Love, sex and interminable pop-culture references

Category: Soft Porn (Page 2 of 4)

ILB’s posts about softcore, his favourite porn subgenre

Keeping the British End Up: The Ups and Downs of a Handyman (1975)

Since I started this meme, I’ve always kind of assumed that this film would come along at some point. Not that it’s particularly well-known, or memorable, or even particularly good… but I do remember it by name. Handyman. I also remember watching it, in full, on TV late one night, and then going to bed questioning my life choices.

VHS cover featuring a cartoon of Bob looking like an idiot.
My Glod! There’s a VHS release?

In fact, since then I’ve found out that this was meant to be the start of another franchise of British sex comedies – in the vein of the Adventures of… or famed Confessions series – but, due to the failure of this first instalment, it never quite got off the ground.

Let’s find out why.

The Ups and Downs of a Handyman (1985)
Director: John Sealey
Starring: Barry Stokes, Penny Meredith, Gay Soper, Sue Lloyd, Bob Todd, et al.

It’s not difficult to see where the idea for something like this came from. Written by Derrick Slater from an idea by the director himself, it takes a trope that works (working-class salt-of-the-earth type attempts to do his job; ends up in bed with beautiful women) and runs with it. The problem here is that it doesn’t appear to know where it’s running to.

I shall explain. Although the film itself starts in London (indeed it has a montage of the London traffic as the opening sequence), it quickly transpires that Margaretta (Meredith), a faithful wife, has inherited a little country cottage in the fictional village of Sodding Chipbury…

…no, wait, I haven’t finished laughing yet…

Husband having sex with wife while she chats to her mother on the phone.
Marital bliss, with added phone.

…and transplants herself there, taking with her her husband Bob (Stokes), who takes on a job as a handyman for hire in order to pay the bills. This is a British sex comedy, though, so of course you know where that’s going.

My memory of this one may be sketchy, but a few things I remembered before viewing this again were:

– a catchy theme song (written by Vic Elms, as it turns out, and sung by Stokes himself. I also remember it being more catchy than it actually is.)
– a title sequence in “British seventies sex comedy yellow”, which is definitely very much there
– a frolicking haystack sex scene
– lots and lots of casual nudity but practically no sex
– and not much else!

I wasn’t far off. For what it’s worth, Handyman does contain all those sorts of things. It ticks a lot of by-the-numbers boxes as well: dirty old men with pretty young wives, a hapless wide-eyed policeman, broad physical pratfalls played for cheap laughs, lots of scenes in double time (seriously, they Billy Whizz half these bits) and a protagonist who is physically unremarkable but seemingly irresistible to women.

Three nude people in some black-looking water,
Bath threesome. The water here looks filthy!

Yes, I said that last bit. The problem here is with the main actor. Stokes isn’t unattractive – he’s a decent-looking enough bloke – but the character he’s playing definitely is. He’s mostly completely gormless, seemingly completely unaware of what’s going on, sporting this look that’s reminiscent of someone who’s just been struck over the head with a metal pipe! He has none of the cheeky charm or the innocent-but-keen attitude of the other male protagonists of the time, and the script isn’t doing him any favours. In fact, the best lines go to the women…

When we get to the bathroom, you pull it out!

pretty young woman

…but, bear in mind, the fact that they’re the best doesn’t really mean they’re any good.

What I did get wrong was the amount of sex. It isn’t particularly explicit, but there is actually quite a lot of this – brief though the scene may be (the longest sex scene is right at the beginning, between husband and wife). There’s a threesome in the bath at one point, the aforementioned frolicking haystack scene, sex with the squire’s wife, sex with Maisie, sex in a car with the blonde, and…

…yeah, let’s go through these,

Threesome in the bath: This happens during Bob’s first handyman job, with the pretty young woman quoted above (whose dad owns the village shop) and her boss. There is genuinely no introduction to this – Bob trips and falls into the bath on top of her, and it just starts!

Incestuous threesome on top of a haystack! Yes, really!
The haystack scene. Bob is on the right; Polly is under him, but you can’t really tell.

The haystack scene: This has some sort of precursor, insofar as Bob comes across Polly, a woman sunbathing nude, who puts him to work shovelling hay and then does a striptease for him basically because she can. Her mother then turns up(!), who appears to be about the same age(!!), and they all have sex in the hay(!!!), and nobody appears to see the problem with this?

Sex with the squire’s wife: After a meeting of classy ladies, Bob gets hired by the squire’s wife. The squire himself is only interested in spanking (in fact, there’s a whole spanking scene here!), but she’s more interested in having sex with Bob. As with the aforementioned two, this doesn’t really have any buildup – she just disrobes and they get on with it!

Sex with Maisie: Maisie (Soper) is presented as a woman with strange fetishes – a few Gothic artefacts on the wall, some BDSM gear, that sort of thing. Again, this is all some sort of hint that the women in the village are both sexually starved and a little odd, but the handyman sleeps with her anyway. The BDSM subplot doesn’t go anywhere, by the way.

