Following the death of Steve ‘Titpig’ Hurley, Treasure Island Media founder Paul Morris pays tribute to the porn pioneer.
Men who love – and live for – sex are explorers of the best and bravest kind. Many of the men who have taken the leap to make sex their profession are pioneers and, occasionally, heroes.
Making anything you love your profession, your job, changes it completely. Managing to be a full-time porn model or escort while maintaining your love of sex marks you as an exceptional man.
Most endeavors that involve courage and exploration are honored by their culture. Each country, for instance, all but worships its athletes. Most cultures misguidedly worship competition. They also love their daredevils – mountain climbers, race drivers, free divers, soldiers; we admire our risk takers. And countries celebrate their business leaders – we respect the greediest among us.
But the cultural relationship to gay porn is both exceptional and exceptionally fraught. It is porn, the culture says, and therefore it’s culturally negligible and something we’re either embarrassed by or even downright ashamed of. When’s the last time you heard a politician or celebrity celebrate the pornography that represents the style of their nation? Never.
And yet there’s the undeniable fact that porn has always been perhaps the single most important element in the dialectical development of the gay identity and gay sociosexual practices and traditions. Throughout our lives, we look to the practitioners of porn to see for ourselves what men are attracted to, what they do sexually, what is extreme and what is sanctioned, and so on.
I loved Titpig and I admired him enormously. He and his wonderful life should be remembered and celebrated by all of us who aren’t quite as daring, quite as adventurous or brave as he was.
I mentioned earlier there are professionals of sex who I would call heroes. What do I mean by that? Within the broad range of porn performers and sexual explorers, there are those few men who love an uncelebrated and even obscure variant of male sex. These people see not only sex as it is, but also as it can — and perhaps should — be.
They bravely explore an unpopular and even shunned practice and, by demonstrating the pleasure, meaning and man-to-man connections that such a practice makes possible, gift the entirety of gay culture with a new arena for exploration.
Titpig was such an explorer.
You know you’re dealing with an original and a pioneer when you’re sorely tempted to ask them how their friends and their doctor react to what they do.
The first time I met Titpig, I didn’t know what he looked like. I was picking him up at San Francisco Airport and was a little worried that I’d miss him.
But there was no mistaking who he was, in part because straight folks all around him were frowning and turning away. One woman was literally shielding her little girl’s face so she couldn’t see him.
He was wearing a very skimpy tank-top, his enormous nipples jutting out proudly for the world to see. He was grinning and gave me a big warm loving hug.
He wasn’t noticing the disapproval of the straight folks all around us: he was just a big, warm, generous, happy man. Always a joy to be around, he was one of those rare men who earnestly wanted the best for everyone.
After you got over the initial sensory shock of his nipples, what impressed was his genialness, his warmth, the tone he was able to bring to any group that things were fine and would definitely work out okay. He was a pure pleasure to be around.
He taught me an enormous amount about nipple play and the profound pleasure to be had from sustained “work” on what nature gave you. There were, of course, others who were also into nipple play, but of those that I met, none came close to Titpig’s openness and generosity.
I’ll always be grateful to him for teaching me the basics of tit play and giving me what were basically lessons on how to take yourself from dead flesh nipples to points of such pleasure that they could take a man to a sustained hour-long orgasm that dwarfed anything you’ve experienced with your dick.
And despite the fact that many, many men came to do anything in their power to increase the size and sensitivity of their nipples in order to make them more like his, Titpig always insisted that he never used clamps or pumps or anything other than an almost constant tugging and twisting with his hands. Whenever he watched television, his hands were busy giving himself pleasure.
Titpig was the only guy I ever acted as a “fluffer” for. As you probably know, the idea of the porn fluffer—a guy who’s kept around to get the models hard—is entirely apocryphal. There is no such animal and never has been.
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Nevertheless, there are moments when a bit of help can come in handy. I was shooting a scene with Titpig for Brush Creek Media (in the very early days of TIM) and the big fellow was having trouble getting focused.
He came over and asked me if I could help him out a bit, knowing that by now I was a well-practiced nipple-play enthusiast. I took his mammoth fleshy nipple-buds between my fingers and within about thirty seconds, he was rock hard, focused and ready to go. He rewarded me with a big ol’ sloppy kiss — and he was a great kisser, incidentally.
I went on to shoot a couple of videos that were based on Titpig. In fact they were called Two Nights with Titpig. In between shoots, he was naked and we were chatting about how dick pleasure stood up to nipple pleasure. I asked him point blank which he would choose if he had to, his dick or his nipples. There was no hesitation at all: “I’d keep my nipples man, they’re so much better!”
I picked up my primitive camera and asked him if he could show me how a nipple orgasm looked. Always obliging, he did so. Here’s a fragment of the video:
After having been in close touch for nearly a decade, I lost touch with Titpig. Occasionally I’d hear from or about him. I know he moved to Palm Springs and that he remained a sexual explorer. I understand he fell in love at least once, a sure sign of a strong engagement with life. And then last week, I learned he’d died.
I did a cursory web search for information and confirmation. And there they were, the absurdly insulting statements by web curs who knew nothing about the man other than he’d been in porn and that he loved nipple play:
“Did his parents call him Titpig?”
“Another dead pornie. Pass the jelly.”
“Pron [sic] stars have shorter lives than alcoholic writers.”
“The porn business doesn’t exactly exude emotional and physical stability.”
“Eraser nipples are repugnant.”
“He truly was the peoples’ princess tinymeat”
“He should have left porn years earlier when he was still physically fit.”
“He was an RN [true] and decided the better option was to do gross fetish porn?”
