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RICK RYAN'S WORLD: THE PERILS OF WRITING FOR ADULT PUBLICATIONS AND NEWSPAPERS Even though my solid reporting and writing for adult newspapers and magazines didn't start till January of 1974, I did freelance work starting in 1967 for the Berkeley Barb under the name of Sgt. Pepper. The first seven years were nothing. But starting in 1974, the perils of being a writer began in Texas. Yes, it sounds great. You get to meet interesting people, be around naked women, go to nudist camps and swinger clubs, interview porn stars, and literally meet people changing our sex attitudes throughout the years. It can also have a dangerous and dark side, too. Like trying to pick up street hookers for interviews and exploring the dark side of life with those into domination, bondage and discipline, and master & slave. You also your days, your nights, endlessly researching sex, porn stars and questions that people ask you about condoms, low sex drives, etc. Each and every day I have men come up to me saying, "I wish I had your job" or "It must be a great job to have" or "You must get laid a lot!" Yea, right. It's a job like any other, but it does have its perks. That is, the perks were plentiful before I turned 50, but after turning 50 they went down the hill rapidly.  Some people ask what qualifies me to be a writer about sex and the adult industry? Well, the passing of time, knowledge, experiencing most of the stuff you write about, being very observant of people, and having lots of sex with different partners. Not only that, knowing and being around people that are leaders into the world of sex, individuality and originators of unique things like the phone sex business or sexually explicit cam shows on the Internet.But you can't imagine the responsibilities, the pressures, the deadlines, the sheer volume of knowledge you're expected to retain to earn the title of "Sex Expert" or "Dirty Old Man." If you choose this twisted career path - which reallyimages. I just fell into by being a swinger, as you own, here's what you can expect. When you write about swingers, swinger clubs and on-premise party houses, you can never use real names unless the people otherwise tell you so. But even then, I usually use first names only. Why? Because the lifestyle is frowned upon by regular society. I've known couples and singles in all professions of life from the blue-collar worker to professionals. From those who work at fast food restaurants to showbiz and the music industry. From secretaries to lawyers and doctors. From day-care workers to teachers. You could never imagine the crucifixion of a schoolteacher if the school district ever learned of his/her off duty life in the world of swinging. They would be branded as "sex offenders." The same could apply for so many more professions, too. You're also expected to keep silent, in most cases, of what goes on between swingers and swinging parties. Not that these people are ashamed of what they do, oh no, but our society doesn't accept this kind of behavior. Why, you ask? Because of religion and politicians. Swingers are forced into the closet because of society - not because they want to be there. I came out of the closet in the Seventies. Hell, I'm still wearing my John Travolta outfit today.  When you do articles about street hookers, call-girls, escorts, etc., this can present a double blade. First and foremost, you never admit to having the knowledge that these girls are having sex for money. Hell, they can never admit it since it's against the law throughout the United States except for certain counties in Nevada. But, it can also have a dangerous side, too. Just imagine trying to pick up a street hooker for an interview and she turns out to be a decoy prostitute. A policewoman disguised as a hooker. Usually the person is immediately surrounded by police cars and arrested. Today, in fact, the police can impound the car and you never see it again. On the other side, this hooker could actually be a girl with the intentions of getting you to her location where her accomplices intend to rob you. Oh me! You'll be the one that ends up getting screwed, but not the way that most men imagine when they pick up a hooker. Then you have the problem of competition between call-girls and escorts asking you about the business of other call-girls and escorts. A smart guy always keeps his mouth shut unless it's to warn others about a police sting going down that you learn from a working girl. I've always called prostitutes "working girls." Another huge problem that you face as a writer is gaining the trust of these girls. You have to understand they trust no one because of the field of work they're in. So when you come along for one reason or another, you have to be able to gain their trust. The only way that I've found by gaining the trust of these women is by becoming their friend. I have no problem with that, and by my nature, it comes natural. I really do become a trustworthy friend - not a phony! But, you always hope that during the time you may be visiting their apartment or home, well, you hope that the police don't come busting in. Throughout my life I've never faced that problem. However, I can just imagine the police asking me, "How much money did you pay her so you could stick your penis in her?" I would reply, "Pay her? She paid me officer!"When it comes to massage parlors, nude modeling studios, relaxation studios, adult theaters and adult bookstores, there's always the potential of being around when the police raid the place. I personally experienced many raids in Texas during the Seventies, but also in the mid-nineties. Most of the time these raids were being conducted on adult bookstores and theaters. Usually the patrons were not arrested unless they had a warrant out of their arrest, had drugs on their body, or they were engaged in sexually activity. One example of that was Pee Wee Herman in a Florida adult theater. He was masturbating himself when cops raided the place. Wrong place, wrong time! But raids were not