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Four porn stars are paired with a counterpart. Here is where the "Dancing with the Stars" tie-in doesn't quite work. It's never clear just who is supposed to be the seasoned "dancer" and who is the celebrity brought in for ratings. In the end, does it really matter? The introductory antics in porn comedies, here hosted by the lovely LaChine, is something I usually get quickly bored with. Not here. The three judges: director Chi Chi LaRue, gossip columnist Billy Masters, and jack-of-all-trades Bruce Vilanch, seemed to completely go along with the conceit of an on-air talent competition, and though the jabs and jibes were all too scripted, their execution of the scripted remarks went over well. The first of the contestants is the darling Kevin Brown, a twink whose aw-shucks sweetness seems entirely too genuine to be a put-on. And like the other hopefuls who follow, Kevin does a seductive strip-tease for the judges before the real performance gets underway. After shaking his money-maker in their faces (nearly putting Vilanch into coronary arrest) Kevin makes his way to a perfectly concentric bed onstage. Putting me in mind of a circus ring, it seemed the ideal place to be if you're gonna be scored on how well you perform in the sack. And was there ever a more cunning display than Kevin ass-up on a circular bed? He's joined by his partner, Zackary Pierce, who treats our boy to a gentle massage before flipping him over and latching onto his prick. Kevin loses a few points for eye contact (at times he transports himself right out of the scene by keeping his eyes clamped shut or throwing a forearm over his brow) but compensates with a scorching 69. And this pup never loses his wood when Zackary fucks him on his back, gloriously showcasing his one-of-a-kind sunburst tattoo. Moments after Kevin blows his load, he appears before the judge's panel in a simple white terrycloth robe, the sound of canned applause sparkling underneath, an excellent opportunity for Bruce Vilanch to get off a few witty zingers. The groundwork is laid for a few running gags, the evaluation of each successive models' performance is always the same dizzy-headed repeat of a few meaningless phrases and the judges always give the exact same scores. With each successive film I see Manuel Torres in, I become more and more unglued. A hairy fireplug with a penchant for spit-soaked pig sex, his heavy-handed bump-and-grind routine made me blush. Watching him tease his own foreskin, all I could think about was sniffing his stripper pole. Derrick Hanson gets a healthy whiff of Manuel's ass and a few deep sucks on Manny's hole when Manuel sits on his face. The rimming's mutual and by the time these two are finished tasting each other, they're shiny with sweat. Derrick should get a prize just for withstanding Manuel's full-on fuck. The cum-shot that closes this vignette, Manuel standing over Derrick's shoulder and shooting streams of spunk over one flexing pec, is breathtaking. But of all the participants cornholing for the grand title, I was most envious of Luca DiCorso. I'd have to bow out on this one, as I'd surely fail to be fair and impartial judging Arpad Miklos. Arpad brings out the very best in Luca, beginning with a passionate roll around the bed, spiked with deep kisses. Watching Luca peel off Arpad deliciously tight undies, freeing his pulsing uncut masterpiece? Heaven, sheer heaven. Things only escalate from there. For most of the time they spend together, performing for the judges, Luca is curled up onto his shoulder blades, Arpad's thick tongue up his crack or his mouth sucking the life from his dick. Forget the studded dildo -- this is the real prize! Arpad's prick buried deep took some getting used to but once Luca found his rhythm, he's a shoo-in for first place, due in no small part to his scene partner.
Four porn stars are paired with a counterpart. Here is where the "Dancing with the Stars" tie-in doesn't quite work. It's never clear just who is supposed to be the seasoned "dancer" and who is the celebrity brought in for ratings. In the end, does it really matter? The introductory antics in porn comedies, here hosted by the lovely LaChine, is something I usually get quickly bored with. Not here. The three judges: director Chi Chi LaRue, gossip columnist Billy Masters, and jack-of-all-trades Bruce Vilanch, seemed to completely go along with the conceit of an on-air talent competition, and though the jabs and jibes were all too scripted, their execution of the scripted remarks went over well. The first of the contestants is the darling Kevin Brown, a twink whose aw-shucks sweetness seems entirely too genuine to be a put-on. And like the other hopefuls who follow, Kevin does a seductive strip-tease for the judges before the real performance gets underway. After shaking his money-maker in their faces (nearly putting Vilanch into coronary arrest) Kevin makes his way to a perfectly concentric bed onstage. Putting me in mind of a circus ring, it seemed the ideal place to be if you're gonna be scored on how well you perform in the sack. And was there ever a more cunning display than Kevin ass-up on a circular bed? He's joined by his partner, Zackary Pierce, who treats our boy to a gentle massage before flipping him over and latching onto his prick. Kevin loses a few points for eye contact (at times he transports himself right out of the scene by keeping his eyes clamped shut or throwing a forearm over his brow) but compensates with a scorching 69. And this pup never loses his wood when Zackary fucks him on his back, gloriously showcasing his one-of-a-kind sunburst tattoo. Moments after Kevin blows his load, he appears before the judge's panel in a simple white terrycloth robe, the sound of canned applause sparkling underneath, an excellent opportunity for Bruce Vilanch to get off a few witty zingers. The groundwork is laid for a few running gags, the evaluation of each successive models' performance is always the same dizzy-headed repeat of a few meaningless phrases and the judges always give the exact same scores. With each successive film I see Manuel Torres in, I become more and more unglued. A hairy fireplug with a penchant for spit-soaked pig sex, his heavy-handed bump-and-grind routine made me blush. Watching him tease his own foreskin, all I could think about was sniffing his stripper pole. Derrick Hanson gets a healthy whiff of Manuel's ass and a few deep sucks on Manny's hole when Manuel sits on his face. The rimming's mutual and by the time these two are finished tasting each other, they're shiny with sweat. Derrick should get a prize just for withstanding Manuel's full-on fuck. The cum-shot that closes this vignette, Manuel standing over Derrick's shoulder and shooting streams of spunk over one flexing pec, is breathtaking. But of all the participants cornholing for the grand title, I was most envious of Luca DiCorso. I'd have to bow out on this one, as I'd surely fail to be fair and impartial judging Arpad Miklos. Arpad brings out the very best in Luca, beginning with a passionate roll around the bed, spiked with deep kisses. Watching Luca peel off Arpad deliciously tight undies, freeing his pulsing uncut masterpiece? Heaven, sheer heaven. Things only escalate from there. For most of the time they spend together, performing for the judges, Luca is curled up onto his shoulder blades, Arpad's thick tongue up his crack or his mouth sucking the life from his dick. Forget the studded dildo -- this is the real prize! Arpad's prick buried deep took some getting used to but once Luca found his rhythm, he's a shoo-in for first place, due in no small part to his scene partner.
Added: 2018-01-05 • Views: 27 • Duration: 1:53:16
Categories: Anal, Full Movie, Cumshot, Hairy, Kissing, Massage, Rimming, Rough, Small Cocks, Studs, Tattoos, Toys, Twinks, Uncut • Models: Arpad Miklos, Zackary Pierce, Luca DiCorso, Derrick Hanson, Manuel Torres, Derrick Vinyard, Jamie Donovan, Kevin Brown, Billy Masters, Bruce Vilanch, Chi Chi LaRue
