What a beautiful ass!

Our new college hunk Brett has heard this comment from teachers, preachers and guidance counselors ever since he began packing his butt in the pin-stripe uniform of his high school baseball team.

And it’s true, wouldn’t you say? Taut, round. (Imagine tracing your finger along the contour — for hours.)

So when they photographed him on the Fratmen campus and made the mistake of giving him this same complement — he just rolled his eyes and blushed a little … then gave ‘em more of his best side. (read the full article)

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? (read the full article)

Hi everybody, it’s me again, Nightcharm’s Unpaid Intern.

I’ve been living on the Nightcharm campus since I last wrote. Nightcharm’s publisher David K. thought I would learn more about working on a webzine if I was right under his nose. So I packed up my car and here I am. And it’s been great. I’m really sucking up — no, that’s wrong — soaking up the porn biz.

So the other day I was called up from the basement where I work in a tiny cubicle (not complaining, David, but it is small.) I also live down there in a small storeroom off to the side, that has a bed and stuff. So David calls me up from the dungeon (just kidding — insert smiley face here ) during a photo session and I meet these two hotties. (read the full article)

Leave it to Raging Stallion Studios to completely redefine the term ‘rent boy.’

In our latest Inner Circle Rearstable video update we’re featuring Bobby Williams (no relation to Robbie) and Andreas Stich (no relation to Arnold Schwarzenegger) in a burning-down-the-house scene from the film Hot Properties.

The story is a quaint one: Cockhound Bobby is out looking for a house to rent — and some groin cartilage to gnaw on. Andreas is a pushy real estate agent with a mean drive for some tight ass. Soon Bobby is on the couch for a doggy-style pounding (above) followed by hours of five-star cock gobbling from Andreas. (read the full article)

What television lovin’ gay kid from the sixties and seventies hasn’t wondered if I Dream of Jeannie‘s mistress of Middle Eastern magic, Barbra Eden, had a sexy brother of equal hotness?

Well, leave it to Raging Stallion Studios– the San Fran porn producers who go the extra mile to fulfill every erotic fantasy you’ve ever had the pleasure of diddling within your agitated libido — to deliver up the magic.

And yes, we’re talking about a gay male genie. One of those supernatural creatures with the kind of aphrodisiacal spells that can transform a couch full of heterosexual males into a homo-writhing, clusterfucking Kodak moment.

We love disruptions like that. Don’t you?

We thought so. (read the full article)

Deep sleepy eyes. A golden glow. Dark hair. A cock that could do some damage. A butt that asks — no, begs to be fucked. Hard.

Of course we’re talking about Dominic Pacifico, San Francisco’s super-fancy DJ-turned-professional-butt-boy. You might know Dominic from his recent appearance in Joe Gage‘s vaunted return to directing, Arcade on Route Nine. He’s on the receiving side of the wall in a touching father and son glory hole scene.

As hot as that scene is, it only scratches the surface of what a downright nasty boy Dominic can really be. You’ve got to explore his vast archive of fucks on film to truly understand what makes him such an inspiration to aspiring anal fans the world over.

To that end, we’ve got a hum-dinger for you at the Sexgaymes theater in the Inner Circle (our exclusive members’ area). Dominant and hung, Fred Faurtin is our definition of a perfect top, and he certainly doesn’t hold back when it’s Pacifico’s tight little anus he’s filling up with hot dick. (read the full article)

 
Crowds gathered and thousands cheered when the gentle scene you see above was shot near the Bay Bridge in San Francisco.

Gossip rarely travels back to us from a porn shoot. Usually the ass-pounding, dick-swallowing on display in the Video area of Nightcharm’s Inner Circle is all we need to know. But a fluffer on the set of the latest Raging Stallion dick-flick thought this story was too good to keep to himself. A long-time friend of Nightcharm, he called us in the middle of the night with his breathless, behind-the-scenes tale: (read the full article)

Treasure Island Media’s resident stud shaman is back in Meat Packing.

His previous two movies, Dawson’s 20-Load Weekend and the coyly titled, Cum Sloppy Buttholes have garnered the burly giant a world of fans and made him a stand out among Treasure Island’s gallery of irresistible male stars.

Before we send you on your way to view his latest video extravaganza, consider the following fun facts:

Dawson’s from a small town in Maine.

Off-camera he works for a biotech company’s sales dept.

His love life? As he told a reporter recently he has “No significant other at this point. Not many people can handle the porn thing, let alone that it’s bareback. It’ll take a special person to see past that.”

And what about the furor surrounding barebacking? (read the full article)

Just how far should two guys go?

This story is so old there was probably a version of it unearthed with the Dead Sea scrolls.

Two guys, lots of kicking back, some beer (actually a couple of six-packs worth), a bowl of Funyuns, ESPAN blaring in the background — and then the proverbial offer: “How ’bout a neck massage, dude?”

Jump cut.

Piles of clothing litter the floor. The dog crying at the door to be let back in. The aftereffects of a not-so-good blow job and then … someone has the idea to do a little rimming. (read the full article)

To the American ear, the name Francisco conjures up the city of San Francisco, rising above a bay on rollercoaster hills, with its bars and tourists and gingerbread trim.

But that would be the wrong city, the wrong bay, the wrong tourists for this Francisco.

Like many a young man with a hardon who is approached by a photographer on a Southern beach and offered money — not a fortune certainly, but more than enough for the proverbial “trouble” — to free the monster bulging out of his low-rise swim trunks, in front of a camera, for strictly humanitarian purposes — no, not to save Africa, which thankfully has Ryan and Paula and Randy and Simon to save it — but for the good governance and continuing sanity of all us wonderful people out here in the dark…

Like so many young men, we say, this young man decided not to use his real name but fabricated one from the glittering syllables of the city where he was from, or wanted to be from — his soul city. (read the full article)