The car scene: Bob doesn’t even take his clothes off for this one. While he and the car’s owner are in flagrante delicto, the car’s brake comes off and it careens down a flat road (although quite how…), flattening Fred (the cop)’s bike and initiating a trouble-with-the-law subplot that also doesn’t go anywhere!

Old man spanking his pretty young wife. The idiot forgot to take his hat off.
The squire forgot to take his hat off. Tch, how careless.

In fact, none of these subplots do. Fred has his own which only really amounts to following Bob around. There’s a subplot involving indecent literature in the shop, the spanking squire having a completely topless maid who otherwise wears traditional “French maid” dress, some very ill-advised fox hunts during which young ladies appear intentionally, and the aforementioned incest and BDSM references, and none of them bear any relevance to the main plot…

…BECAUSE THERE ISN’T ONE!

And that’s not hyperbole. Handyman is incredibly episodic and could have just as easily been a miniseries of short sketches. It doesn’t even have a real ending; it just kind of finishes, leaving it open for a sequel which never happens. It’s also badly lit, badly edited, badly directed, and there’s one scene where the spanking squire’s mouth moves but no dialogue whatsoever is heard! Nice one, movie!

I’ve seen in several places that this is “the worst of the worst”, and while it isn’t – there are worse, and this has a good helping of nudity, so at least it delivers on that front – it’s definitely not good. It’s got a lot of what makes a British sex comedy in it, but it completely becomes unstuck, and the initial set-up may as well not have happened when you consider how all-at-sea this ends up being.

And now to try and get that theme song out of my head.

Music Video Sunday: Billie Myers

Tell me who would you be?
Would you be me?
The woman in me?
Would you like to be under my skin?
I will let you in, yeah yeah yeah

Hello, internet! Do you want to know what I just found out about Billie Myers? Have a guess. No, go on. Not about the fact that she’s bisexual; I knew that already. Or that she used to be a nurse. Or that she criticised Obama for failing to mention marriage equality in a speech. Or that she has a remix album. Or that she’s from Coventry. No. None of them.

What I just found out is that she sang Kiss The Rain.

I genuinely didn’t know this. I remember the song being on NOW That’s What I Call Music! 38, but I don’t remember ever being into it. What I was into was her 1998 follow-up Tell Me, which reached number 28 in the charts and was also probably responsible for my entire sexual awakening.

I shall explain.

Black-and-white shot of a couple kissing.
This is the sort of screenshot I’d expect from a normal Soft Porn Sunday!

I was 13 in 1998. Having tried to convince myself for the past two years that I wasn’t actually interested in sex had proved to be a fruitless endeavour. I was now getting more interested in my body and what made it tick, and certain words or phrases (or ideas) did so. Making love was certainly one of them, as opposed to the shorter, four-letter words that the rowdy boys in my year used as punctuation. I was also aroused by various odd ideas like being encased in a sex machine or staying at school overnight to have sex with the girl I sat next to in French.

And Tell Me by Billie Myers.

For those of you that don’t know, Tell Me is a song about sex. More specifically, it’s a song in which Billie envisions as herself as the person with whom she is having sex, while having sex with them. In it she entreats the person (who doesn’t have a specific gender) to tell her

Oh, how does it feel
Making love to me like you do?

and even freely admits that

Naked, oh, I like you naked
And when I fake it, you like me more

To a thirteen-year-old, this was nothing short of a revelation. A song about having sex, by a woman who’s probably at some point had sex, who clearly enjoys sex, and is comfortable enough to admit so. What is she, some sort of goddess?

And then we have the music video.

Billie Myers with her shirt half-undone, exposing her bra, in front of a multicoloured background.
Billie’s audition to be the next Max Headroom was met with mixed reviews.

I’ve been watching porn for a long time now and I still don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite as sexually charged. The video is – there is no other word for it – HOT. There is a kind of plot, I suppose, but the majority of it is disconnected shots of moderately sexual activity happening in various places (centred around a strip club, which is where the video’s prologue starts). Throughout its 4:50 runtime, we get:

– people getting frisky, both with Billie Myers, and each other
– people getting frisky, both in pairs and in threes, and occasionally in groups
– occasional shots of an Indian goddess doing a belly dance
The Matrix-like spacey black outfits
– Max Headroom-ish kaleidoscopic backgrounds
– women wearing nothing but a bra
– strippers wearing very little on their lower half
– everyone being really sultry and nobody actually giving a fuck
– a couple towards the end possibly actually having sex on the bar

A couple in skintight black catsuits in front of neon lights on a dark background.
Hey, this new TRON remake looks good.

Billie spends the entire video in various states of undress, possibly doing a striptease herself (or is it a sort of “exposing my vulnerability” thing? Whatever it is, I’m grateful for it), and in fact the final shot is of her, slightly abashed, putting her clothes back on and fading out.

It’s all very clever, very tantalising, incredibly sexy, and it’s underscored by the song itself, which is great in its own right. Add the lyrics to the excellent music and there’s very little doubt as to why this was my gateway drug back in 1998.

*

Billie Myers doing her shirt up at the end of the video.
Don’t cover your modesty, Billie. You have nothing to hide.

