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A Portrait of Megan Rain


Megan Rain is an All-American hero as far as porn starlets go. From her Colgate smile to her doelike legs, her summer tan breaking into the faintest freckling across the cheeks, the deep brunette of her hair bouncing off of fine-boned shoulders, the blue of her eyes to the softness of her voice when she zeroes in on her target and says every mans favorite word—yes—Megan Rain has that certain delicate mixing of qualities that just makes one remember. She has It.

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            With a resemblance that is part Megan Fox, part Wonder Woman, Megan Rain entered the adult industry at the tail end of 2014 and quickly became one of the top-booked performers of the year. Looking at her leaves one with little doubt as to why. Interacting with her is an equally pleasant experience though. On the first of many movies that we would shoot her in, Megan pulled an unassuming silver car into the driveway and smeared shimmery lip gloss across her lips before stepping out in sneakers and cut off shorts. From her rearview mirror hung two pink fuzzy dice. She made easy conversation in the make up chair and then dug through her suitcase as we looked for the outfit we would dress her in. All of her clothes were neatly folded, assorted by color, and thick with the scent of a girlish perfume. She feels like a fresh shower wherever she goes.

            And then the camera rolled and she somehow whipped out a sort of innocent sex that came across as absolutely filthy.

            The next time we shot her, she showed up in that same silver car with fuzzy dice hanging in the window, and skipped inside the house in her same pair of sneakers. We turned her around into a style that was old Hollywood glamour—a heavy fur coat, red lips, a thick black line across the lash—and she went from the girl you might have wanted as your high school sweetheart to a woman as seductive and mysterious as any icon you may have fantasized about across the decades. Her cheekbones are high, her lashes thick, her pout packs the punch of a fist.

We called action and her male costar dropped the heavy jacket off her shoulders, asking her, “What do you want to be?”

In a breathy whisper that was half woman, half girl, she responded, “Yours.”

Sometime later I ran across her at a convention in Chicago. She wore those casual sneakers again, another pair of denim shorts, an easy halter top and lip gloss. She rode piggy back on a man who carried her through the halls, the two of them laughing wildly as they raced towards some more private place. There was no difference between the girl there, in real life, and the one that arrived on the set of each subsequent shoot.

One of the latest shoots was for Manuel’s popular series—Raw. It is a film shot by Manuel, for Manuel, with Manuel, the only other players being his female partner in the scene and the hotel room that he hopes will create the most intimate setting that one can achieve between two performers and a camera. That is what is beautiful about Megan. It is not just her look, not her wonderfully matched personality, but the realness that she brings with her wherever she goes. She is honest on camera, and that flavor of her sexuality shines through.


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