Inside Seka - The Platinum Princess of Porn

by Seka

  We had our lunch and several cocktails. I think I had more than him, which was unusual and he found it very amusing. “You’re in shock,” he said.

  “You’re probably right,” I laughed.

  When we got home he was like a little kid as he busted out all the wedding materials. I thought, “Wow, the man sure has a romantic side.”

  Then the process started. I couldn’t find my birth certificate and we had to wait on the state of Virginia. I also had to dig up my last divorce papers from 1982.

  There was a jewelry show in Kansas City. We looked and looked for half a day and came upon this one booth where the gentleman had made some incredibly gorgeous wedding bands. The one I loved most did not have a center stone in it, so he pulled out loose diamonds. I picked one and Carl said, “That’s not big enough.” He chose a gorgeous center stone and it turned into one big honkin’ ring. Then I picked out a band for him.

  When the jeweler put a gadget on my finger to get my ring size, I realized I would be wearing this ring forever. I got very hot, started sweating, and needed a drink of water. The numbness and shock were starting to fade and reality was setting in. This wasn’t a dress rehearsal; this was for real.

  56. Get Me To the Beach On Time

  Seven Mile Beach in the Grand Cayman Islands is beautiful, pristine, and romantic, but very, very hot. We were going to hold the ceremony at noon, but moved it to 11 a.m. to beat the worst of the heat, if only slightly.

  I wrote something especially for the ceremony. I had actually first found it on a card, but it was just so perfect I borrowed it for my wedding and had the words printed underneath his favorite picture of me. It was rolled up sort of like a scroll with a really pretty ribbon to be put around it. Reading it over and over, I figured it would be easy to recite at the actual ceremony. Oddly, I wasn’t worried at all. I figured it would all go off without a hitch. But at the last minute I couldn’t find my ribbon and was going crazy. Frantic, I had the concierge search for a ribbon, which he finally dug up close to the start of our ceremony.

  We were in the lobby of the most gorgeous hotel I had ever seen in my life. It had twenty-foot ceilings with the most elegant island decor. There were hundreds of fresh tropical flowers. And the service was exquisite. I felt like a queen.

  All of our guests gathered in the lobby and were drinking mimosas and waiting for us to arrive. My friend Agnes and I went upstairs to meet everyone. Our closest friends were all there and everyone looked so damn happy.

  I wasn’t nervous yet, although I kept anticipating I would become shaky. What woman wouldn’t be nervous at her wedding? It wasn’t like I had done it a hundred times. Well, a few, but none as ornately or as meaningful as this. It was strange in that way. This was my third marriage, yet it felt like my first and only. The other two were unplanned afterthoughts to men I never dreamed of spending the rest of my life with. My non-marriages in between, to people like Ken and Jim, may have lasted longer, but were unhealthy and lacking in true, romantic love from the start and throughout. Sometimes we spend time with a partner simply because it beats being alone. But here I was, over fifty, and for the first time in my life, it was the real thing.

  Downing a glass of champagne, I asked Agnes to grab me a couple bottles of water to take with. The company hired to marry us picked us up to bring us to the beach location. We got into this little van. It wasn’t a fabulous limousine or grandiose in any way, but none of that mattered. This wasn’t for show; it was for life.

  When we got there and stepped out it was already really hot and muggy. I started to sweat profusely, and it wasn’t because of the heat. It all finally hit me. I was shaking.

  The sand was sugary white and the smell of fresh ocean water was overwhelming. I took my shoes off and Carl did the same. We stood on the beach and there was pretty music playing softly in the background on a little boom box. We had a video guy there and while everyone was comfortably dressed and casual in shorts with tropical colors, it still felt very romantic. I had on a cream-colored long ankle-length silky skirt and a gold faux turtleneck short-sleeve little tank top with gold pearls. Not exactly a traditional outfit. Then again, nothing I have ever done is traditional.

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen Carl look more handsome than that day. He had a great tan and white linen pants with a short sleeve Cuban-style shirt. Instead of having flowers, we both had a Hawaiian lei. The minister was from the Grand Caymans and had long trousers and a really colorful Hawaiian shirt. But as casual as everyone was dressed, it still felt very serious to me. I had no doubts about Carl. But I still had the sweaty jitters.

  They sprinkled lavender and dark pink orchids all over for us to stand. I guess that was supposed to be the altar. In the backdrop was the most aqua pristine ocean I had ever seen.

  Carl grabbed my hand and it felt like he was holding on for dear life. I started to read what I’d written to Carl and was crying the entire time. I literally couldn’t get through it. It was just so hard to read. Nobody could even hear me because I was talking so quietly.

  “It’s amazing what merely being near you does to me. It’s something that goes beyond my control or understanding. Just your physical closeness triggers something primitive deep inside of me. It makes me want — no, need — to touch you, breath you in, become a part of your warmth. I think I can live forever in the shelter of your arms, finding sustenance in your embrace, happiness in smoldering kisses that impress more than words ever could. It’s such a miracle that out of the whole universe you and I found each other. You are the lover I never believed could exist. The one person who could make my fantasies come true. The one person I could love forever.”