“I wonder what this song is called?” said my dad, jocularly, as Billie sang “tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me…” while gyrating on Top of the Pops.
“Hnnnnnnnnnnnngh,” I said unhelpfully, before realising he’d made a joke.
“Anyway, I’m going to make dinner. Do you want to help?”
“Would I have to stand up?”
“…I expect so…”

Throb.

“I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

Soft Porn Sunday: Jillian Janson & Tyler Borresch

AKA: “Did I Really Waste My Birthday Money On This?”

My apologies, first of all, for taking two years to do this one. That is to say that this flick was released (if you can call it “released”) two years ago and I didn’t know it existed until very recently. I should pay more attention, or something.

Anyway. It’s been more than a decade since Surrender Cinema made anything. The fact that this film exists at all is a marvel – considering that the first Femalien was made in 1996 (and largely considered one of their best) and followed by the poorly-received Femalien 2 (1998) and archive footage re-release Femaliens: Seduction of the Species (2017). This is, in name at least, the fourth in the Femalien series, almost a quarter of the century after the first one came out.

Fuck me, I’m old.

As this excellent review by Jason Coffman says, this is an entry in the Femalien series which doesn’t carry the Surrender Cinema label (or that of its predecessor studio Torchlight, or successor Twilight) – rather it was released under the banner of Full Moon (its parent company), and more specifically as one of Charles Band’s Deadly Ten, a collection of low-budget horror movies which are Full Moon’s usual fare.

It also has nothing to do with Femalien. The plot itself involves a planet named Thanagar (DC are getting a lawyer), on which a research team have landed; they are joined, eventually, by delegates from the high council of Altaria (Pokémon are getting a lawyer). While the researchers’ professor Dara’Tel Quenthosz (Denise Milfort) starts going mad with power, things are thrown into a spin, and it’s up to those who have retained their sanity to sort things out.

I’m aware this sounds like an MST3K movie plot. The question on everyone’s lips, I’m sure (mine, at least), is that most prescient: “where’s da seks @???”)

Appearance: Femalien: Cosmic Crush (2020)
Characters: Marion Ovudo & Jeetz Axelrod

As opposed to the first two films in the series – and, yes, it feels odd to write that – there genuinely isn’t a lot of sex in Cosmic Crush. There’s plenty of nudity (some of the characters may as well not have any costumes in the wardrobe), but very little actual sex. It’s a part of the plot (insofar as the Thanagarian Pleasure Pod, yes that’s a thing don’t question me, is a part of the plot), but the majority of the sex is implied – light petting and a little foreplay and then a quick fade out. For a while, I was wondering if I had bought a cut version of the DVD!

One of the actual sex scenes happens fairly early on in the film, however. Our main character, Marion (who’s on the mission because of her father or something, I dunno), begins the film in a relationship with Jeetz (who’s on the mission because he is). The opening scene, which is ostensibly about the team making a bumpy landing on Thanagar, cuts to Marion and Jeetz every now and again. They can’t help with the landing because they’re…

…busy.

Brunette with long hair has sex with a man on his back. Her arse is obscured by silver bedding.
Doesn’t look like the most comfortable place to have sex, really.

Our first inkling of what they are up to comes just after an entreaty to “hold onto something!”, so I suppose they are doing so (in fact, I suspect that line wasn’t entirely serendipitous, but you never know with this sort of thing). It’s a very quick shot, of course, but it leaves no doubt as to what they are doing.

A few cuts between crew later and we are treated to a slightly longer, slightly more explicit snatch of sex scene. Marion (Janson) is riding Jeetz (Borresch) in a little sleeping cubby that seems to be designed particularly for people to have sex in the astride position. I fail to see how anyone could actually sleep in one, but then again, I’ve had sex in a cubby two metres tall by one and a half wide and then fallen asleep in it, so maybe it’s not impossible.

Sex in a little cubby. This alt text is sort of redundant, really.
Baby, I can see your halo.
You know you’re my saving grace…

To the film’s (and the actors’) credit, the sex here is pretty good. It’s certainly energetic, with lots of bounce. Borresch might have this sort of semi-inane, semi-manic grin on his face throughout, but Janson is giving a good performance, even throwing out some piercing softcore moans (a departure from the norm, since Surrender hardly ever used anything except music for their sex scenes) at points. Throughout one shot, she even appears to be artistically lit, which probably isn’t intentional but I’m going to pretend it is.

The scene could end when Marion bumps her head on the roof, but it doesn’t. She shakes it off, smiles and then just carries on shagging. Good for you, honey.

The entire thing is underscored (as is the whole scene, including the bits in the cockpit with the crew) with some electronic thrash metal, which I suppose is meant to indicate the hazardous landing, but it works quite well for the sex too. It’s not exactly in time with it, but then it doesn’t really need to be. Since the sex lasts about fifteen seconds, anything else would be jarring.

But then that’s the other thing: fifteen seconds. If that.

I wonder how long these alt text boxes are. They may well last forever. At some point I intend to find out.
Marion has just hit her head and is recovering from something she really should have foreseen.

