Screwing with the Starlets
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Smashing with the Stars" fares less well as a send-up of the similarly-named TV showcase than as an opportunity for Coco LaChine and Chi Chi LaRue to do their comic turns. LaChine and squad go for absolute broke and end up being as much a part of the fun as the actual fucking. As far as prizes go, a chunky, platinum spray-painted fake penis that's studded with gewgaws may not be worth coveting. But the notoriety that comes along with being crowned starlet plower is another matter. 4 pornography starlets are paired with a counterpart. Here is where the "Dancing with the Stars" tie-in doesn't fairly work. It's never clear just who is supposed to be the seasoned "dancer" and who is the celeb brought in for ratings. In the end, does it really matter? The introductory antics in pornography comedies, here hosted by the ultra-cute LaChine, is something I usually get promptly bored with. Not here. The trio judges: director Chi Chi LaRue, gossip columnist Billy Masters, and jack-of-all-trades Bruce Vilanch, seemed to totally go along with the conceit of an on-air talent competition, and tho the jabs and jibes were all too scripted, their execution of the scripted remarks went over well. The first-ever of the contestants is the darling Kevin Brown, a twunk whose aw-shucks sweetness seems entirely too genuine to be a put-on. And like the other hopefuls who follow, Kevin does a provocative 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 ideally concentric couch onstage. Putting me in mind of a circus ring, it seemed the flawless place to be if you're gonna be scored on how well you perform in the sack. And was there ever a more cunning demonstrate than Kevin ass-up on a circular bed? He's joined by his partner, Zackary Pierce, who handles our man to a sensitized rubdown before flipping him over and latching onto his prick. Kevin loses several points for eye contact (at times he transports himself right out of the scene by keeping his eyes clipped shut or tossing a forearm over his brow) but compensates with a molten 69. And this pup never loses his prick when Zackary penetrates him on his back, gloriously demonstrating 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 supreme opportunity for Bruce Vilanch to get off several witty zingers. The groundwork is laid for several running gags, the evaluation of each successive models' performance is always the same dizzy-headed repeat of several meaningless phrases and the judges always give the exact same scores. With each successive film I watch Manuel Torres in, I become more and more unglued. A wooly fireplug with a penchant for spit-soaked pig sex, his heavy-handed bump-and-grind routine made me blush. Witnessing him tease his own foreskin, all I could think about was nuzzling his stripper pole. Derrick Hanson gets a healthy whiff of Manuel's ass and several deep inhales on Manny's crevice when Manuel sits on his face. The rimming's mutual and by the time these 2 are finished degustating each other, they're shiny with sweat. Derrick should get a reward just for withstanding Manuel's full-on fuck. The cum-shot that closes this vignette, Manuel standing over Derrick's shoulder and shooting flows of cum over one flexing pec, is breathtaking.
Smashing with the Stars" fares less well as a send-up of the similarly-named TV showcase than as an opportunity for Coco LaChine and Chi Chi LaRue to do their comic turns. LaChine and squad go for absolute broke and end up being as much a part of the fun as the actual fucking. As far as prizes go, a chunky, platinum spray-painted fake penis that's studded with gewgaws may not be worth coveting. But the notoriety that comes along with being crowned starlet plower is another matter. 4 pornography starlets are paired with a counterpart. Here is where the "Dancing with the Stars" tie-in doesn't fairly work. It's never clear just who is supposed to be the seasoned "dancer" and who is the celeb brought in for ratings. In the end, does it really matter? The introductory antics in pornography comedies, here hosted by the ultra-cute LaChine, is something I usually get promptly bored with. Not here. The trio judges: director Chi Chi LaRue, gossip columnist Billy Masters, and jack-of-all-trades Bruce Vilanch, seemed to totally go along with the conceit of an on-air talent competition, and tho the jabs and jibes were all too scripted, their execution of the scripted remarks went over well. The first-ever of the contestants is the darling Kevin Brown, a twunk whose aw-shucks sweetness seems entirely too genuine to be a put-on. And like the other hopefuls who follow, Kevin does a provocative 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 ideally concentric couch onstage. Putting me in mind of a circus ring, it seemed the flawless place to be if you're gonna be scored on how well you perform in the sack. And was there ever a more cunning demonstrate than Kevin ass-up on a circular bed? He's joined by his partner, Zackary Pierce, who handles our man to a sensitized rubdown before flipping him over and latching onto his prick. Kevin loses several points for eye contact (at times he transports himself right out of the scene by keeping his eyes clipped shut or tossing a forearm over his brow) but compensates with a molten 69. And this pup never loses his prick when Zackary penetrates him on his back, gloriously demonstrating 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 supreme opportunity for Bruce Vilanch to get off several witty zingers. The groundwork is laid for several running gags, the evaluation of each successive models' performance is always the same dizzy-headed repeat of several meaningless phrases and the judges always give the exact same scores. With each successive film I watch Manuel Torres in, I become more and more unglued. A wooly fireplug with a penchant for spit-soaked pig sex, his heavy-handed bump-and-grind routine made me blush. Witnessing him tease his own foreskin, all I could think about was nuzzling his stripper pole. Derrick Hanson gets a healthy whiff of Manuel's ass and several deep inhales on Manny's crevice when Manuel sits on his face. The rimming's mutual and by the time these 2 are finished degustating each other, they're shiny with sweat. Derrick should get a reward just for withstanding Manuel's full-on fuck. The cum-shot that closes this vignette, Manuel standing over Derrick's shoulder and shooting flows of cum over one flexing pec, is breathtaking.
Added: 2017-11-17 • Views: 22 • Duration: 1:53:16
Categories: Anal, Cumshot, GangBang, Hairy, Hunks, Kissing, Massage, Rimming, Rough, Studs, Tattoos, Toys, Twinks • Models: Arpad Miklos, Zackary Pierce, Luca DiCorso, Derrick Hanson, Manuel Torres, Derrick Vinyard, Jamie Donovan, Kevin Brown, Billy Masters, Bruce Vilanch, Chi Chi LaRue
