Having noticed that the Faye Reagan clip that I posted a while back is as popular with readers as it is with me, I thought it time to post some more. So, here she is... Faye Reagan wants your cum brought to you by RedTube - Home of free porn videos. Faye Reagan was born September 19, 1988 in Las Vegas, Nevada, and was originally working under the name Faye Valentine. Smut hunters first became truly aware of her when she appeared in Hustler's Barely Legal Volume 81 DVD. Her official biography can be found here, but you maybe get a better feel for her just from watching her perform.
Faye is the nasty girl of your dreams, in the best way imaginable. Above, listen to her response when her lover snatches his dick away; and below, just watch her expression, and the look in her eyes. There' a lot of hot and sassy man-eaters in mainstream porn these days, but few that are just so damned natural. Plus, she has an appetite for cum that leaves the best of us in the shade. She was elected one of Adult Video News's four "Fresh New Faces" cover girls in May 2008 and, the following month, she appeared at the 12th annual Erotic LA convention at the Los Angeles Convention Center. She also appeared in a print ad for American Apparel in mid-2008, under the name of Jillian. In 2009 she received two nominations for Best New Starlet, from both AVN and XRCO, and the following year she modeled for New York streetwear label Married to the Mob's 2010 summer collection. She also appears in Married to the Mob’s 2010 fashion video. Her porn breakthrough came with her starring role in Vince Vouyer's three-disc The Gauntlet 3, a series of scenes that gave her gag reflex a fantastic work-out; according to AVN she had barely twenty prior scenes to her name, but you would never know it. Since then, the adultfilmdatebase has credited her with over 150 DVD appearances, most of them in the realms of both straight and lesbian compilations and thematic discs. She was especially great in Zero Tolerance's Downtown Girls, but I've yet to see a Faye Reagan scene that isn't a 150% turn-on.
You can also catch her in the celebrity sex parody TMSleaze, playing a better-than-real Lindsay Lohan, and there are a few minor acting roles to look out for too - the Office and Partridge Family parodies. Personally, I'd like to see her in title role of my own Naughty Miranda... in terms of looks and bearing, nobody else comes close to my ideal.
"Allison Williams of WVEC Channel 13 "And to conclude todays offerings .... yet another american TV girl Allison Williams of WVEC Channel 13 in Norfolk, Virginia, (Note, this is not a beauty queen of the same name) was filmed pleasuring herself and a camerman in the news truck ..... then she ain't no news girl no more.
"Note: it has been pointed out that a Ms Williams who was a beauty queen and whom has also been linked incorrectly with the picture strongly denies that its her on the video ......" As this story makes clear. This other Alison Williams entirely, the beauty queen who looked nothing like the girl in the film, somehow became confused in the popular imagination with her naughty namesake... so she sued. As you can also read in this one. And, apparently (and deservedly), she won. To the tune of $7.2 million.
But what about the beauty who actually did make the movie?
The one who is discussed (and named) here? And here.
The intrinsic novelty of a waterproof book notwithstanding, one does wonder what precise point is being made by a waterproof erotic book? Yes, you can read it in the bath or the hot tub, and it’s easy to wipe the occasional spillage from the pages. But really, isn’t a waterproof book about sex a bit like a fire-proof book about architecture? There is a link, but….
includes LOVE ON THE BATTLEFIELD by Chrissie Bentley
Review Winner of Jade Erotic Awards: Erotic Fiction Publisher 2010 "Xcite has delighted its readers with a wealth of superb titles and first class storytelling. Its titles have far outstripped the others for both quality of the product and sensual erotic content."
Product Description If a commanding man or imperious woman dressed in a smart uniform makes your heart tick faster, these 20 original stories exploring the sensual delights of uniforms, both for the wearer and the admirer, are guaranteed to seize your attention. Whether it is the smartness and authority of military dress, the sassy temptations of a naughty maid, or the possibilities offered by a policewoman, arousing descriptions and unabashed accounts of kinky sexual encounters await!
He spoke again. “I was just wondering; how much blood am I actually meant to be losing here?”
I looked down. The bottle was half empty. “Oh, just a couple of pints for now, but it’ll keep coming. You’ll probably be dead by the end of the day.” I paused as my eyes travelled down his body. “Although, I’m wondering if your wound is the only thing that’s draining it?”
