…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…)
“One of my favorite hangouts was The Follies. There were so many closeted neocons who trolled for cock and ass there, particularly cock and ass on younger men…
“One of them I would later recognize as Larry Craig. I followed him …to a Capitol Hill neighborhood.. We walked up the alley and through the back door of a house, with him repeating several times, ‘You were never here. You don’t know me. Right?’ and me responding, ‘Right!’ in boyish submission…Then, he stripped naked and asked me to suck him. I complied for a while, then he disappeared and returned with lube and a condom to fuck me with. It was a clumsy and unremarkable fuck…Still, he blew his load, ripped the dirty condom off and ordered me to get dressed without wiping myself…
“As he reached for the door, he took a $20 bill from his wallet, shoved it in my front pocket, adding ‘Remember, I can buy and sell your ass ten thousand times over. You were never here. Don’t try to come back here. You don’t know me.’”
“Snow and Stiffler were angry that they had been having sex with a man — when they thought they were having sex with a 12-year-old, authorities said.”
“Sorry, but I was impressed. In the year’s most psychotic media moment, Britney created something more real than reality TV: entertainment without borders, an unconsciously brilliant deconstruction of American Idolism, a disintegration in slo-mo. You could almost call it art.”
You decide.
At top, the Top — Parker Williams, the current hunkerooie shooting his works at the Raging Stallion Theater in the Inner Circle.
At bottom, the Bottom — Pete, simply and quite anonymously Pete as bottoms often are in the land of Porn — a mischievous Lateen who is this week’s featured delight in the Maximo Latino theater.
Let your eye wander down a few paragraphs where young Pete offers you his … um, willingness, as boys his age say, “to try anything.”
Now If you were on a sinking ship and you could only save one — no, no, too negative! … brighter, lighter hypothetical please!
Okay, if you were on a desert island and would be stranded there for, oh, forever, who would you want to be the Professor to your Gilligan (no, that sounds like we favor the top). (more…)
“They gave me a date-rape drug and then they used me like a lollipop.”
Who among us is not chilled by these words, ladies and gentlemen?
And they used him … like a lollipop!
The jury is instructed to exam the picture at right, mindful that it is a recreation by professional actors of the incident that took place on Thursday last at the Dog and Pony Show, a dinner theater on South Street.
My client assures us that the photo, and the entire Raging Stallion video based upon the incident, is — again these are his words — “accurate in the extreme.”
You have met my client: he sits here before you. He could be any one of us who made the mistake of trusting a well-known celebrity and staying after the bar had closed to meet what the celebrity referred to as “the cast.”
My client had grown up idolizing this celebrity. This celebrity seemed to him, as he would to you or me, an old friend, a familiar face, the most handsome stud from a show full of handsome studs, the wonderful and — for my client — life-changing Melrose Place. (more…)
