Words by Rain DeGrey

Rocco Siffredi. The man, the myth, the magic penis. Anyone that is a fan of rough sex has heard of him. His skill at deconstructing a woman to shattered pieces with his massive dick was legendary, and rightfully so. He used his cock as a tool to take women apart, reducing them to a puddle of flesh quivering at his feet, their eyes glazed over as they babbled nonsensical fragments while various fluids leaked out from all of their holes.

Alas, Rocco was Italian and mainly worked in Europe. An entire ocean separated me and my eager holes from his magic penis, and I never figured I would ever get a chance to meet him in the flesh, much less have the privilege of shooting with him. I would just have to be content to perv admiringly at his work, watching a true master of the flesh at play.

The world works in mysterious ways, and after a chance encounter with John Stagliano at AVN I found myself booked on one of his movies - a movie that also happened to have Rocco in it. I had long admired John's work, as he approached porn from a completely different angle. Like me, he viewed porn as a form of extreme performance art. The art was just as valid as any other form or art, it just had more naked people sticking things into each others' holes. Plus orgasms. John had been good friends with Rocco for many years and convinced him to make the long journey to the US to reprise his role as as Vlad the villainous vampire in his movie "Voracious 2." I was beyond thrilled. I was finally going to get to meet the legend! 

When John emailed me my copy of the script, I immediately tore through it to see what I had in store for me. I was crushed to find out that I didn’t have a single scene with Rocco, but I wasn’t about to let a little thing like that stop me. My secret plan was to throw myself on Rocco's dick whenever I got into his vicinity and just hope Stagliano didn’t yell “Cut!”. It seemed like a rock solid plan to me.

The day before I was due to start shooting Voracious I received a frantic phone call. Rocco was not doing well. At all. He had been diagnosed with a gallstone the week before he flew to America, and now was in extreme pain and needed to be taken to the hospital. As in immediately. Was I free to drive him? I hurriedly agreed and hauled ass to the hotel he was staying at, panicking all the while. Rocco was one of the central characters and was irreplaceable. What if he needed emergency gallstone surgery? It would spell disaster for the whole movie.

Rocco was waiting for me outside when I pulled up, discomfort across his face and sporting full movie wardrobe, as he was supposed to be on set before the pain got too bad for him to ignore any longer. He swooped up to my car in head-to-toe black, leather trench coat flaring in the breeze, laying kisses all over me European style and murmuring in his thick accent. He was extremely charming for being in such pain. I tried to keep my cool and not look at his dick.

The hospital visit was surreal. Rocco clocks in at a lean 6’3, and his black-clad Italian vampire presence could not easily be missed. Naturally the attending doctor recognized him on the spot and kept trying to subtly ask how long he was going to be in town for “work”. 

“Yes, I am a friend of your... intimacy,” Rocco grinned at the doctor with a knowing wink, a phrase I later found out was his go-to line for whenever someone recognized him. While holding up his long, leather trench coat off the hospital floor in my arms a brick of cash that looked to be around $5,000 fell out of a side pocket and slammed onto the floor, almost breaking my toes. The doctor's assistant's eyes bulged as she noticed and she stammered, “That is the most money I have ever seen in my entire life!” Evidently Rocco was not a big believer in the power of hotel safes and preferred to keep his valuables on his person, which made total sense. Nobody was going to bother someone like him. I tried to pick up the brick as calmly as possible and shoved it back into the nearest coat pocket.

While I like to think that I tend to lead a fairly interesting life, it isn’t every day I lounge about in hospitals with famous Italian porn stars dressed as vampires while bricks of cash rain out of their trench coats. After a few hours of blood and urine tests, the doctors finally determined that it was overly strenuous yoga resulting in muscle strain combined with excessive aspirin that had led to Rocco’s crippling pain, not out of control gallstones. Rocco obviously didn't hold back when it came to yoga. Or sex, for that matter. No need for emergency surgery, he was cleared to work.

Evidently my burning desire to pounce on Rocco was obvious enough that Stagliano took pity on me and wrote me into a preexisting threesome scene. That or he owed me for the hospital visit. It didn't matter, I would take it. With enthusiasm. I now got to play the Mother Superior nun that stumbles across Rocco having his way with Roxy Raye and Ashley Fires and gets sucked into the sex vortex. 

The day of my scene I crouched down on the sidelines waiting my turn to join the festivities and marveling at Rocco in action. Rocco and Ashley Fires particularly clicked, and he was really going to town on her. Ashley is a stunner-blonde, amazing figure, perky in all the right places, just pure hotness. Hot enough she didn’t *HAVE* to do hardcore, she could have just coasted by on her looks and never bothered to challenge herself. But that isn't how she's wired.