I saw his eyes follow mine, and his face turned as scarlet as the blood. Straining against the fabric of his red-stained longjohns, a fat, one-eyed helmet peeking over the edge of the cotton waistband, he was nursing the biggest hard-on I’d seen in years – and certainly the biggest that I’d never even noticed.
He spluttered an apology, but I put my fingers to his lips. “Don’t try to speak. You’re dangerously weak and any unnecessary exertion could easily finish you off.” I lay the palm of my hand an inch or so over the bulge, could feel the heat radiating out of it. “Massive blood loss. Dangerously overheated. I have to try and find a way of staunching the flow.”
Gently, I pulled his underpants away, and his cock leaped to attention, as fat as that first glimpse had promised, and – as my friend Lisa sometimes liked to say, “long enough to tickle your tonsils.” I looked around – the tent was still empty, and the only voices in earshot sounded some way away. “Everyone’s off with the fighting. This tent’s more for show,” I mused. “All the other casualties will be down there, with Dr Ronstadt.”
“Lucky for me,” he smiled, and I grinned back. “Lucky for me, as well.” I stroked his cock, and squeezed as it twitched in response. “Civil War medicine is usually so boring.”
My hand was tight around him, squeezing and easing the pressure of my grip, but never doing more than that. The thought of somebody wandering past and seeing us was alive in my mind, but that was only a part of it. I just wanted to savor the moment… squeeze and release… squeeze and release… squeeze and release.
He reached a hand up to touch my breasts, but I stepped to one side, just out of reach. “Maybe when you’re feeling better.” Squeeze.
“I’m feeling pretty good right now.”
Release. “So you say.” Squeeze. “But I say there’s still room for improvement.” Release. My hand relaxed and, where once I had gripped him firmly in my fist, now the lightest of fingers cradled him. “Definitely room for improvement.”
Squeeze… and the faintest bubble of moisture appeared from the slit at the tip. Release; and I pressed my thumb against the droplet, smeared it roughly over his helmet. I glanced over and saw his eyes fixed on mine, their expectant glitter begging me to lean forward, to take him in my mouth. I wanted to as well, but I resisted the temptation. For now. Rather, I watched him watching me, then heard him moan slightly as my hand jerked up suddenly, milking the pre-cum from deep within.
Then, with the end of his cock now glistening with moisture, I leaned forward, to blow gently onto the crest. He gasped, and I looked across at him. He really did have beautiful eyes.
“Is everything okay?” I asked. “Do you have everything you need?”
“I need to be inside you. I want to feel myself inside you… inside your mouth.”
continuing an occasional series looking back at the greatest XXX films ever made... the CLIT-erion collection of adult jewels, unsung gems and stone-cold-crazy cunt cult classics.
There are probably (well, definitely) more absurd premises for a triple X movie than that which ignites Above The Knee. But in terms of prolonging the inevitable for as long as possible, the story of a dreamer who awakens his wife by screaming her best friend’s name, but without the satisfaction of actually dreaming anything to merit that response, is definitely one of the most peculiar.
Marc Wallice is the long-suffering, but implausibly dimwitted Luke - a man, incidentally, who seems to keep his briefs on even while having sex; Rebecca Bardoux is his blindingly naive newlywed wife Julie, and Tera Heart is the calculating Claudia, the girlfriend who haunts his nights, a buxom temptress who will permit him to do whatever he likes to her. Provided he doesn’t move above her knee. Oh, and just to confuse things further, Luke and Claudia hate one another.
It’s an oddly understated movie, Ariel Hart’s script seeming wordier than many movies twice the length of this one, while director Toni English is certainly shooting with one eye on the softcore erotica audience, even while laying some unabashed hardcore on your eyes. The oral scenes are clearly a favorite of cast and crew alike, but there’s a tastefulness at large that will really piss off the cum-in-her-eye and spit-up-her-ass class of viewer.
Even better, not one of the cast gets caught up in the monosyllablism that is the lot of so many porn actresses, meaning here’s a movie you can watch with the sound up, and still convince your neighbors that you’re watching HBO. Plus, you can’t shake the sense that the cast are playing as much for their own laughs as anybody else’s beginning with a delightfully over-scripted bridal shower featuring Julie, Claudia and a deliciously conspiratorial friend, Danielle (Kaitlyn Ashley).
