Page 76 - AVN August 2026

A corner of the large living room with a pool table has been staged to look like the
home-office area where Ritchie and Wild strategize. A map on the wall has pushpins
holding up victims’ pictures connected with red string. The pool table is littered with
late-night food detritus: pizza boxes, coffee cups, takeout wrappers, a box of gummy
candy spilled onto a paper plate.
“My character is an independent woman detective. She has retired from the force and
is now a college professor,” Ritchie tells me as the techs finish draping the windows
and lighting the set for a night look. “She doesn’t let anything stand in her way, she
really goes for what she wants. It’s really fun to play such a strong female character,
I haven’t done a lot of those. It’s a very, very dialogue-heavy script, and a lot of it is
monologue. That was the biggest challenge.”
After the consent interview, Vegas sets out parameters for the sex scene—“No fucking
on the pool table, go to the leather couch”—and the sequence starts with Ritchie and
Wild peering at the map, piecing things together. “They’re crossing jurisdictions,” Wild
says. “They’re not just getting lucky, they’re mocking us.” Vegas suggests business:
“Put your arm on him on, ‘I’m so tired.’ Initiate contact.” When Ritchie leans on Wild,
the femme fatale tattoo on her arm is visible. Behind the monitors, Siouxsie Q smiles
benignly. Wild leans into Ritchie for the kiss—“Cut! Back to one.”
“Cock-blocked!” Wild snaps.
Vegas and Siouxsie Q confer with the actors, adjusting pacing, discussing motivations.
“Slow it down by half a beat. You’re moving too fast. It’s your partner. This is unethical.”
The dialogue scene works better when they slow it down and the under-the-surface
sexual tension builds. When they finally kiss, she puts her hand on his waist, then jumps
up and wraps her legs around his hips. “Hold for a second.” The cameras reposition,
the boom mic is secured. “Let’s let these two fuck! And Zac, lose the gum. It worked
in the dialogue, but...”
They resume their positions. On “Action!” she climbs back on him, humping his torso.
He pulls up her shirt, she squeals. He opens her pants, throws them off, mouth-dives
on her pussy as she raises her hips, moaning. She jumps off the pool table, kneels,
opens his pants, starts to suck. Slowly deep throats him, pulls off with a groan. I think
it was her. Vegas steps up on the pool table, getting ready to shoot downward into
the blowjob. “Do you need a pillow [under your knees]?” “I’m okay.”
“Get some story in the dirty talk,” Siouxsie Q says before she heads back to the
monitors. “Let that tension be palpable. Have fun, you guys, you earned it. Love you
all, see you on the other side.
“Don’t do anything on the pool table.”
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