Tera Patrick - Sinner Takes All

The next morning, the blond brother came down to breakfast all bright and cheery saying, “What a fabulous morning it is!”

“Oh yes. I slept great,” I said with a wink.

The brunette brother just grunted.

Oh well, you can’t please everyone. But I certainly pleased myself.

MY TIPS FOR A HAPPY THREESOME:

Here are a few tips on how to make sure a threesome goes your way and everyone is happy.

TIP 1: The girl is always in charge. We’re the ones more likely to get jealous or feel uneasy, so the girl should be the one who lays out how it’s going to go down.

TIP 2: Definitely set up some ground rules. Spell out what is off limits, if anything, and what is fair game ahead of time so there are no surprises.

TIP 3: Never spend too much time with one sexual partner over the other. That’s how fights break out. Give equal attention to each person in the room.

TIP 4: Don’t do a threesome with a friend or close business associate. Pick a partner who is somebody you’re never going to see again. If this person is already in your life and is going to pop up again and again, it can get uncomfortable for you.

In late 2000, I started dating singer/rapper Erik Schrody, better known as Everlast, the former singer of the hip-hop group House of Pain, which had a big hit in the early ’90s with a song called “Jump Around.” As a solo artist, he was pretty successful too, having hit number 1 with his song “What It’s Like” in 1998, just a few years before I met him on the set of his music video for “I Can’t Move” from his second solo album.

My agent called me one day with an opportunity to audition for his music video, and I knew a little bit about Everlast, who I called by his real name, Erik. But to me, it was just another job and just another good opportunity to do my thing, make some money, and have a bit of fun. Meeting him was such a cliched Hollywood moment. Here I am the “hot girl in the video,” and the star asked me to come to his trailer. So in my sheer black dress, with no panties on, I went waltzing into his trailer and was greeted with a big cloud of marijuana smoke and Erik standing there with three of his homeys, whom he immediately dismissed. I’m thinking, “Oh, no, is he going to pounce on me?”

“Hey, how’s it going?” asked Erik while rolling a joint.

I was instantly attracted to him. The shaved head, tattoos, and tough-guy manner… I dug it.

“Do you want to smoke?”

“No, that’s OK.” I didn’t smoke much during this time of my life.

“Well, uh, see you on set,” he said. He was kind of cold, but it was intriguing for me. A challenge, I thought.

At the end of the shoot, he asked me for my number, which made me as giddy as a schoolgirl. I hadn’t been dating much in the past few years because I just wasn’t into having a boyfriend. I was into fucking, and something in Erik made me excited for a new adventure.

Our first date was a movie date at his house. Ladies, don’t ever let a guy take you on a date to his house: (a) It’s cheap, (b) It shows disrespect (What? He didn’t want to be seen with me in public?), (c) It usually means all he wants from you is sex, and (d) It’s just plain lame. We deserve dinners and romance, don’t we? I should’ve known how lame Erik would end up being by that very first date. But I was young and naive and just happy to have met a guy who could potentially be a boyfriend, which is something that had been lacking in my life.

I went to his house in Reseda, California, for that date, and it was really uncomfortable at first. We sat on opposite sides of his couch as we watched a Lakers game, which had me bored out of my mind. We both seemed really nervous. After a few awkward moments, he took a thick, fuzzy fur blanket and wrapped me in it and then wrapped himself in it. I was cold and shivering, partly because it was winter and pretty chilly in his house and partly because I was a little nervous. Either way, he warmed me up fast. And unbeknownst to me at the time, we started a pattern that would be the basis of our relationship: I come to his house. We sit on his couch. We watch TV. We have sex. I go home, utterly unsatisfied.

For two years, I’d follow that pattern. The sex was never mind-blowing. You can tell if sex is going to be good by how much effort a guy puts into you when you’re not under the sheets. Erik put zero effort into dating me, taking me out, or making me feel special or beautiful, and that selfishness extended into the bedroom. He was very selfish, but I just went along because it was nice to have someone new around. I had been really lonely, and it was a time when I was feeling really low.

Along the way during those two years, he’d say things to me like, “You know, you’re lucky to be with me. Who’s going to want to date a porn chick?” Well, he was dating a porn chick, so what the fuck? He was clearly torn over dating me. On the one hand, he’s saying no one should date a porn chick. On the other hand, he’s asking me to autograph my Penthouse cover. What was that? And the worst part about it was that he asked me to sign the Penthouse right after we had sex. Two words: tacky and creepy. He was attracted to what I did for a living but repelled by it at the same time. And it felt like he punished me for being who I was.

I just remember thinking, “Well, it’s bad enough that he doesn’t love me for me. But it’s worse that he seems to actually hate me for me.” I wasn’t really sure what to do with that, so I just let it slide for a while. But deep down, I felt hurt, humiliated, and depressed that the guy I had been with for about two years was treating me so badly, and I was letting him. It was also sad that he lived with his mother, but his mother never spoke to me and we never interacted. Erik obviously kept it that way on purpose.

During this time I had very low self-esteem and was drinking heavily, and Erik’s comments just dragged me down further. A low point in the relationship came on my birthday. In general, 2002 was a banner year for me. I landed both Playboy and Penthouse . I was one of the hosts of Playboy TV’s Night Calls 411 Live and I was enjoying the press and promotion of the two simultaneous covers. Everyone was celebrating me around me, but deep down I was very depressed and felt so alone. Being with Erik made me even lonelier than being by myself because he wasn’t there for me, supporting me, loving me, or respecting me.

July 25, 2002, was my twenty-sixth birthday. I called up Erik and said, “Hey, it’s my birthday! What are we doing?”

And he said, “I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’m going out with the boys.”

“You’re not taking me out?” I asked.

“Why would I fucking take you out? You can do whatever the fuck you want to do,” Erik said.

I shouldn’t have been surprised at his reaction, but I was, and I cried and cried and cried.

I called my best friend, Alexis Winston, who was a Penthouse Pet and dating a millionaire named Larry, and told her how sad and depressed I was and she came up with a plan. “Forget about Erik. I’m going to take you on Larry’s private jet and we’re going to get away.” So I packed my bag, got dolled up, and flew up to central California with Alexis and her man, who had a big birthday cake waiting for me. I was so jealous of her relationship. When I got to Larry’s mansion all I could think was, “Wow. He’s going to marry her and she gets to live in this thirty-room house with the man of her dreams and here I am dating shitty, selfish asshole Erik. What am I doing wrong?”

Erik did such a number on my self-esteem that I started to cry myself to sleep at night thinking, “What man is ever going to marry a porn star? Maybe Erik’s right. Who is going to want to bring me home to their parents?” Seeing Alexis so happy with her man and all of these girls in the industry around me dating guys who lavished love and gifts on them made me really think about what I wanted in life. I wanted to marry a good man. And if porn was going to get in the way of that, I though, then maybe I shouldn’t do porn anymore.