always the problem. It seemed as though that police officers didn't know the law themselves or took it upon themselves to dig up dirt on businesses like massage parlors and nude modeling studios. Once I was leaving a business after dropping off some papers and talking with a model that worked there. She had done a layout for Playboy Magazine in previous years and I was going to do a story about her. As I left this business in Houston, Texas, I was no more than 1,000 feet away when a police car came up behind me with lights flashing. Now what a minute! I wasn't speeding. I didn't run a red light or stop sign. All the lights on the car worked. My tags and registration were up-to-date. To make a long story short, the policeman merely wanted to interrogate me about the business I'd just left. In other words, how much did it cost to get laid? This activity by this fine Houston policeman was illegal as hell, but I was so stunned and caught off guard that I never got his badge number and name. Otherwise, I would have reported him to the internal affair's division of the police force. But, to be honest, I ran into that several times in Houston, Austin and Dallas.  In Dallas during 1995, I was about to walk into a relaxation studio on the northwest side of town when a safe team - made up of police, fire and building inspectors and city hall - pulled up behind my car, quickly jumped out of their vehicles, and came up to the front door where I was standing. At the same time a girl who worked there was opening the door. The police immediately asked who I was, but before I said a word, the girl - who knew me - told the police that I worked for a newspaper. That's when the sergeant told me to leave immediately. When I didn't step away within seconds, he threatened me with arrest. I quietly walked away, but drove down the road to warn another business of that nature about the impending possibility of getting a visit from the police force. And, sure enough, before I drove away, here they came. I was later thanked by the business for the pre warning. The safe team terrorized Northwest Dallas for two days, trying to shut down these adult-oriented businesses.In 1974, I covered the trail of a swinger's nightclub in Houston, Texas. An undercover couple, a policeman and woman, went into the Jet Set Club to entice people into breaking the law. When the club was raided and arrest made, they had their day in court. I was standing outside the courtroom with a camera when the undercover couple came walking out after the preliminary trail. I took their photograph and printed it in the following edition of the Texas Free Press, along with an article about the raid and set-up. Eventually, thanks to good reporting, the charges against the club and its patrons were dropped. Thank goodness I didn't live in Houston. Why? I would have probably been the target of the police department every day I walked outside my home. Another peril deals with your personal life. In the Kansas City area I've gone to regular singles' dances and nightclubs that draw a lot of singles to dance and possibly meet that next heartthrob. Well, at least the next dick-throb. I've always been a quite honest person in life, so when a woman asks me what I do for a living, I tell them the truth. Oh, I write for adult publications and take photographs of beautiful, young women in the nude. Yes, I forgot to mention that the camera is part of my trade in writing. No one wants to read an article or story without photographs. So, unfortunately, I have to deal with nude women all the time. Anyway, as soon as the woman learns of my trade, she leaves me standing cold on the dance floor like I have Herpes or AIDS. These women probably fear being compared to all the beautiful, young bodies I see each week. One's with nice, firm, large breasts, very shapely bodies, no stretch marks or fat, and picture perfect shaved vaginas. Should I mention no wrinkles on the face, too? My love life among women my age is gone with the wind. So if you expect to be a sex writer, don't expect to keep a loving relationship going for very long - if any! The only thing you have left to do is this; go back home, jump in bed with some lotion, get the pecker hard if you can, and just imagine as you jerk off what a lousy lay she would have been. Freddy Krueger doesn't bring you nightmares in your sleep, but the women you went at these singles' dances.  Then you have the public to deal with! No matter where I may be, I've always had people walking up to me about sexual problems, asking me about porn videos (whether they are good or not), wanting tips on picking up chicks, women asking me why men cheat, what strip joint to go to, and if I could recommend a hooker or escort for them to see. The public pressure can be too much at times. They apparently think I sample hookers and escorts each day. I only wish! They apparently think I watch porn videos all the time while I stroke it. Well, maybe a little! They apparently think I spend countless hours in strip clubs getting lap dances. My lap wore out a few years ago, sorry! Hell, strippers use to grope me in the front. I'm lucky to get a grope on the backside now. They apparently never think about the sexual problems I have in life. A limp dick, no nookie, and a body that's aging faster than I can count to ten. I don't need to deal with questions from people like, "Is my dick too short?" or "Is my breasts too big?" or "Does my ass feel too big?" or "Do you think my pussy is cute?" or "Should I do her doggy-style?" or "Should I give him a dry or sloppy blow-job?" You don't dare let yourself be recognized in public because of all the questions' people ask you. It's so rude how beautiful women will come up to you in a club and ask for tips on their deep-throating techniques. Ohimages. the pain of it all.And the worst part of it all, you have to write about it all daily from the home in your empty computer room. Then, of course, you have to let people read about all the sick, depraved, twisted things you've done with maps and diagrams. If you