On paper, this all sounds good. The “busy workers oblivious to people having sex nearby” trope is certainly one of my favourites, and it helps that this whole setup establishes some of the characters and basic scene. Janson herself is incredibly pretty, and she’s certainly thrown herself into this rôle (I could give or take Borresch, but Jeetz is one of only two male characters in this, so I’ll allow it).

What it doesn’t excuse is how brief this is. It’s even the longest sex scene in the film, given its propensity for more inoffensive nudity and sex implication as the machine trundles along.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa hey, this really does go on forever aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Do you ever dance with the devil in the pale moonlight?

I’ll point this out here and now, though. I’m being unfair. I bought this DVD on the assumption that it would be a full-on softcore flick on account of the fact that it’s called Femalien and it’s by the same company. There’s no indication that it would have been one otherwise. It really shouldn’t be called that – Cosmic Crush on its own would have done. But it doesn’t advertise itself as softcore, being as it is one of the Deadly Ten.

I’m not owed, in my hubris, any sex scene that I just assumed would be there. And I suppose, essentially, that I’ve learned a lesson here.

I’m just not sure what it is, that’s all.

Hard Porn Tuesday

It had been a difficult week. Illnesses, money worries, body image and projects that only get finished at the last minute. Yesterday afternoon was a hodgepodge of excitement and exhaustion. I couldn’t focus; I couldn’t think. Time for porn.

I opened VLC and started browsing the folder I’ve helpfully named “Don’t Look Here!”. What should I watch? All my favourite scenes were there in alphabetical order. It shouldn’t have been difficult to choose one – specifically since I hadn’t had an orgasm in about a week and now had a couple of hours to kill. My finger hovered over the Shannan-Leigh-in-Andromina scene and…

…and…

The problem with this was that, for the last two weeks, I’d mostly been eschewing softcore in favour of harder stuff. It was easier (and more unfamiliar, which made it better, since I love discovering new stuff) to spend a while on Chaturbate than it was to spool through the several-hundred-strong scene count I’ve got on my HD and/or my Discs of Wonder.™

I’d even started delving into the murky depths of genuine hardcore porn. I’ve always been fond of Laura Angel, but right now I’m a bit of a fan of cute, nerdy starlet Leana Lovings (although that’s Emma‘s fault, so blame her); in fact, I’ve even invented a new mark to put in my diary when it’s Leana I’ve been watching when I come. (Is that creepy? I think it’s creepy. I don’t know… I just don’t…!)

Yesterday afternoon, however, I waivered. I’d just come home from a rather intense job interview, during which I slipped and fell in some mud (before doing the entire interview with my brand new suit and coat covered in it (and still managed to get the job!)). My entire intention was to work off all the stress of February with softcore, and yet ILB of February hadn’t been watching softcore.

What had I become?

Okay, fine, I thought. I’ve got time. I’ll watch a few things. I opened some tabs, and then closed them again. I cued up a few videos, and then hit pause almost immediately.

Flappy ILB is not good ILB. My brain was shattered into little pieces, my heart was pounding, my memory spinning, and worst of all, my penis was rock hard and I wasn’t doing anything about it, which was my intention when sitting at my computer to begin with!

In the end, I chose a scene completely at random. No skipping, no closing it after the good bit, no cinematographic criticism in my head. Just a scene. I just needed to watch a scene – good old clean, glossy soft porn. My gateway drug and my first great love.

And I had the biggest orgasm I’ve had in weeks the instant the scene ended.

There’s a lesson here somewhere. If only I could work out what it is…

Pornception

For the past couple of weeks, and (more specifically) when I’m taking quiet moments to try to fight off the remnants of COVID-19 by virtue of such remedies as “sleep”, I’ve had one specific sex scene in my head.

Ondrea reclines on a table while having sex with Alvin.
Genuinely didn’t take me long to find this.

It’s one of my favourites, for sure, although for some reason I’ve never really mentioned it on my blog… I probably will at some point. It’s hot, anyway, it’s quick to start, it’s quite long, and it’s got Amber Newman in it. But this post isn’t about that. Unless you want to wank, in which case I would recommend. I mean, I had my first wank in weeks to this scene and I came so hard that I managed to hit my shoulder.

Where was I?

Oh, yes. Well, I’ve talked before about how my daytime dreams tend to be more sexual than my night-time ones, for sure, but I’m not sure what I was doing during COVID-19 recovery could really be counted as “dreaming”. Most of the time, I wasn’t even asleep. Just… lying there. In all the pain and the discomfort and with the hideous scent I still have somewhere in my nose. COVID is boring, and at the end of the day, all I was doing was staying still, thinking about how I had COVID.

If I did fall asleep, it would be a fitful slumber. More than likely, I’d cough myself awake at some point, or suddenly need to vomit or drink or something, and I wouldn’t get the rest I needed…

…but just once…

I was surrounded by darkness. To say that I was in a dark room or a dark hallway wouldn’t be an accurate description of where I was – nor was I floating somewhere in the dark. I just had no other surroundings. There was one focal point of my dream and everything else did not exist. I could only see one thing, and that was my point.

