The Missing Link
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We all know the conventional wisdom about sequels, peculiarly afterward ones: their storylines are stale and hackneyed (a cloned Ripley in Alien: Resurrection); their audition is disastrous (Michael Caine in Gullet IV or Sofia Coppola in God III); and they degenerate into crass commercialism (those damned cub wooly guys in Come back of the Jedi). So who said Chi Chi LaRue was ever conventional? Toss out the rulebook and lot up the superlatives! In The Missing Link, Chi Chi goes to the well for the fourth time and comes up with buckets of cum, sweat, slobber and piss. This is harrowingly hard-core and enormously unshod faggot male sex-sleaze at its basest and best. Stale storylines? Attempt 3 hours of wall-to-wall, stem-to-stern fucky-fucky that never gets routine or repetitive. 9 ruthless fucky-fucky scenes, each with a different focus: gangbangs, orgies, uniforms, inter-racials, watersports, cock pumps, and every kind of bootie have fun you can think of - plus some you would never dream of. Theyre corded together by introductions by Blake Harper, who describes his secret fantasies. The sets alternate inbetween a derelict ship that reeks of testosterone and a deserted warehouse that echoes of perspiring muscle-bound workmen. Audition disasters? Attempt the biggest, kinkiest and sexiest cast ever to jism together - 36 stallions, including big-name starlets and a whole steady of newcomers. Nearly every type of man is here, from bald-pated uber-dies to blond-headed pretty-boys, but the emphasis is on rugged, hairy, muscled, male men. The whole cast is garbed in uniforms or dark-hued leather gear, many fitness genital jewelry and tattoos, and all maintain immense erections. Most of all, they clearly are having the time of their lives - shameless and unashamed. Crass commercialism? Attempt a movie that relishes in unrepentant lechery - it is not for the faint of heart. The piss rivulets freely, but thats nothing compared to what gets rammed up rectums. All this craziness is only intensified by the vids stylishness. The production standards are at their highest, with flawless camerawork, editing and lighting, and a pulsating soundtrack by the legendary sleaze-star J.D. Slater.
We all know the conventional wisdom about sequels, peculiarly afterward ones: their storylines are stale and hackneyed (a cloned Ripley in Alien: Resurrection); their audition is disastrous (Michael Caine in Gullet IV or Sofia Coppola in God III); and they degenerate into crass commercialism (those damned cub wooly guys in Come back of the Jedi). So who said Chi Chi LaRue was ever conventional? Toss out the rulebook and lot up the superlatives! In The Missing Link, Chi Chi goes to the well for the fourth time and comes up with buckets of cum, sweat, slobber and piss. This is harrowingly hard-core and enormously unshod faggot male sex-sleaze at its basest and best. Stale storylines? Attempt 3 hours of wall-to-wall, stem-to-stern fucky-fucky that never gets routine or repetitive. 9 ruthless fucky-fucky scenes, each with a different focus: gangbangs, orgies, uniforms, inter-racials, watersports, cock pumps, and every kind of bootie have fun you can think of - plus some you would never dream of. Theyre corded together by introductions by Blake Harper, who describes his secret fantasies. The sets alternate inbetween a derelict ship that reeks of testosterone and a deserted warehouse that echoes of perspiring muscle-bound workmen. Audition disasters? Attempt the biggest, kinkiest and sexiest cast ever to jism together - 36 stallions, including big-name starlets and a whole steady of newcomers. Nearly every type of man is here, from bald-pated uber-dies to blond-headed pretty-boys, but the emphasis is on rugged, hairy, muscled, male men. The whole cast is garbed in uniforms or dark-hued leather gear, many fitness genital jewelry and tattoos, and all maintain immense erections. Most of all, they clearly are having the time of their lives - shameless and unashamed. Crass commercialism? Attempt a movie that relishes in unrepentant lechery - it is not for the faint of heart. The piss rivulets freely, but thats nothing compared to what gets rammed up rectums. All this craziness is only intensified by the vids stylishness. The production standards are at their highest, with flawless camerawork, editing and lighting, and a pulsating soundtrack by the legendary sleaze-star J.D. Slater.
Added: 2015-02-09 • Views: 35 • Duration: 2:58:50
