Now, being on the hunt for
beaver, covered up as it may be, didn't exactly preclude boobs, but
this article is about panties, n'est ce pas? So I scooted in and asked
one of the smilier ladies if she'd give me a shot of her panties. Of
course, it didn't hurt that she was wearing a baby pink waitress
uniform. I just knew that there would be matching panties underneath
it. And I was not disappointed! She gave me a big smile as she flashed
her voluptuous butt, encased in frills and flounces, and then signed
her photo with a big, loopy "Dusty." As in Busty Dusty. Wheee!
Wow! I was exhausted! It was tough work pushing my way through all
those rabid porno hounds and begging for a peek of underpants. I needed
a rest. But while winding my way toward the exit, I came upon adult
film legend—and dirty talker par excellence—Jeanna Fine, who I've had
the pleasure to meet at previous porno conventions. And lucky for me,
she was wearing a dress! Classy chick that she is, I knew there'd be
matching drawers under there. (Actually, knowing Jeanna, I wasn't sure
there would be anything under there, but I figured it was worth a
shot.) Sure enough, her slinky silver ensemble included a matching
G-string, which she had no trouble whatsoever sharing with me.
As I snapped my last snatch of porno panties, about a dozen random guys
were standing behind me, and they all benefitted from my request,
snapping their own shots of Jeanna's shiny sliver of silver fabric. Not
a problem for Ms. Fine, since if there's one thing she isn't, it's shy!
As she scrawled something nasty across her slick for my friend Britton,
I thanked her and asked where the parties were. "I'll be putting my
hand prints—or tit prints, whatever—in cement tonight," she told me,
and I made note of Bill Margold's annual Legends of Erotica Wall of
Fame event. "I've gotta get a drink," I told her as I thanked her and
pocketed my last autograph. She waved goodbye as I made my way through
the last few salivating fanboys in search of some non-porn, non-panty
refreshment. |