  When it was all over Carl and I took a walk down the beach. He said, “You were having a really hard time with it. Can you believe we’re actually married?” I was even shaking when I signed the marriage license.

  After all the cake and champagne we went back to the Ritz Carlton swimming pool for what I’d loosely call a reception. We basically decided to just go back to the pool and get hammered. We were all hanging out, eating, and splashing around in the water.

  Our guests decided they’d take us out for our wedding dinner. Two brought two more of their friends and they joined us for the evening festivities. But one of these strange women began hitting on Carl the whole time. He started to look uncomfortable. I mentioned it to him and he said, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to be rude. I’m not doing anything.”

  “I know you’re not,” I said. And this was the day I got married no less.

  I inched over and sat down next to her. I had a smile on my face the whole time so nobody else would know what was going on. “I just married this man today and I love him dearly, and if you don’t leave him alone I’m going to put your head through a wall.” She didn’t have much to say to that. She left with her friend shortly thereafter. You can take the girl off the basketball court, but you can’t take the basketball out of the girl.

  We went back to our room for the big wedding night and I was starting to feel the effects of the whole thing. My stomach was sick from everything. When the smoke cleared, we didn’t consummate our marriage on our wedding night. Two out of three wedding nights, chaste. Ah, another irony for the porn queen!

  But waking in Carl’s arms, it was clear why I’d been so nervous all day. I looked and searched so long and hard to find someone who loved me for me. Not because I was Seka, but someone who wanted to be with me, Dottie. I looked at him and realized everything I’d ever wanted was right here.

  Some shots Carl took of me in the late 1990’s.

  Bobbie Joe, my “Kansas City husband” when my real husband was out of town. Strictly platonic. Also one of my only straight hairdressers. He told me he’d die a happy man if he got to meet me. He did, and then he did. I miss him terribly.

  With Jasper of Jasper’s restaurant in Kansas City.

  I’ll do anything for a laugh. That’s me at “Jewelry by Morgan” in Kansas City, dresse
d as Mae West.

  I even work on my honeymoon! 2006 Grand Caymans photo shoot.

  2011 Christmas card photo with the love of my life, Carl.

  57. Reflections

  If I could live my whole life over again, I wouldn’t do anything differently, because if I did, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. And I happen to like the person I am today.

  I’m certainly aware there’s still a stigma attached to having made adult films, and even in what I do today with my website. Hell, I could have become a nun over the past twenty-five years and never erased my “scarlet letter.” But I honestly have no regrets.

  As far as the people who lied, cheated, and stole from me, I can’t say I’m strong enough to forgive them. I believe people who do bad things with a malicious heart don’t deserve to be forgiven. Greed is extremely ugly and karma is a bitch. I could look back at my life and say, “Woe is me.” But if you’re perpetually angry and hurt, it’s hard to move forward.

  I live a comfortable lifestyle. I’m pleased with it. I have a three-bedroom, two-bath house in a quiet suburban neighborhood with nice neighbors. Nobody would mistake it for a palace, and we’ll never end up on one of these shows where celebs take you into their home to show off how rich they are. But since I was a little kid I’ve always wanted a house with a yard and garden. Carl and I have a place that reflects our personalities and there’s a certain mood to each room. I love my gardening and just lying in bed and watching TV. Sure, I could have been more frugal and built a much larger nest egg, but I wanted to travel — to see and experience the world. However, like most others, you get older and calm down a bit. And that’s the way I like it.

  There was only one person at my husband’s job aware of my being Seka the Porn Star. It’s not that I’m ashamed of anything, but people prejudge me and Carl because of my career. Folks are so ignorant and think they know you before they actually get to know you. I tell people I’m “just a housewife.” I don’t want anything to interrupt our golden years. There’s always the possibility of him being released from a job because of my past. We’re in the heart of the Bible Belt and sometimes Carl will say “hell” or “damn” at work and they’ll actually say, “We don’t appreciate that kind of language here.” Imagine what they would say if they knew I was the former Platinum Princess of Porn. To me it’s ignorance, but it’s also reality.

  The ironic thing is my movies, comparatively speaking, are actually campy, almost funny. We didn’t do the type of “wham, bam, thank you ma’am” brutal gonzo-type porn films that are so prevalent today. We had that canned “wah-wah” ridiculous porno music. Now the music is gone and replaced with “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” over and over again, screamed at the top of one’s lungs. Most of our acting fell under the “so bad it’s good” category. We had fun with what little script there was. Some people look upon our work fondly, like it’s quaint and even deserving of artistic preservation and analysis, although that makes me laugh, too. I don’t take myself too seriously. When comedian Dave Attell asked me to appear on his TV show to laugh at our flicks, I had a blast. I’d do that again in a minute. It’s the same when I do radio or other TV shows. I’m less of a sex symbol now and more of bawdy comedian. Every comic talks about sex, but how many actually did porn for a living?

  Sometimes I watch the films and think how poorly we were dressed and how ridiculous our hairstyles were. At the time, I was thinking, “Boy, I look hot!” But then again, didn’t we all?