Dreamy ILB was staring – not looking, staring – at a screen which was (somehow, I’m not sure how) in front of him. On the screen was a video (maybe a stream?) of another screen, close enough to the camera to see that this was, in turn, showing a third screen… and on this screen, clear as day, was a high-resolution, DVD-quality capture of that one very scene, both Amber Newman and Brian Heidik doing their thing. It’s all that I remember – the music, the disrobing, the sex.

Dreamy ILB got that swoopy feeling in his stomach that Normal ILB gets when he’s about to watch something that’ll make him come. Normal ILB, at that point, of course woke up – tearing him away from the scene he loves, throwing him back into his dark, empty bedroom and underneath the tangle of sheets he’d been using as a duvet replacement.

I lay there panting for a few moments. Time check – four in the afternoon. Okay, sure. Body check – still full of COVID. Do I need a drink? No. Toilet? No. Food? No – I keep bringing up whatever I eat. So why do I feel different?

And then I realise that I’m hard. Wait, no, not just hard – very hard. In fact, I think I’m more aroused than I’ve been all year. I’ve managed to turn myself on by having a dream about a stereoscopic view of a scene I’ve been watching regularly since the age of 18.

So what do I do now? I certainly can’t pleasure myself. I barely have the energy to breathe. Moving my hand would be completely beyond my capabilities.

With a Herculean effort, I roll over onto my side…

…I throw my stronger hand over my chest and drag it, finger, by finger, down my stomach…

…and I wrap my fingers around my shaft, feeling how hard it is, feeling it pulse and throb…

…and I go back to sleep.

Soft Porn Sunday: Angelica “Venus” Costello & Burke Morgan

When Channel 5 launched in 1997, it quickly gained a reputation as “the porn channel”, even though it didn’t really show anything that could be broadly categorised as porn. It did show, on Friday evenings, the occasional erotic thriller (which teenage ILB translated as “plot with sex”) or erotic drama (“less plot, more sex”), usually carrying nothing more than a two-star rating.

A lovely vista of a city with two naked people blocking the view.
Is this what counts as censorship in 2004?

It stopped doing so after five years. Had it not, it would have shown this, hands down.

Appearance: Passionate Encounters (2004)
Characters: Cassandra & Doctor Jenkins

So, here’s the tea. Passionate Encounters is billed as a drama, but we all know what it really is. The female character Cassandra is played by hardcore porn star Venus; Jenkins by softcore stalwart Burke Morgan (although in this case he isn’t playing the ‘slightly older non-sexual thingy’ that Surrender had him booked for in the early ’00s). There is, in fact, a plot: two psychologists start an experiment… which is meant to explore various people’s behaviour towards each other.

It soon turns to… okay, I don’t need to finish this sentence, do I?

The first thing that I need to talk about here is Burke Morgan. I’m aware of his work in Virgins of Sherwood Forest (in which he plays the viceroy) and Dungeon of Desire (in which he plays the wizard Marcus). I’m also aware that he’s in Friend of the Family and Scandal! On the Other Side (and LA 7 with S Club), but as things stand, up until this point I can’t really recall seeing him have sex.

Here, he presents as being in possession of a short, stubbly goatee (black with grey streaks)… and a mullet.

The scene takes place he has a mullet in an apartment he has a mullet with a city-scape outside he has a mullet at night he has a mullet with beautiful, younger girl he has a mullet Cassandra he has a mullet (played by he has a mullet Venus). He does appear to be markedly older than her, but maybe that is the point – Dr Jenkins is a clever professor, after all – and it doesn’t make a lot of difference to the proceedings, either.

Half-naked girl with cityscape behind her, plus mulleted grey idiot.
Did the camera operator faint? This is at a weird angle.

We start with classic softcore disrobing, although to the scene’s credit most of Cassandra’s clothes come of after Jenkins has started licking her out. There’s actually quite a lot of soft porn cunnilingus here, actually, accounting for a quarter of the scene, and it’s not badly done, either: Venus is making all sorts of noises, and it has a sort of “I must lick, now, right now” urgency (I feel you, doc) that I like. Waste no time, start with the pleasure. Impressive.

At 01:16 we mix to a different shot, and this is initially of Cassandra just bouncing up and down (making the same noises she was making in the previous shot!). This is sex, clearly – and yes, we cut to a wider shot of sex – bouncy sitting position sort of sex – on a sofa with the city twinkling behind them.

Half-naked girl in front of a brown curtain atop a grey idiot.
That’s either a brown curtain behind them or abstract photography. Either’s fine, really.

A note on the city, then: this is the backdrop for the entire scene. It’s remarkably simple – lights of an urban area at night – but it works, insofar as highlighting the grandeur of the place in which their warm room is a tine part and offsetting their cosy arrangement with a bustling metropolis that never sleeps. It’s a remarkable piece of mise-en-scène that I’m fairly sure I’m the only one to have noticed. Nice to see these things.

Anyway, is there sex still happening? Ah, there it is.

