Well, it had to happen. It probably happened a while back, but with Kenny Host's debut video for Treasure Island Media, I chose to notice...and it will probably change the way I see porn and buy porn in the future. The star is Negative and on Prep...as they say. The star is fetish specialist Nate Grimes, and he's superbly versatile: he can fuck like a stallion and he can take it like a real pig whore, yeah, the cum just flows out of his well-drilled manpussy. He's still a bit too clean-cut for my taste, but as I see more of him, I expect this opinion to change. I need time to create my own fantasy situation for Nate, that's how porn works for me, it inspires...and good sex gets better. I really do believe in stars, and well, it is a relationship...they get it started and my dirty little mind takes it from there. It is visual and it is mental, this relationship and gets dollars out of my pocket and into the pockets of pornographers and that's how this business should work. Once in the WeHo bookstore, Circus of Books, where I had gone to see if I could scare up a copy of Kenboy's so-called conversion party (Hot Desert Knights, c. 2000), I happened upon a dvd with a full-frontal erect Marco Cruise on the cover. I had already worked up my own fantasy profile for Marco: blue collar Latino daddy etc., and I forgot all about Kenboy, and bought the video. It turned out to be a not-very-good effort from a second tier studio...not Marco's fault but, since I already knew him, I wanted him to be shot a certain way and he wasn't. But they got my money, just the same. I've even forgotten the name of that dvd.
Basically, Neg on Prep is truly unsexy. It's safe and it works, and that changes things for those of us, (poisoned in childhood by clueless nuns and priests and old maid aunts & uncles), who get off on sex being filthy, risky, reckless and taboo. A cynic might feel that with negative porn stars, every bareback experience is potentially a conversion. I don't even think that way, but it does change the fantasy route where pornography is supposed to take me. Last year while grazing on Barebackrt, I saw a bull run (as opposed to a cattle call) in the party listings, for tops to fuck Dolf Dietrich. Every one of the bitches responding identified as being 'neg + prep.' This for a sleazy Manhattan bar scene. Yeah, it's changed.
Meanwhile, Nate Grimes can become a superstar if he wants, and I hope he wants; he's great. And as for Brian Bonds, Timarrie Baker, and Justin Case...they all make the grade and I'll be watching their careers and I'll be buying their shit. And it was great to see machotop Steven Richards sit on a raw cock...that alone is worth the price of this video. Kenny Host covers some new territory with his first effort. One thing about Treasure Island Media that is not mentioned often enough, is value. There are a dozen episodes in this video, all cum-laden, and with absolutely no reason for fast forwarding. Manly men, rivers of cum. Kenny Host's Raw Fucks! Buy it off the TIM website, as I had to...just about every porn outlet has stopped selling collateral. Circus of Books, both Silver Lake and WeHo have closed!! Another posting, some other time, for now, buy this video, pozfanatics.
Showing posts with label Kenny's Raw Fucks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kenny's Raw Fucks. Show all posts
Sunday, September 17, 2017
Tuesday, August 22, 2017
Bareback Videos: A Full Circle
Yeah, so I was stoked at the prospect of hitting my local porno shop, gettin' my hands on Treasure Island Media's latest, 'Kenny's Raw Fucks' and making a night of it: porn in my pocket, hittin' my fave spots in the Castro for a couple of cocktails, get home, relax and absorb what promises to be some good old fashioned raunchy sex on video, free from interruptions and friendly intrusions. Just me, Stoli and Kenny Host. On such occasions, sex can wait. That's why I buy this stuff, rather than subscribe to a streaming website: I want and need the collateral evidence of filth.
Except that my local shop has reduced its inventory to just a single rack of boring programmed porn from people like Titan. It possibly makes business sense: for all the shelf space devoted to porn, the yield probably doesn't measure up. I checked around the other shops, even the local smut emporium in my mother's dusty Central Valley cowtown (where the porn palace now resembles a Walgreens), and it's the same story: you won't be able to buy Kenny Host's epic off the shelf. So it's back to the mail order game. Mail order...it went downhill after shopping malls came to predominate the retail scene...and now it's back. Amazon, Zappos, etc. show no sign of retrenchment.
Today I will order 'Kenny's Raw Fucks' online and wait patiently for the postman to deliver. I'm especially interested in this video: it has some old faves, Jon Shields, my buddy Jayson Park (!!), Brian Bonds, pozdicks galore, and Nate Grimes, who may or may not be the fetish star from the old Kink Studios. The 'new Dawson' TIM says. We'll see. I'm sorry we'll have to wait this time, like in the old days. F..u..c..k!
