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"Okay," chortles Dave, "I just wanted to get my dick sucked."
It's now 1:30, but Azael is nowhere to be seen. The girls are hanging out in low-slung couches, sitting in each other's laps or looking bored. The ponytailed girl in the cheerleader outfit, holding the dolly, walks by. "I'm Bisexual Britni," she tells me. Her skin and hair, like Azael's, are very pale. She looks about fourteen. "What do you think of Azael?" I ask her. "He seems a little eccentric," she says, "but I can't wait to fuck him!"
The next two hours are spent sitting around waiting for Azael to come out of the dressing room. I chat with a guy sitting next to me who's reading a book on the physics of time travel. He says he used to be a libertarian, but now he's an anarchocapitalist. People mill about the snack table, which has been loaded with turkey and bologna.
Finally at 3:30, the director, a bald guy with a long pointy beard and tattoos all over (he's got one on his neck that reads, "WHITE TRASH") walks in followed by Azael and a tall Slavic beauty named Nikita Denise. A cameraman and a grip get set up, and with little fanfare, Azael and Nikita hop on the big bed and begin making out. Photographers throng around the bed, including a video crew from the Howard Stern TV show. Azael has a dazed smirk on his face. He massages Nikita's breasts. After a minute, Nikita flips the codpiece off Azael's leather breeches to reveal his limp dick. She goes to work on it with her mouth while Azael plays with her breasts. Flashbulbs pop like crazy. The room is hushed.
A few minutes later, Nikita lifts her head to check on the progress of her work. Still limp. She peels off her clothes and gets on her back so Azael can mount her. He tries gamely, but nothing happens. "Spit on my pussy," says Nikita. Azael drools a bit of saliva on his finger and rubs Nikita's pussy. "No no," she says, wagging a finger at him and cocking an eyebrow over her slanted eyes. "Spit on my pussy." But he can't bring himself to do it. He goes back to trying to hump her. Meanwhile, all the other girls are sitting next to the bed staring at the disaster unfolding before them. A porn star standing next to me whispers, "I told him that having sex with someone you aren't already intimate with could be difficult."
Suddenly, a faux concrete wall from the adjacent medieval studio falls over and crashes on the ground. The director bursts out laughing. Then he tells all the photographers to clear out. Everyone steps back.
Ten minutes later, Nikita sits up and shouts: "We need more gee-rulls." Skeeter calls in Bisexual Britni and DynaMite, who jump into bed and arrange themselves in a complex daisy chain with Nikita. Azael gets out of the bed and stands up over DynaMite's head. DynaMite sucks Azael's soft cock for about five minutes, but nothing happens. Then Bisexual Britni steps in and gives him an intensely energetic blowjob. "Energizer bunny to the rescue," whispers the porn star next to me. But it does no good.
Finally, Azael gets out of the bed and walks through the crowd of people, who part like the Red Sea to let him pass. His drooping penis flops through the hole in his trousers. Skeeter and the producer meet him near the snack table.
"There are too many cameras!" complains Azael. "They're making it so I can't get wood. I just need to get that first wood and I'll be fine." Skeeter whispers in Azael's ear for a while and Azael nods in consent. Then Skeeter announces that Azael and a couple of the girls are going into the back to work on his problem for a while. Once he's hard, he'll come back out and get in bed with the starlets.
So we wait. And wait. One of the stars goes out onto the balcony and fucks her boyfriend. Another one gives a blowjob to a crew member on the sidelines. Dave Cummings gets into the bed with DynaMite and starts to have sex. He gets an erection instantaneously. After blowing and fucking Dave, DynaMite asks him, "Do you want to jerk off in my face?"
He tells her no, that he'd better save himself for a camera shot in case Azael can't get it up.
At five, Azael and the girls still haven't come out of his closed room. I've got to go to another appointment, so I get the phone number of a guy planning to stay until the end. The next day he tells me what I missed: exactly nothing. The angel has fallen, and he can't get it up.
A few days later, Sexual World Records posts a headline in the form of a blunt math lesson: "1 Man + 13 Girls = 0 Cumshots." This equation however, is incomplete. One willing man, alone with thirteen beautiful and eager young girls will almost always result in something other than zero cumshots. But one (amateur) man, in a room with thirteen girls, twenty cameras, fifty gawkers and a stage with crumbling walls is a surefire equation for impotence.
Azael was unavailable to comment on what had happened that day, but I suspect he'll be breaking his sexual world records in the privacy of his own home for a while, at least.
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