There is a fair amount of energy in the scene, as well – even if there isn’t a lot of variation in the sex position. There’s quite a lot of bounce – standard bump’n’grind – but Venus’ facial expressions and constant soundtrack underline how much fun Cassandra is having. Jenkins he has a mullet isn’t seen much, but when he is, he appears a little overwhelmed, maybe by the sex itself, or the beauty of the lady he’s having it with, or how his hairpiece went out of style two decades earlier. It’s good acting, anyway, and done with adequate amounts of enthusiasm.

Massive head, grey beard, mullet.
Welcome, watchers. Pause a while, for here’s adventure, dungeon style…

At 04:43 there is an interesting up-close bum shot. It’s a transition between sex positions, but it’s very close and very apparent for about a second. Thought I’d mention that.

Cassandra spends the rest of the scene riding Jenkins in the more classic front-on “cowgirl” astride position. As with before, there are plenty of noises, a fair amount of bouncy energy, and of course plenty of skin (by now she has fully disrobed, so we get boobs as well).

And then they kiss, which is kind of gross, before a pan to the city through the window once more… and fade out.

So, the big question: do I like this scene? Well, sort of. I like the set-up well enough, and the aforementioned urgency leading to the fun energetic sex make for a good scene. Both characters are clearly enjoying themselves here, and the fact that they’re not doing anything other than enjoying themselves also helps. Sex is presented here as just a break from doing anything else… AS IT SHOULD BE!

Beautiful woman in profile.
Venus is hella pretty, so here she is, in all her glory.

A special note goes to the soundtrack. As I’ve mentioned before, Venus moans a lot, and you can even hear their bodies slapping together (making the dull thud, you know the one). There’s a piece of music undercutting the whole scene, which is reminiscent of both other softcore scenes from the period and video game boss fights, but it’s at no point intrusive or distracting.

In fact, the only thing (other than Burke Morgan, who has a mullet) this scene does for which it can’t be reasonably excused is go on for too long. The whole thing is more than seven minutes and comprises of oral sex, riding in one position and then riding in another position. In real life this wouldn’t be wildly unrealistic; in soft porn, however, it genuinely seems like too little variation in too much time. It’s odd, and although genuinely hot, it does kind of drag after the first five minutes.

This is good; can you do something different, please?

ILB’s Brain at 05:13

Having said that, there’s nothing too wrong with this. Morgan, who does seem very old here, is okay, and Venus is gorgeous, so it’s easy on the eye… and, as I’ve mentioned, the contrast between the warm room and the dark city outside adds a bit more depth and dimension that there otherwise would be.

There could just be a little more done in a little less time, really, and due to the fact that I’m a big fan of longer scenes, that genuinely is saying something!

With thanks to friendly reader SA, who recommended the scene to me.

[REC]

Throughout my teenage years most of the glossy smut I used to consume came courtesy of my gran’s Cable TV package. She was very much into sports, so most of the channels she watched weren’t to my particular taste, but after hours, I used to indulge – when I could – in whatever was on L!VE, UK Living, Bravo, or even Sci-Fi (although Sci-Fi also showed Knightmare for a while, so I was well-acquainted with them).

Channel Five changed everything.

With terrestrial new kids on the block – and those who actually showed soft porn, no less – actually recording some suddenly became an option. It was impossible to do on cable (and I never quite realised why), digital encoding was years away, and I had plenty of blank VHSs to exploit. While the softcore shown on Friday nights was of varying quality – the original Emmanuelle was good; Buford’s Beach Bunnies… less so – the fact that I could actually use magnetic storage to obtain these films (and, hypothetically therefore, watch them at my leisure) was something new.

New and exciting.

While I remember the first time I recorded something – it was called Lap Dancer and didn’t have nearly enough sex in it – the thing I remember the most, of course, was… destroying the tape.

Although I was diligent in committing to magnetic storage a lot of the flicks I liked, at this point I was going through my “porn is wrong and I’m watching it so I must be a pervert” stage. Practically every week I would give up, and as a result I’d tape over whatever I’d taped with an afternoon of CITV or something – assuring myself that I was now cleansed, and never would watch any ever again.

And then I’d record more the following Friday.

Things came to a head the week after recording Rosie Dixon: Night Nurse. Feeling appalling every time I saw the tape (labelled “Muttley” since I’d originally been intending to use it for Wacky Races), in the end I decided I needed to get rid of the VHS, thus spiritually cleansing myself and rendering myself unable to do it again (without stealing one of my parents’ VHSs, and they all had something on them). In the end, I went to my mortal enemy Stu, who – despite hating me – also knew a lot about destruction.

Using one of Stu’s methods, I managed to lever open the cassette, pull the tape out and snap it in half, and then – for good measure – stashed the remains in the tiny alleyway that ran by the side of the house, in a drain. Hopefully, I told myself, the rain and run-off from the pipe will finish it off. And I’ll never do that again.

I wasn’t wrong, on this occasion. I didn’t do so again. I discovered downloading soon afterwards.

But it didn’t stop, on one occasion, a distraught, horny teen ILB, standing in the rainy, wet alleyway trying to find a way to repair the tape he had so artfully destroyed.