  The movies will also be a barometer of where this country was sexually in the 1970s and early eighties. When I was doing adult films there was no war and people were open to trying new things. They were a lot looser. But in today’s violent world where there are wars everywhere, porn is far more violent. There’s a connection, and a lot of what’s out in the market today is just ugly to me.

  It’s also no surprise that politicians who try to be the morality police and shut down the adult industry are the ones who always end up with their hands in the cookie jar in some kind of sex scandal. They should all just realize something — we serve a societal purpose and we’ve been around forever. I’m no archeologist, but I’ll bet a large percentage of cave drawings are of people having sex. If it weren’t for sex and our desire for it, none of us would be alive.

  Why did I end up in the adult film industry? I’m sure a psychologist could come up with all kinds of reasons. I didn’t exactly have your typical childhood. But when all is said and done, sex never seemed weird or bad to me. It was a different era and I was at a different place in my life. It seemed intriguing, fun, and I actually liked what I was doing. If I didn’t like someone, I didn’t work with them. Ditto if I wasn’t attracted to them. And if there was a sex act I wasn’t comfortable with, I wouldn’t do that either.

  As strange as it may sound to some, I’m proud of what I’ve done. I did a really good job, or at least the best I was capable of. I was paid decently for it — at least compared to others in the same industry. I think I’ve paved the way for other women in the business. I opened the doors a little wider for other women to make bigger and better inroads into what was once a male-dominated business. I didn’t take shit from any man in the industry, and I encouraged the other girls to do the same. When you put yourself in a mindset that you can take it or leave it, the worst that people can hang over your head has been taken away from them. You gain the upper hand.

  I was also always honest with my family about what I did for a living. I never made up excuses or placed the blame on anyone but myself. I chose what I did, I did it for money, I liked it, and if they couldn’t handle it, that was their problem. They didn’t have to hear it from the neighbors, or see me on TV and be shocked by it.

  I remember when my grandmother was still alive in the eighties and I had one of my calendars with me. She said, “Honey, what is that?”

  I said, “Grandma, it’s a calendar of me and most of the pictures are of me nude.”

  She said, “I’m sure it’s very nice, but that’s not something I need to see.” If only the rest of the world were so accepting.

  As miniscule as we are as human beings, I feel we should slow down enough to actually know someone before judging them, and to be kinder to one another. Being happy, loving, and non-judgmental relieves a lot of stress from your life.

  Would I recommend the adult industry for everyone? Absolutely not. I can live to one hundred and the stigma will never go away. As proud as I am of myself as a person, it still sucks to be treated shabbily by ignorant haters. I have feelings, too. If you think you can do a few movies, make some quick cash, and get out, you’re wrong. It’ll never go away. And that’s something most people don’t think about before they jump in.

  I wrote this book to clear up some things about my life: who I was and was not married to. Ken is number one in that field, but I’m shocked to see how many others I’ve been linked to. The Internet amazes me. So much information, so much of it wrong. There’re other things in my life that were misconstrued and far from the truth. I also thought it would be interesting, for a change, to present an adult star who wasn’t a teen runaway, wasn’t sexually abused as a child, isn’t desperate for mainstream crossover success, and doesn’t straight out lie and whitewash what she did.

  Adult film stars don’t have horns. We’re not going to come and corrupt you. I’m a normal, everyday person who happens to have chosen a different path. But no matter what I do with my life, I will always be Seka. That won’t go away. And while I like my quiet life in the ’burbs, I still enjoy meeting fans and hanging out with colorful and creative people. At my husband’s recent sixtieth birthday party, I had industry people like Cousin Stevie mixed with schoolteachers, writers, retirees, and friends and neighbors from every walk of life. I enjoy that. I don’t want to be bored.

  As far as dollars and cents, like anyone else I’d like to be comfortable. I don’t need to be rich. I’ll keep improving my site, and one day hopefully find a nice little beach cottage
and live out the rest of my life with my husband.

  I’ve had plenty of tragedy, but others have had worse. Just because I had some bad things happen in my life doesn’t mean I need to keep it with me at all times. I’ve tried to let it mold me and make me a better and stronger human being because of it.

  In my life, I have had many people judge me because I had sex for money on screen. But I am who I am. And I know who I am. I did what I did willfully and with forethought. Regardless of what you think of me, when you see me walking down that street I will always have my head held high.

  When I want to look my best, I use makeup artist Alexis Vogel, as does Pam Anderson and many other major stars.

  Seka today.

  Seka today.

  Seka today. With my co-author Kerry Zukus and comedian Dave Attell (Dave’s Old Porn).

  My newest hobby: my virtual world at Utherverse.

  Afterword by Bobby Slayton

  Wow! When Seka called and asked me to write something for her book the first thing that came to mind was not how many others she asked before she settled on me. No, the first thing that came to mind was, “Seka is calling ME!” There’s nothing that affirms your standing as a man, nothing that gives a boost to your masculinity and your testosterone, than having your wife call out from the next room, “Bobby, telephone. It’s Seka.”

  So I didn’t really care if I was the first person she asked or the hundredth — Seka was calling. And I’d better say some extremely nice things about her since I’m also writing a book and might need her help. Wonder if she gets all excited when her husband yells out from the next room, “Honey, that idiot Slayton on line two.” I’m thinking no.