SELENA ROSE LOVES HER DAD.
Even though he was a cocaine trafficker. Even though she never laid eyes on him after he was arrested and sent to prison when she was six years old. From that time on, she only spoke to a disembodied voice by phone every Sunday for eight years until that one terrible day the phone didn’t ring. Her father was dead. Cancer. He had passed away in the penitentiary hospital a few days earlier. He never even told his daughter he was sick.
“My dad was a good man who loved me,” Selena says at the start of our day together. “He made mistakes because he had a hard life. Prison messed him up.” Selena isn’t just referring to his incarceration for cocaine trafficking. Her father had previously been jailed for eight years in his native Cuba following La Revolución because he disagreed with some of the Communist views of dictator Fidel Castro.
“It was before I was born, and my father never talked about it,” Selena recalls. “All I know is that it was very difficult for him. As soon as he was released, he left Cuba and headed to Florida to start a new life.” Unfortunately, his “new life” had the same plotline as the movie Scarface: A Cuban criminal leaves his homeland to make his fortune trafficking cocaine in Miami.
“My mom and dad split when I was three,” Selena continues, “but my dad still hung around with me all the time. He would take me to movies, to the park. We’d just have fun. If he was leading the life of a criminal, I never knew it. He was always there for me.” Until Dad disappeared for a month.
Then a call came for little Selena. Crying and apologizing at the same time, her father told her that he had been arrested and that he wouldn’t be coming home for a long time. “I was devastated,” Selena says, “and embarrassed. I didn’t want to tell any of my friends. But he was still my father, and we loved each other. So I learned to make the best of things.”
Selena’s mom remarried, and her new stepdad—a decent-enough guy—tried to take over some fatherly responsibilities. Selena wasn’t at all receptive: “I would always say, ‘You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my father.’ I would confide in my dad on the phone in prison, tell him what was going on in my life. He would give me advice and draw beautiful pictures and send them to me. He was an artist. His pictures helped show me that he was still a good man.”
But when he died, in the words of Selena’s mother, the then-14-year-old’s “pussy was on fire.” Selena promptly got a more experienced 17-year-old male to dispense with her virginity, then spent her high school years focused on sexual experimentation.
“I liked to be crazy,” Selena recounts, giggling mischievously. “I made out with one member of my high school faculty and had sex with another. And I fucked lots of boys—and girls! I loved fucking so much, my mom thought there was something wrong with me. She took me to the church, to the doctor, but nothing made me stop. I loved the attention.”
There it is. You don’t have to be Sigmund Freud to figure out why Selena craved attention. As she freely admits to me, “I loved fucking, but to know that a lot of guys were looking at me, talking about me, was just as much fun. And it was the best when guys fought over me. I loved the drama.”
The horny, superhot teen banged her way through the 12th grade. After graduation, she found a job at Hooters, which only stoked her growing need to be an object of desire. When a porn producer saw some pictures of the busty Latina waitress on MySpace, he sent her an e-mail offering work as an on-camera performer. Selena jumped at the opportunity.
Three years later, Selena Rose couldn’t be happier with her career choice. “I love being a porn star,” she gloats. “I adore the idea of people thinking about me, fantasizing about me. When I was in high school, there were people who said I was a slut. My goal now is to be the biggest slut ever.”
Okay, so the young lady isn’t aspiring to win a Nobel Prize or an Olympic gold medal, but a goal’s a goal. At least Selena has been able to channel the anxiety of childhood abandonment into a career. And porn is not only fun and profitable, but it also allows Selena to continue exploring her extensive sexually related fantasies. Number one: hot cars.
That explains why I am accompanying Selena to the Petersen Automotive Museum in Los Angeles. “I like to have sex in different kinds of sports cars,” she confides. “Looking at the cars here makes me think of all the times I would drive fast with guys in Lamborghinis and Porsches, then pull over and have sex. Walking around the museum really gets my pussy wet.”
Now there’s a sentence you don’t hear every day, but I’m not all that surprised. Selena Rose exudes sex. Virtually every conversation, every move, is erotic. Selena doesn’t really walk; she glides like a runway model, prowling every room, swaying her voluptuous body as she licks her full lips, meeting the gaze of every guy who stares at her. Whether strangers or acquaintances, she knows they’re all thinking the exact same thing. The real fun for Selena is in the tease.
I ask how she first became infatuated with cars and sex, expecting a filthy story told with naughty enthusiasm. I am not disappointed.
“In high school, a boyfriend of mine was a street racer,” Selena explains in a breathy, Marilyn Monroe delivery. “It was really hot to see guys race. All these slick, shiny cars, gorgeous men and me. They all wanted to take me for a ride, and I always went for the guy with the best car. Riding a cock in a car is my favorite.”
“But what about older cars?” I wonder. Selena seems equally enthralled staring at classic Fords, Chevys and Packards as she does Porsches and Ferraris.
“I like to fantasize in different time periods,” she goes on to say. “Like if I were a flapper girl with a bootlegger. It’s easy for me. I live in a fantasy world most of the time anyway. Also, I’ve fucked guys who were classicauto collectors. I don’t always remember their faces, but staring at these old cars makes me remember the pleasure and the car.”
The longer we wander through the museum, the more turned on Selena claims she’s getting. It’s crazy. A ’94 Bugatti Veyron gets her wet; a cherry-red ’62 Cadillac convertible gets her wet; even the Batmobile does the trick. I’m afraid Selena is going to hurl herself across the hood of a vintage vehicle and have the first public orgasm in the Petersen Automotive Museum’s history.
When I suggest we leave, Selena says, “My pussy’s still too wet. Let’s go to a new-car showroom. I’m having so much fun, and I’m thinking of buying a new car anyway.”
Bullshit! Selena doesn’t want to buy a brand-new car. She wants to tease more guys. Fantasize. Prove to herself for the umpteenth time that she’s the hottest chick on the street, that she can cause a commotion, turn heads, stop everything just by walking into a room.
That’s exactly what Selena does. When the hottie sashays into a BMW dealership in the San Fernando Valley, you could hear a pin drop. All the male salesmen’s eyes are instantly on her, undressing her mentally, imagining what if…. It doesn’t matter who else is car shopping today. Prospective buyers are being ignored because Selena Rose wants to play.
Later, after Selena has tired of toying with the salesmen, I ask how long she feels she can keep up her relentlessly sexual lifestyle both on and offscreen.
“I know my looks won’t last forever,” Selena admits. “I’ll be with a lot of men as long as it’s fun for me, and I look great. Then I’ll settle down and figure out some kind of business. I don’t want to do MILF porn. In a few more years, I’ll try to find a nice guy and lead a quieter life.”
“What will happen if you find a great guy who drives a crappy car?” I ask.
“Then the relationship probably wouldn’t work,” Selena replies with a laugh. “I’d always leave a guy with a Nissan for a Lamborghini.” Gentlemen, if you’re interested, start saving.
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