Zounds, I can be so desperate sometimes.

Eighteen

I’ve been to the cinema a lot recently and, although I have yet to see an 18-rated film, I will doubtlessly be seeing one at some point, possessed as I am of a girlfriend who has an unhealthy obsession with horror. They mentioned, yesterday, as the 15 came up for the second film we watched, that they still feel a sort of naughty thrill at seeing a 15-rated film, even at the age of thirty.

I’m thirty-six and I still get that with 18s, mostly on DVD.

I have a complicated relationship with the BBFC rating system due to the fact that my mother was so stringent. My dad was a little more lax with what I was allowed to watch – I didn’t want to watch anything more than PG until I was about 15 myself anyway, so it was probably easy – but my mother was both nervous and worried about anything more than a 12, pulling us all into the lounge to have an hour-long talk about the ethical considerations of taking me to see Shakespeare in Love at the age of 14.

And then we have porn.

I started ordering porn – if you can call it that – at seventeen. I was underage, and I’m aware of that, but I had my Visa Electron card and an Amazon account. Amazon, in those days, had a “video erotica” section (now sadly lost) with a surprisingly varied collection of VHS titles… all rated 18, of course. Ordering one – even one as pedestrian as Emmanuelle: Queen of the Galaxy – gave me a curious feeling somewhere between excitement and guilt. I was doing something I could, obviously, but something I shouldn’t.

It was probably illegal. I mean, I don’t know, but it probably was.

Anyway.

When I got to university I ordered a lot more. I didn’t have a DVD player before, but my new laptop had one, so I could hit up Amazon for softcore basically whenever I wanted. In my first year I even paid money to sign up to a site where you could download individual scenes (which now seems passé – don’t move so fast, technology!). I still felt incredibly guilty, and when they arrived at the university hall postbox, I basically smuggled the goods up to my room as if I was doing something illicit. Even if they were in cardboard packaging.

I got to the age of about twenty when I realised that I was, in fact, well over the age of eighteen and, in fact, was not doing anything wrong, nor anything I wasn’t allowed to do. Indeed I was paying for the porn I was watching, which isn’t the wrong thing to do at all!

But I still felt like I wasn’t doing the right thing. Going back home at the age of twenty-one with a growing collection of softcore DVDs, plus a case full of Discs of Wonder (all hidden inside a D&D box), made me feel like a wretch. I knew my parents wouldn’t approve, and was readying myself for the conversation when it hit me.

They don’t need to know.

And then came

You’re 21. You’re well over 18. You’re allowed to buy porn and you’ve been allowed to do so for three years now.

Yet I still feel odd even considering doing so. It’s helpful, therefore, that I have a collection.

Soft Porn Sunday: Pristine Edge & Ryan McLane

One does have to wonder, at points, how creative types get their ideas. Consider, for example, the lead actress in this scene, and why the words “Pristine Edge” were her chosen moniker. The title certainly works, but as for how she came up with it, I’m not sure.

The same can be said for the production company behind Vixens from Venus (Retromedia Entertainment), who clearly thought they had a winner with this plot.

Stand back! I'm going to attempt science!
Look at all those gadgets! Do you see? SCIENCE!

Venusians Zonondor, Zorax and Zimbabwe (couldn’t they have chosen a name which wasn’t already the name of something else?) beam down to Earth and temporarily take the bodies of sexy young women Felicity, Piper and Violet respectively. They are greeted by three of “Earth’s top scientists” – Doctors Edwards, Grayson and Kline (plus their assistant Charlie) – whose intention is to study them.

The Venusians’ aim is to escape any information about them getting out, in an attempt to preserve their utopian society. Quite how they know it’s a utopia I’m not entirely sure, since I’m fairly certain Utopia did not have a print run on Venus, but then there are more pressing matters, such as why they speak English.

Or why they came down in the first place.

Or why they feel they need to have sex to rob the scientists’ memories.

Or where Zimbabwe went. She’s by far the most attractive character in this and she’s hardly in it.

But let’s not worry about that.

Appearance: Vixens from Venus (2016)
Characters: Dr. Kline & Dr. Grayson

Grayson and Kline appear to be romantically involved.

Felicity / Zonondor

Zonondor has a delicate way of putting things, it seems, since she’s just walked in on Grayson and Kline having sex on a table.

As it turns out, the Venusians need to sleep with all three scientists in order to complete their mission. Doctors Grayson and Kline are engaged (although neither of them is wearing a ring – tisk, tisk), and after their colleague Edwards has been incapacitated (after foolishly sleeping with Zonondor), they decide that the best way to let off steam is to fuck on top of the sanitised table in their study room. This they do.

Twice.

Before the plot moves on, really. This is, of course, a Retromedia Entertainment trope – overlong sex scenes with very attractive people with a plot set around them – the problem being that by this point I was invested in said plot, so there wasn’t a reason not to spool through them! Aaaaargh!

Ahem. As I was saying.

Nudity! Sexytimes! SCIENCE!
The thingy on the right is a teleportation device, complete with… bowling pins?