I was reminded of the last time I saw Scott O’Hara. He’d written and produced a musical, the theme of which was ex-lovers. He’d written the play, the songs, cast and directed the entire production. When it was finally performed for a couple of weekends he was in the late stages of AIDS and clearly had very little time left.
The night that I went, the audience was all gay men. Many of them clearly took pleasure in laughing at moments that were inadvertently funny and insulting the entire production in stage whispers. O’Hara was in the audience, the theater was small, and he could obviously hear everything that was said. At the intermission, two-thirds of the gay audience walked out.
No, it wasn’t Shakespeare. But if you’ve ever tried to write or produce anything at all, you know that the amount of dedication and work required is truly Herculean. And it takes enormous courage to put anything you’ve made in front of the public. To have achieved all this while terribly ill was nothing short of astonishing. I felt shame for the people who insulted the work and left.
Scott O’Hara, much like Titpig, was to my way of thinking a heroic figure. Both men devoted their lives to the jubilant exploration of the uncharted and vast world of male Eros. That the population of gay men continues to have a large and vocal segment that exudes loathing and bitterness toward this work and these men is truly discouraging.
These are the sorts of men who vote for figures like Trump because, well, why not? To them life is a shitty joke and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t spread the misery around as thickly as possible.
I loved Titpig and I admired him enormously. He and his wonderful life should be remembered and celebrated by all of us who aren’t quite as daring, quite as adventurous or brave as he was. Believe it not, our sex is always — always — about discovering how we love. And Steve “Titpig” Hurley was one of the most loving men I’ve ever known. Our world is a lesser place without the man.
Steve was an inspiration. His sprit and porn will live on.
Paul Morris, My name is Randy Gaston, aka Titpup. Yes I was his partner and husband for the last 22 years. I wanted to Thank You for a wonderful tribute to Steve. He spoke of you often and I can not believe that we have never met. It has helped me these past weeks to listen to people tell me how he impacted their lives or just stories, like yours, of time spent with him. Way back in the day, when we were “nesting” I saw one of his movies on VHS, picked it up and showed it to him and didn’t say a word. He stated, “Yeah, you grew up on a farm, but that is not what the movie is about” Yes it was Paul Morris’ Animals.
He never liked and hardly ever did watch his own movies. I on the other hand would put one on when he’d be out traveling for movies or appearances, just to hear his voice.
And to every man that has ever wondered what sex would really be like with Steve (Titpig) Hurley, just watch any of his movies. Because he always found the sexy within the men he had scenes with and once the sex started, that was all him.
I miss him so much. but I know I’m not the only one.
We had a memorial service on May 12th for the man I loved and married. My friends have started a go fund me page to raise funds to put a star on the walk in Palm Springs to honor both the man and the star he was. I am personally trying to organize a larger, relaxed, celebration of life for Steve (Titpig) Huley. It will scheduled out a ways for those that may want to travel into the Palm Springs area to attend.
Again, Paul, Thank you again for the tribute and for being Paul’s frend.
Randy L Gaston
I owe so much to this great guy, he helped me making peace with my body, my desires and my fantasies..he majorly helped to set me free with the erotic side of me..rest in peace dear..I Turley feel sad to hear such news..rest in peace papi
Paul, just Thank you.
What happened to the 2 Titpig vidoes that were on the TIM site years ago? They disappeared at some point. I regret not buying them.
Hi there Jeff, there are two Titpig videos still available in our store, you can find them here and here.
Steve was and is a Warrior Champion. PULL & TWIST was his motto. Had the pleasure to meet him at IML 2003….TIM was there with “Riding Billy Wild” and meeting him also at the Toolshed in Palm Springs. He was a fucking gentleman PIG! What we should all aspire to. Grateful to have crossed paths, his spirit will live on. WOOF!, Matt G
I owe my sexual experiences to the man the myth and my legend Steve “Titpig” Hurley. From the first time I seen him perform, I knew then and understood what my sexual purpose was and always strive to delve in my sexual debauchery nipples and dick first to adventure of living my live to its fullest. As he loved his life on film. Not a day went by as I thought about how Titpig would jump right into a bold sexual situation to find pleasure enjoyable for both his partners and himself. No porn star could truly match the voracious man in my mind than he. He is and always will be an icon. Rest in Peace Steve!
I acted in a gay porn video with him at Inn Leather in Ft Lauderdale.
I got to fluff him and he urged me to suck his tits.
We played there. I sat down on his cock and played his his tits while he smoked his cigar.
Talked nasty to me. I spurted on his stomach, and he spurted into my ass and I kissed him while I twisted his tits.
I am very sorry to hear that Steve Hurley has died. I have enjoyed his films for many years. I didn’t realize there were fucked up comments about him online. Most likely from jealous cunts who could only dream of having lived a life as well as Titpig did.
You mentioned Scott O’ Hara. I met him around 1994 at a bath house in San Diego. Had really good sex. I told him after we were done that I had been jerking off to him since I was fourteen years old. I first saw him in Advocate MEN magazine.
Later I read a memorial tribute to Scott online and the person who wrote it said that he had mentioned that a man told him they had been masturbating to his porn since they were fourteen years old. That was me. I regret not having tried to become friends with benefits with Scott because I would have loved exploring the inside and outside of his body even more.
I saw Steve Hurley a few times in Palm Springs. Once at Vista Grande/Mirage and he wanted me to join him. I had just had a night of marathon sex and had already cum three times. I regret not having sex with him but I was spent.
I too am wired at the nips.
This was a very good and thoughtful tribute you have posted for Steve.