Today she was challenging herself with abandon. Rocco was slapping and choking her, ripping rough kisses and slamming his dick into her ass up to the hilt without mercy. I was breathless watching it unfold. The rougher he was, the more she completely gave herself up to him. They were locked into an animistic dance. “Damn,” I thought to myself, “This Ashley girl is a filthy wanton whore. I had NO idea!” My respect for her was growing by the minute, roughly in proportion to Rocco’s giant dick.

Me, Rocco and Ashley

When it was my turn to enter the scene, Rocco was supposed to notice me and call me over as he was getting his dick sucked. When John yelled “Action!” Rocco locked eyes with me and summoned me over with his finger while Ashley swooned at his feet in her shredded nun's outfit. I came over and grabbed Ashley’s head, forcing it deeper down on to Rocco’s dick. She sputtered and gagged. Rocco, locked into his intense pace, started slapping me and forcing his long fingers deeply down my throat hole. Soon I was sputtering and gagging as much as Ashley was.

Looking deeply into my eyes Rocco murmured in his commanding voice, "I want you to vomit all over her face," all the while forcing his fingers deeper down my throat. Vomit? Say what now? I wasn't expecting that, but what Rocco wants Rocco gets. Who am I to say no? It wasn’t hard, his fingers were wedged so far down my throat the vomit came up easily. I leaned over and heaved small bits of bagel and apple juice all over Ashley’s upturned face.

“Cut cut cut!! We have vomit!! We need a towel!” All action stopped abruptly. Ashley looked up at me, her false eyelashes blinking thickly, as chunks of my puke were caught in them. Thin rivers of bile traced down her cheeks, cutting tracks into her makeup. The entire crew looked shocked and horrified. What was the problem here? Rocco had told me to puke on her, why did everyone look so taken aback? A quick conference cleared up the confusion. Rocco’s English isn’t the best, and while he had said vomit, what he had actually meant was SPIT all over her face. He just got the words confused. Well now. There is a significant difference between vomiting on someone’s face and spitting on it. 

To Ashley’s immense credit, she wasn’t even phased. Most people would not handle being accidentally puked on with a quarter of the style and grace of Ashley did. She looked up grinning and whispered “It is burning my eyes” before yanking me down into a deep passionate kiss, shoving her tongue deeply into my mouth. I could taste the remnants of my apple juice in her mouth. “I totally just ate your puke you know,” she giggled, looking amused. It was then that I fell just a little in love with her. She was one of a kind. An unapologetic pervert with the face of an angel.

Ashley was wiped down and the scene continued. Rocco was sweating and straining, giving it his all. Sweat was dripping off him like rainfall and coating us. I was trying to duck and dodge the drops, but it was a lost cause. I might as well have been standing in a hot, salty shower. Far from minding it, Ashley had me beat. Gazing up at Rocco's shining face she cooed around a mouthful of dick, "I LOVE your sweat! I want to fill up a bathtub and bath it in! Give me more!" I almost puked again at the mental concept of sloshing around in a bathtub full of hot Rocco sweat. Ashley had me thoroughly beat in terms of perversion. And bless her for it.

And then Rocco suddenly hauled me up and slammed me against a wall. It was everything I had hoped for and more. He sticks his massive manmeat in and the second he does, your brain shuts off completely. The arched back, carefully tossed hair and slightly parted lips that is the mainstay of porn? You don’t do that with Rocco. There is no “acting sexy”. You just try not to die. I desperately hung onto the wall with what little muscle control I had left while Rocco did his best to kill me with his dick. Gurgled sounds bubbled out of me. I could not tell where the camera was located, I could not act or pose. I was simply trying to survive. My brain was goo. He only operates at one speed - destroy. It was epic. I could not remember my own name, I could hardly even stand up.

Alas, all too soon, the scene was over and I came back to earth. I was simultaneously in mourning that it was over so quickly and uncertain I could have survived much more of the Rocco experience... I lie, I lie. I could have survived more. I want more. I NEED more. That magic man is addictive as hell. I will forever be in Stagliano’s debt for having the kindness to write me into that scene, it was one for my mental scrapbook I will call up again and again, knowing that I have had the privilege to experience some fairly incredible things in my life.

Rain DeGrey is a veteran performer with over eight years in the industry who is blessed with both an extremely open mind and a very twisted sense of humor. When she is not being a Professional Naked Person she keeps herself busy as a writer, educator, and performer. For more Rain DeGrey, go to raindegrey.com, raindegrey.net and @raindegrey on twitter.