“At ease, soldier!” That’s the latest from the Fantasy Boys Theater in Nighthcharm’s Inner Circle members area. We can’t know his actual name, but names aren’t really so important when faced with the crazy-making combination of a lightly freckled redhead with a massive and rigid cock. Any name will do. “Ron.” How about “Ron?”

From our friends at Fantasy Boys:

“After a day of serving his county, this dirty boy needs to freshen up. A hot shower with lots of suds get him squeaky clean, and there’s no better feeling then to blow your load after a hard day’s work.”

Whatever the case, just show us some more of that big wonderful dick, “Ron.”

Remember your friend’s hot dad? He used to get home from his jog covered in sweat and start taking off his clothes on the way to the shower. The divorce had been hard on him and you always wondered if there was some way you could… help. Maybe you got to see a little something or maybe you didn’t but it wasn’t ever enough, was it?

Johnny is here to help you resolve any issues you may have lingering from those days. Thankfully, he’s every bit as hung as you could have wished, and he’s not at all shy about working out a nice load right before your eyes. You can almost smell the salt off this guy’s skin, and it’s very, very nice.

It’s for members, of course, in our exclusive, Inner Circle.

Blame the new season. Blame the new moon last night — in Aries, the Mars-ruled sign. Mars! God of springtime, battle and red-headed college dudes with peculiar tattoos.

Yep, we’re at it again. Singing (and showing) the praises of auburn hair and fire crotches — like we’ve done so many times before.

Guys like the Inner Circle’s latest Fratmen, Danny, appear randomly within the boneheaded world of gay frat porn — their copper tops flaring magically, signaling piquant mysteries and hot hot sex. Reason enough to celebrate their appearance over and over again.

Join us inside while we watch Danny wake up horny. Yep, it’s a lazy Sunday morning. The perfect time to massage and inflame a randy cock to the bursting point.

Ah, our auburn wonder. Ah, spring!

…and it’s not hard to see why. The latest stud from our Cruiserboys Theater is an irresistible balance of perfection and imperfection that’s madly fuckable. Smooth tan skin and a gorgeous dusting of fuzz are the first things we notice when we look him over, but do we detect a slight overbite? Are his eyes a bit crooked? Yes, maybe, and it makes us want to pin him down and work it all out, physically. (more…)

It’s that pre-spring time of year again, when college and university students across the nation think about getting naked and shooting their first porn film.

And who can blame them? It’s a rite of passage that’s replaced hazing or the antique gestures of kegging until you puke or oiling up your body and cramming yourself into a phone booth with fifteen other studs.

And, too, the money is great. Think about it: Is stroking your cock to climax in a beautifully tiled shower really a form of ‘work’? Nah, just a pre-springtime high!

The extra cash comes in handy, of course. But it’s really about showing off the body that you’ve worked so hard to define during the winter.

Like our new Fratmen star, corn-fed, red-headed Hank. A rowdy exhibitionist that knows how to throw a mean spooge bomb. (more…)

Isn’t a body that is scantily clad more alluring than a body stripped bare?

Stop a moment and consider the question. You, with your fervid drive to gobble up all the eye candy you can possibly ingest without causing premature blindness. We’re talking to you.

Take for instance one of the Inner Circle’s new models Javan (yes, that’s his real name). Doesn’t the above photo give pause — freeing your fantasy world, allowing your imagination to explode? Concocting your own private, inner world reverie. How satisfying. Yes?

Isn’t that condition a thousand times more erotic than a lewd photograph featuring some model’s engorged genitalia rearing wantonly stiff against the background of a lush California fern garden?

Well, isn’t it? (more…)

Boys showing off their junk!

We live in the Age of Porncreep, where everyone aspires to be a porn model — from the boy next door to the store-bought boy on DVD. The Under-Thirties just can’t take off their clothes for the camera fast enough.

And yet…What could be more wholesome and natural, to quote Tallulah Bankhead, who when Chico Marx tried to get a rise out of the lanky glamorgirl with a crude “I intend to fuck you, Miss Bankhead,” replied, “And so you shall, you dear old-fashion boy!”

Old-fashion boys have always been proud of their displays — the peacock (not peahen) flares open his tail to reveal a starry twilight sky out of the Arabian Nights, and this magnificence finds its boydom equivalent in the raging two-handfuls of hard-on.

Indeed, what could be more wholesome and natural …. with one slight but very modern twist.

Here we invoke the shade of the now forgotten Jeff Gannon:

In the wake of the gay-escort scandal that would reveal Jeff Gannon to be not only a Republican mouthpiece planted at White House press briefings to ask friendly, Bush-idolatrous questions but that he himself — a studly Lex Luthor lookalike with bald, cue-ball head — was a gay hustler with a website that sold dates, underwear, and his own bodily secretions … in the wake of this the most delicious “Family Values” scandal of 2005, ol’ Jeffrey faced the hostile questioners with a bland Lex Luthor smile and the sort of uncanny clairvoyance usually left to Allison DuBois. (more…)

Reader, you have to climb to the top of Mount Everest to get to the Valley of the Ho, Ho, Ho Big Giant. Visual aid at left.

If anyone is living a charmed life, surely it’s the porn stars. And yet, boys, guys, bros, believe it or not, they put on their jockstraps one leg at a time! Just like you and I!

And like the rest of us, porn stars are reporting back to work today, bleary-eyed and a bit unsteady on their pins, the confetti of Times Square and the glitter of 101 morning parties still embedded in the woof (woof!) and weave of their well-tanned flesh.

Ah yes: New year; same old same old. Wouldn’t you know it: they’re just working stiffs, after all — if somewhat stiffer than the temp agency usually sends out.

And in their own way, they are joining the universal chorus or Workers United. But that’s not the Internationale the comrades are singing. No, this is a hip-hop vocalaise, a beatbox anthem to the acquisition of More, More, More. More bling, gaudy and gold and made out of chrome

All together now. Shake those money-makers. Do that thang. And the colored girls sing: Welcome to Hell. Welcome to Hell. Let us show you to your desk. (more…)