The bareback porn era started almost 20 years ago, in the midst of AIDS, safe sex, and fear, if not hesitation to the point of tedium. I rented a fisting video called 'Depth Charge' and my life changed: it showed bare knuckled fisting. There was a sequel, as I recall, and some raw dick insertions were included. Fleetingly. Michael McKey, the videographer for Steven Scarborough (the director, if I'm not mistaken), went out on his own and produced a couple of outright filthy, raunchy videos starring a mostly bearish cast selected from his clutch of Phoenix buddies. It was about 1998, 1999.
Then I read a review of 'Raunch Lunch,' I think that was the title, or something close to that by a guy named Paul Morris. The review was in one of the so-called 'zines of the era, hastily copied and stapled, available off a shelf deep in the rear of the City Lights bookstore on Castro Street. I bought it, via good old fashioned 19th century mail order. It starred my favorite nom-de-porn...Wyatt Trash (!), and though it would be another couple of years before I put my ass on the mattress, I was already mentally a barebacker. There was nothing I wanted more than Wyatt Trash's daddy dick up my butt.
'Raunch Lunch' proved to be tame compared to Paul's sequel, 'Breed Me,' which featured a headless bottom coaxing multiple loads out of his ass, as bells tolled. This blew me away, and I did the mail order thing until TIM started marketing its product on pornshop shelves. It must have been a Tom Shannon video, slightly pre-Dawson, because Dawson was never VHS, as I recall, and Tom Shannon was in 'Animals,' 'Plowed,' etc....we were trending, overlapping VHS to dvd. It was about 2000. The fact you could buy the stuff over the counter turned out to be pretty meaningful, in retrospect.
So now we're there again. Except in the old days, Paul actually included a stamped (a real stamp pasted with somebody's saliva) return envelope for your mail order check. Think about that for a moment. And where TIM is today.
So, I'm so looking forward to Kenny's renditions of raw fucks. The vodka's waiting.
Except that my local shop has reduced its inventory to just a single rack of boring programmed porn from people like Titan. It possibly makes business sense: for all the shelf space devoted to porn, the yield probably doesn't measure up. I checked around the other shops, even the local smut emporium in my mother's dusty Central Valley cowtown (where the porn palace now resembles a Walgreens), and it's the same story: you won't be able to buy Kenny Host's epic off the shelf. So it's back to the mail order game. Mail order...it went downhill after shopping malls came to predominate the retail scene...and now it's back. Amazon, Zappos, etc. show no sign of retrenchment.
Today I will order 'Kenny's Raw Fucks' online and wait patiently for the postman to deliver. I'm especially interested in this video: it has some old faves, Jon Shields, my buddy Jayson Park (!!), Brian Bonds, pozdicks galore, and Nate Grimes, who may or may not be the fetish star from the old Kink Studios. The 'new Dawson' TIM says. We'll see. I'm sorry we'll have to wait this time, like in the old days. F..u..c..k!
The bareback porn era started almost 20 years ago, in the midst of AIDS, safe sex, and fear, if not hesitation to the point of tedium. I rented a fisting video called 'Depth Charge' and my life changed: it showed bare knuckled fisting. There was a sequel, as I recall, and some raw dick insertions were included. Fleetingly. Michael McKey, the videographer for Steven Scarborough (the director, if I'm not mistaken), went out on his own and produced a couple of outright filthy, raunchy videos starring a mostly bearish cast selected from his clutch of Phoenix buddies. It was about 1998, 1999.
Then I read a review of 'Raunch Lunch,' I think that was the title, or something close to that by a guy named Paul Morris. The review was in one of the so-called 'zines of the era, hastily copied and stapled, available off a shelf deep in the rear of the City Lights bookstore on Castro Street. I bought it, via good old fashioned 19th century mail order. It starred my favorite nom-de-porn...Wyatt Trash (!), and though it would be another couple of years before I put my ass on the mattress, I was already mentally a barebacker. There was nothing I wanted more than Wyatt Trash's daddy dick up my butt.
'Raunch Lunch' proved to be tame compared to Paul's sequel, 'Breed Me,' which featured a headless bottom coaxing multiple loads out of his ass, as bells tolled. This blew me away, and I did the mail order thing until TIM started marketing its product on pornshop shelves. It must have been a Tom Shannon video, slightly pre-Dawson, because Dawson was never VHS, as I recall, and Tom Shannon was in 'Animals,' 'Plowed,' etc....we were trending, overlapping VHS to dvd. It was about 2000. The fact you could buy the stuff over the counter turned out to be pretty meaningful, in retrospect.
So now we're there again. Except in the old days, Paul actually included a stamped (a real stamp pasted with somebody's saliva) return envelope for your mail order check. Think about that for a moment. And where TIM is today.
So, I'm so looking forward to Kenny's renditions of raw fucks. The vodka's waiting.
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