So. This scene takes place in a lab, by which I mean a set which has illuminated screens which show very little, gadgets that don’t do anything but beep and blink, and what look like 1950s-era sound reel-to-reel tape players. At the very least it doesn’t take long for the doctors to disrobe… because it all happens in a mix cut. There’s a brief kiss and then an immediate mix to Grayson giving Kline oral sex. No time wasted there. Very efficient scientists, clearly.

I’ve mentioned how lengthy the scenes are, and this is a bit of a problem. As attractive as Pristine Edge might be (and she is, she’s absolutely stunning), watching her get eaten out for over a minute and a half seems to slow time down a little. There isn’t really any variation in the position it happens, nor in her reaction, nor in McLane’s “half-a-face” expression. It’s just naked Kline on a table for a length of time which could be a whole scene on its own.

Smile while your brain is breaking...
One of Edge’s facial expressions… oh, and a chair, for whatever reason.

There is an interesting cut to the Venusians discussing their plan in the middle of the scene, which provides a refreshing break (and a glimpse of Dillion Harper as Violet/Zimbabwe, which definitely kept me interested), and when we cut back, Grayson and Kline are now having penetrative sex. It’s quite a clever way to show a shift (in location as well as activity; they’re now on the opposite side of the table, yes I do notice these details shut up). It’s fairly energetic and regularly bouncy, and although this also lasts for a long time, the regular cuts between different angles, quick pace of the sex and Edge’s range of naughty facial expressions (she does a good open-mouthed smile thing which I recognise from actual sex) helps keep the momentum up.

There are even some moments which your average sex scene wouldn’t consider. They look into each other’s eyes and at one point attempt a messy kiss. It’s not a romantic scene, but if you really try, you can almost imagine they’re a real couple.

Almost.

After a while, Zonondor walks in, watches for a bit, and then smiles and exits. Fantastic – voyeurism. Let’s add that to the list of social issues this film has.

This is what Zonondor sees. His washboard stomach is putting me off, somewhat.

What you can’t see (or hear) is that, throughout this entire scene, there is a strange pop track playing… with vocals. The lyrics aren’t very inspired (choice cuts include “I need your love” and “I want your love), but the track also includes various orgasm noises at points. They aren’t at all related to what’s going on on screen, which throws off the rhythm somewhat. Plus, if I’m listening to the lyrics, how am I meant to be enjoying the sex? There’s only one of me!

The main thing, however, is that throughout this scene, and the successive one and the one after that (and one later in the movie), all of which feature Pristine Edge, she is genuinely the one carrying the weight. Throughout the film, she neither looks nor acts like a scientist, but she gives every performance her absolute all – her facial expressions (whether lustful, cunning, or pleasantly vacant once she has been incapacitated), the way she moves her body, her cute little nose piercing and famous “four hearts” tattoo. She is fantastic at what she does, and despite the fact that the script does nothing for her character except gets her naked, she really brings the performance to life.

The best thing about this flick.
This isn’t Pristine Edge, but I think Dillion Harper is beautiful, so I’m putting this here.

I have an issue with Vixens from Venus, insofar as the message it gets across. It has some very questionable ethics behind it in terms of gender rôle, social class, race division and a wholly unnecessary method employed by the aliens (and one scene which could be considered sex without consent), and – essentially – a plot which, look good as it may on paper, is sort of forgotten about in the second half.

So I do have to say, essentially… yeah, the sex is good, but just… just… don’t.

It’ll Never Work

Why won’t this work?

It could apply to either thing, really. First of all, my CD drive won’t work. I have, in all fairness, had this for a while. It certainly opens well enough, but then there’s the matter of the fact that it’s not reading the CD-R I’ve put into it.

Maybe it’s a problem with the CD-R. I went through labelling them all a month or so back, and this one says “this disc is temperamental”. But it’s not just not reading – it doesn’t appear to exist. My computer isn’t detecting a drive at all.

Maybe it’s not plugged in properly.

I fiddle with wires. Eventually the drive groans into life.

I’m looking for something specific, but I’m not even sure if I have it. Disc after disc go in and out of my drive. Scene after scene scroll past my eyes, flickering like a peepshow. What am I looking for? Is this it? What even is this?

Why won’t this work?

I was hard even before I started watching the scenes. Minutes pass, and this becomes less of a scavenger hunt than a mission of arousal. My body is crying; every part of me screams for release.

It’s too early to be horny, I tell myself. But then I can’t control what my body wants. And I’m haaaaaard.

So why won’t this work? These are carefully curated scenes. They’ve always worked before. My hand knows what to do. But something is disconnected here – it’s not working. If I can’t find what I’m looking for, then I may as well satisfy myself in another way, and if I can’t satisfy myself that way, then what am I achieving here?

Maybe I should just give up. Put on some clothes, get myself a drink and walk to the cinema to see Jungle Cruise.

Google Chrome is still open, I notice. What site was I browsing before this? Click.

Oh…

Something sparks in the back of my brain. I close my eyes and let my imagination take over.

And that works. Almost immediately.

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