Kim Chambers
Kim started stripping at eighteen, still fresh from California. She chased the pole around the country, entering contests wherever the prize money ran. One contest in Florida put her in front of Dyanna Lauren, who handed her the first real contact in porn. Her girlfriend Danyel Cheeks moved her the rest of the way—lined up her first scenes, taught her the ropes. Once Kim hit the set, the restraint dropped. She wanted it hard, loud, filthy; the dirtier the script, the quicker she answered. By 1995 the bookings thinned; she only stepped back in for a handful of shoots she actually wanted. Even then her mark stayed behind, the camera still chasing that unmistakable, hungry style she left on every frame.
Kim Chambers
Kim started stripping at eighteen, still fresh from California. She chased the pole around the country, entering contests wherever the prize money ran. One contest in Florida put her in front of Dyanna Lauren, who handed her the first real contact in porn. Her girlfriend Danyel Cheeks moved her the rest of the way—lined up her first scenes, taught her the ropes. Once Kim hit the set, the restraint dropped. She wanted it hard, loud, filthy; the dirtier the script, the quicker she answered. By 1995 the bookings thinned; she only stepped back in for a handful of shoots she actually wanted. Even then her mark stayed behind, the camera still chasing that unmistakable, hungry style she left on every frame.
