HUSTLER Magazine

This website contains sexually explicit material, and is for adult viewing only. If you are under the age of 18, pease exit now by clicking the "EXIT" button below. By clicking the "ENTER" button, you agree that you are at least 18 years of age, you are of legal age in your area to view sexually explicit materail, you will not expose the contents of this web site to minors, you are wholly liable for any legal ramifications that may arise from your viewing or downloading materail from this website, and you will subject yourself to the jurisdiction of the State of California should any dispute arise between yoursef and the operator of this website.

Exit Shop Magazines
2257 Compliant
the erotic review


Jayme Langford - A Day in the Life


Jayme has a busy day ahead: College quizzes, rock band rehearsals and a girl/girl double-dildo anal scene don’t get done by themselves. The latter will have to wait until the director coughs up $1,400, so first things first—a San Fernando Valley car dealer’s repair shop.

We walk to Jayme’s black Mercedes, with a busted sunroof and smashed-in grille. The interior could double as her closet. Riding shotgun are a pile of dietary supplements, a suitcase filled with brassieres and lingerie, a laptop with a Sponge Bob sticker and schoolbooks. So the photographer and I cram into the backseat. She drives—sorta fast.

Eschewing morning coffee, the Red Bull woman sips the power drink as she zips through traffic, musing calmly about the morons who complicate her life. Number one on her shit parade is the University of Judaism. “I have nothing to do with the college except for when I’m in class,” Jayme says. “I live with a guy who runs a big adult Web site and his girlfriend. I had them tell the school they’re my aunt and uncle so I could get permission to live off-campus.” Thinking it was a “neat idea,” Jayme converted to Judaism.

The dealership is just up ahead. There’s not a helluva lot of time before her class starts. Jayme hasn’t studied for her physics quiz, so she needs to find a sympathetic classmate for some last-minute cramming. At the dealership she’s informed that her alternator and front tires need to be replaced.

Waiting for the paperwork, Jayme puts on her wraparound shades, wondering how she’s going to accomplish everything. “Every day I’m running around trying to get things done,” she explains with surprising calmness, shoving her clothes into a loaner. “I haven’t gone to a gym in three months.” As she starts the car, the manager tells her he’s waived the costs of her repairs. I wish I had that sort of charm.

Jayme believes it’s something she was born with: “I get out of all my traffic tickets, too. I’m just good at getting whatever I need. My dad, he’s really spiritual, always thinking good thoughts for me. I think that helps a lot. I always carry around this gigantic crystal that he gave me.” From her purse Jayme pulls out a ten-inch quartz crystal big enough to whack Shirley MacLaine into unconsciousness.

The staid-sounding University of Judaism is 20 minutes away in secluded, bucolic Bel-Air. Despite its panoramic view of Los Angeles, Jayme doesn’t like this school much, hoping to transfer to USC or UCLA. Apparently the dissatisfaction became mutual once UJ administrators discovered her ties to the adult industry. Her MySpace profile and exposure on HUSTLER Casino billboards all over the city let that secret out a long time ago.

“The kids on campus were coming to party at my house and, like, Ron Jeremy and all these porn girls are there, so my background was kind of obvious,” she says with a laugh. The university pulled her financial aid after learning she’d been acting in adult films.

Going through the canyon to Bel-Air, she takes the curves hard and fast. “Everything’s always worked out for me—every risk I’ve ever taken, and I’ve taken a lot of big risks, like moving out here from Rhode Island,” Jayme remarks. “I dropped out of the University of Maine in the middle of a semester to relocate. I didn’t have any money, and now I know all sorts of people.”

We arrive 15 minutes early. As we reach her classroom building, Jayme stops. The coed’s course materials are in her Mercedes. We need to haul ass back to the Valley. We jump in the loaner and speed away. She soon notes a pain in her jaw, courtesy of transparent braces: “They suck. I have a constant headache. But I already paid for the whole thing. Can’t back out now.”

Somehow she handles all of these stresses—morning traffic, a missed class, aches and pains—with grace rather than irritability. Even her complaints sound engaging. Jayme will tell you with no bitterness about losing the house in which she grew up when her father, who ran an online casino, saw his profession made illegal. She has reason enough to be angry with humanity, but she’s not. She’d rather see people live well. She says it’s one of the reasons she’s studying for a career in cosmetic surgery.

It takes a while to find the dealership again; without GPS, Jayme ends up guessing a lot on the road. But once there, she grabs her books, and we head back to Bel-Air, music by Clutch blasting out of the car’s speakers. On the way, her dad calls, then her agency calls again, prompting another rant from Jayme about porn and its discontents. Arriving at school, she finds a parking space in the near-full lot, then races to class.

An hour-and-a-half later, Jayme and her classmates pile out of the building. One student yells, “She’s a cheater!” Jayme laughs it off, walking toward the photographer and me. “I got an A-minus!” she exclaims. Not bad, considering she didn’t study a lick. With that out of the way, she wants out of here ASAP.

We make our way to what she considers her temporary home, at least until she finds a new place. En route she gets another call on the cell. A new-girl porn video is being shot at the house. Jayme rolls her eyes. She worries about strangers. A string of thefts necessitated her purchase of a large safe for her personal shit.

Luckily, Jayme has gal pals in the industry to watch out for her too. She singles out Sabrina Rose, Heather Carolin and Jana Jordan. Her sapphic talents led to AVN Award nominations for her girl/girl scene with Nicole Aston in Hot Showers #16, as well as Best New Starlet.

Yet she’s criticized for refusing to work outside her girl/girl niche. Turning such questions back on her critics, she bellows, “Okay, well, I want YOU to do double-anal on camera. Why don’t YOU do it?” She laughs, admitting, “I’m doing as little as possible to get by, I guess.

We pull into the driveway and enter the house quietly. The video shoot is just finishing up. Once that’s out of the way, Jayme checks her Web site, then shows us some guitars. She’s formed a girl group, Pajamaband, with roomie Dee and girlfriend Alexandra Ivy. The band, which has jammed several times, plans to record its first album by the end of the year. “It will just be rock,” Jayme says. “If we’re gonna put in all the effort, we wanna do something that sells.”

This makes three things Jayme Langford wants to be: rock star, cosmetic surgeon and porn starlet. With so much going on, it’s amazing she finishes anything. Such is the curse of being young, beautiful and sex-positive in Porn Valley. “If I were fat, ugly and really religious,” she reasons, “I could just stay home all the time and study.”

The day’s done. Jayme needs to run somewhere else on personal business. She won’t say more, except that it has nothing to do with rhinoplasties or face-lifts. One of her roomies inquires whether she plans to augment some willing tits while she’s out.

Jayme only smiles. With her crystal in tow, she’s out the door, taking with her all the luck in the world.

See Jayme in these videos, only by joining today!

M. Allen Nathan

Photo Credit: Justin Hampton

Click to browse new and back issues of HUSTLER Magazine.

Click to view subscription offers for HUSTLER Magazine.