become popular, you might end up with your photograph in a magazine or newspaper, get invited to the Dr. Suzy Show in Los Angeles, or even get invited to go on a national talk show like Jerry Springer where everyone can see you, even your mom and high school buddies. But, then again, you end up on the FBI's top ten list, become popular with Republicans, and get invited to churches throughout the country to give seminars on how to avoid being a sex writer. Throughout my many years of writing and taking photographs, there has been an upside to it all. Your sex life, theoretically, improves with all the women you lay during research work on Viagra and the best condom to use. You're expected to surf for porn on the net when researching porn stars, sex cam operators and models. When you do meet a new lover that's overtaken by the job you have, you can coast on your reputation the first few times in bed. Then you have perks like free tickets to Alice Cooper shows, amazing mailing lists from "Preachers Against Head Jobs," etc., personal phone calls from John Ashcroft, often with heavy breathing and minimal security taps, constant visits to strip joints so you could just imagine what the dancer on stage would be like in bed, and interviews with porn stars telling you that you'd never make it as a porn star because your dick is too short.  At least in my younger days I use to get laid a lot as a sex writer. At the age of 57, forget it! But I recall times like when I was down in Houston, Texas visiting the manager of a strip club. Before leaving some dancer yells out to me, "Wait! Don't leave yet. I get off in 15 minutes." I figured she would hustle me for money like most dancers do, but when we left the club together, all I had to do was buy her a six pack and take her back home at 3:30am, ay on the other side of town! I did enjoy examining all her tattoos that night.Swinger clubs have always been fun, too. When you get invited to orgies so you can compare the size of your dick to some other guys, it's a very learning experience. But besides that, you get to fuck every woman there because the older men can't get it up for various reasons. I guess they felt intimidated by my short dick. The other plus to swingers is that you get invited to parties all the time. Well, it beats watching porn videos by yourself. And besides that, sometimes I have the chance to get naked while women laugh at my small dick and skinny body. As I mentioned before, another perk comes about through the lens of my camera. Taking photographs of naked women every day can be hard on an old man, but at least you get a hard-on sometimes. One time I had a girl from Columbia, Missouri who'd made some amateur porn videos come by my home for some photographs to go along with an article about her and the amateur porn company. During the photo shot she was not getting into the mood, so she excused herself to go to the car to get Bob. Bob? Who's that? I don't remember a guy being in her car when she pulled up to my place. When she returned, of all things, she had a bag. Inside that bag was Bob. Her "battery-operated boyfriend." A big ass-vibrating dildo that made my dick shrink immediately. During the rest of the shot she demonstrated how Bob could please her fully. When the shot was over with and she left, I was left with a hard-on and my hand again. Oh well, at least I got to see her get off. Then I'll never forget the first time I covered a male dancer show at Blondies in St. Joseph, Missouri. I was one of only five males, besides the dancers, to be in the club that night. The women packed the club to a standing room only crowd. With my trusty camera I intended to capture the essence of the night. As the liquor flowed and the women got drunk, I became a sex object. It was awful! I had women of all ages pawing me and asking me to dance. One young girl walked up to me, threw her arms around the back of my neck, grabbed my crotch and planted a big smothering kiss right on my lips. I nearly suffocated!  Another time I covered a bikers' camp out in Oak Grove, Missouri. During the late evening I had biker women left and right flashing me with their breasts. I had to take the photographs of the breasts because if I didn't, I would have been beaten up by these gals. Sometimes you're forced into doing things you don't want to do. Know what I mean?
Ohimages. the stories could go on and on and on, but I'm limited too only so many characters per article.
Another requirement is an exhaustive knowledge of your market and your audience. Sex markets tend to be even more specializing than mainstream markets; each magazine often targets a very specific personality as well as predilection. What this means is that in order to sell, you have to do your research; you'll need to study the magazine cover to cover and yes, that means the pictures, too. Whether the subject is BD/SM, female wrestlers, porn stars, big butts, swingers, etc., you've got to know what you're talking about. If you don't, the readers who dig this particular sex subject will know that you have lied through your teeth when writing the article.
Yes, the peril of being a sex writer has aged me too quickly. I've seen more in my lifetime then most people would ever see in four lifetimes. But at least I have a perverted mind, plenty of experience in sex, the knowledge that everyone else is a pervert like me, and that even though people need my help, I'll never give away my trade secrets on getting more women in bed. But be prepared to experience everything you write about, otherwise, the people will know that you are full of Texas bullshit. Oh! Excuse me! I have a phone call from a girl who wants to know whether Viagra really works or not. Damn! Where did I put that little blue pill? Editors Note: Rick was seen on HBO's Real Sex when they filmed a contest being held at a club in Topeka, Kansas a few years ago. He's also been seen on BET (Black Entertainment Network) when they visited the Bunnyranch in Carson City, Nevada back in 1998. |
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