Babes Ballin' Boys!

The old ball and chain: We've all dragged one of those around. Some, taking vows, even allow it to pull them beneath the waves. Bondage isn't just for s/m freaks, obviously; it's integral to real relationships. For the purposes of yanking our own chains, this week we ponder the fantasies of married women, intimacy of the internal cumshot, and instances of Lucille Balls ballin' Ricky Ricardos.

While the concept of Married Women Fantasies (Quad) seems self-evident—housewives indulge romance-novel reveries or lust after the landscaper—the flick relies on much duller clichés. Although we can only guess at the fantasy so radiantly acted out by freckly Allison White. Instead of exposition, we're immediately given the standard positions—plus a gentle face-fuck, pretzel stand (my clever phrase for when a dude squats over a lady resting on her shoulders, back vertical, knees to her chest), and strangely ominous keyboard music. Better cast as a high school seductress than somebody's old lady (not that I'm complaining), White here looks like a formerly hot mother's memory of perkier days. (Might as well MILF those for all they're worth.)

And then there are those other ideal days, when a young, childless bride can devote herself to the homestead. Juicy blond Holly Chase washes dishes in a summer dress; when her husband comes home, she tells him that she spent "three hours" cleaning the house. He tips her like any maid (or, at least, like the Latina maid in Chica Boom 13), bending her over the sink, and then—moving to the laundry room, she must be dreaming!—lifting her onto the washer machine. Appropriately, he empties his bag on both.

Besides the obvious (but arguable) humiliation aspect, cumshots rarely occasion close examination. But when Venus finally convinces her script-reader hubby to put down the screenplay he's studying and strip, he insists on a facial, and she literally runs away. Finally, after promising to not bring work home for a month, he convinces her to take the shot—in both of her eyes. (The fantasy, apparently, was that she could refuse getting slimed.) If he's not allowed to read, then she's not either. Unless you want to think of it in oedipal terms: the wife blinding herself as she finally recognizes the reality of her sex life. Perhaps they should've called it Married Women Myths.

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That's a good place to end that review, I know, but the movie's last two scenes beg description. Generic porn star Britanney Star (told ya) gives it up only after extracting a promise for a new Mercedes convertible, recalling Ice-T's "wife 'ho" myth-fantasy. And the fabulously titted Summer Nite (she's hot, but not dark) isn't even hitched. Dick Nasty, a pushy Australian with a penchant for demanding deep-throats, plays a landlord who catches Nite smoking a cigarette in his kitchen. She admits her "oral fixation" as a large crucifix swings tantalizingly between her ta-tas; you can imagine where that leads. Oh you nasty boys!

Now about those nasty babes. I have no penetrating analysis of the back-asswards Babes Ballin' Boys Volume 10 (Pleasure) to offer; shit, I could hardly sit through it. OK, enough with the straight face—only a party-pooper would refuse a finger up the ass during a blowjob. But there's obviously a difference between one digit and a nine-inch strap-on. All gay as far as I can tell (one starred in Frat Boys on the Loose #4), the studs here do their best to act like they weren't born bottoms. Instead, they come off like the nicest dudes in porn—and usually on themselves.

While I wouldn't let her pop my cherry, the buxom Chloe Devine could undoubtedly break my heart. She wears black Doc Martens and a light-blue dildo without sacrificing her femininity. At scene's end, as the boy (an interviewee for a job requiring a "strong back") skillfully sucks the lube off her magic stick, she even daintily rubs one out beneath her apparatus. Later, a Latina with an ass perfectly pinched by her straps attacks a cue-ball masseur who takes the term "full-body" at face value; she pins him to the table ("When are men gonna be the bitches?" "How the fuck should I know!"), fucks his big mouth, and ravishes his little rear, as the poor guy's shaven head grows red and veiny.

"You know how you always wanna fuck me in the ass?" a college gal later asks her boyfriend. "What is THAT?" he responds, spying his lover's herection. Whatever it is, he winds up gagging and sitting on it. Finally, a friendly-faced girl with "penis envy" blindfolds and bones a summer camp fling ("Aww, that's a big cock! It's goin' in my ass!" "Shut up!"). Many people with penises would envy her ultimate accomplishment: "I made you cum the first time I fucked you!" she gleefully announces at scene's end.

Boys almost always get to squirt, but not—the aforementioned script-reader aside—necessarily where they want to. Please! Cum Inside Me 8 (Randy West) compiles some of slick oldster Randy West's "favorite internal cum shots." Randy's word is like money shot in the bank (even though my fave internals have happened off-camera—gotta love it when your girl goes on the pill!). Finding goodies in his extensive oeuvre is like shooting sperm in a barrel; here he guns for tight spots, whether featuring newbies (18-year-old Kaylee; 18-year-old Jassie) or anal with been-there-done-him stars.

Among the latter, the fierce Jenna Haze. One of the lovely lady bartenders at my favorite bar, Siberia, tells me that although every woman resists butt love, those eased into it prefer nothing else forever after. The always sincere Jenna makes an excellent case for that bold claim, slapping the mattress, yanking the comforter, and slipping into some primordial dialect equally reminiscent of the dirty South and filthy Bronx—"Oh! Mah! Fuggin'! GAWD!"—as she plants a vibrator on her clit and Randy plants his seed in her bum. "I cried and bled and hated it the first time," she breathlessly admits afterward. Now she's having a ball!

Pleasure Productions, 59 Lake Drive, Hightown, NJ 08520,

Randy West Productions, 14141 Covello Street, unit 8C, Van Nuys, CA 91405

Quad Pictures, 15041 Calvert Street, suite B, Van Nuys, CA 91411

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