Later, Dani and Claudia lure one of Luke’s pool pals (Tom Byron) into an intriguing game of Blind Man’s Bluff. And, as things move on, we see people we’ve not even met getting down - a scene intended partially to allow Luke another look at Claudia’s knee (which really isn’t that special, to be truthful), but also to introduce a beautifully fucked-up blonde (Debi Diamond) to the mix, who devotes her lunch hour to blowing three guys she’s never met, and taking it up the ass from one of them. “Better be off, my break’s over,’ she shrugs as she wipes one load or another off her face, and that certainly brings a new dimension to the concept of late night convenience stores.
Of course, Above The Knee ends much as you’d expect... or maybe not, depending on your own penchant for patellas, and although you can’t help thinking that a few more plot twists would have helped things along, Above The Knee is not so below the belt that you wouldn’t want to watch it again.
If there was any justice in this world, Bonnie and Clyde: Outlaws Of Love would be hanging around the upper echelons of everyone’s Top-Whatever XXX movies, a reminder not only of the days when adult movies were toying with mainstream sensibilities (which actually ended almost twenty years before this film was made... but you get the picture); but also of the rare occasions when they succeeded in their aspirations. Instead, Paul Thomas’ most ambitious production since Sinderella hangs around the under-$10 bins at Excalibur and elsewhere, a buck ninety-nine for a movie that isn’t simply well-paced and well-shot. It’s also shit-hot super-heated with a cast that clatters through the hoary old legend with a passion for poontang (as Clyde Barrow would put it) that leaves even the familiar fable at the starting post.
The casting is spot on. Randy West is a classy Clyde, Ashlyn Gere a believable Bonnie. Other characters, the family, friends and Feds who pursue them, are painted with at least enough depth to make you care about what they’re doing here, and that includes Thelma (the late Alex Jordan), the blonde of dubious repute who Clyde convinces (with a crate of kneehigh) to seduce a couple of cops (Jonathan Morgan, Tom Chapman) who seem to be hot on the trail. It’s a small role but an important one, and she gets a good spitting as a bonus. Plus a scorching slo-mo blo-jo scene that would put the most devoted cop off his stride.
Several of the sex scenes have apparently been trimmed down from the original VHS release which, as the review on fapzap.com reminds us, is a shame. Yes, there should “be a law against shortening any scene with Racquel Darrien in it?” But that really only affects the movie if you happen to have the VHS release already burned into your memory banks. Great period costuming, sharp dialog and accents and a keen eye for props (Bonnie’s cigarette holder is a joy to behold) are the elements that stand out in the movie, and the hardcore is imaginative without being absurd.
But there’s something else that you don’t really realize you’ve missed in other movies until you see it done so well here. The characters remain in character; when Clyde goes down on Bonnie by the side of the road, she remembers to call out his name when she cums.
There’s a human angle, too. With the bandits hooking up and hiding out with roadside pump owner Zeke (Derrick Lane) and his wife Sissy (Racquel Darrien), we know Bonnie will sooner rather than later. But the bonding and seduction last as long as the sex, and there’s a grace and bearing to that as well, a lifelike lust that conjures the reality of passion, as opposed to the mechanical mating that we’ve all grown so adept at fast forwarding through in modern movies.
Sissy sucks cock like it’s going out of fashion, but she doesn’t need to grandstand cos she already knows how good she looks; and Bonnie has to rate among the most predatory fucks that any skinflick could hope to unearth. Even on her knees being doggied till her legs give way, her expression says she’s on top, and blowing her boy toy out in bubbles.
Oh, and a soundtrack that rifles through a veritable library of orchestral classics raises a smile as well. Dispensing with a lot of the jazz-lite junk that disfigured the old VHS release, the DVD hooks into something classier - and Beethoven’s Ninth gets its greatest work-put since the days of Clockwork Orange.
Enough, too, is left unsaid that its clear that the director and writer want the viewer to actually think about events, as opposed to tolerating the plot as they wait for the next round of raunchiness; news of the capture of the rest of the Barrow gang is delivered by radio and just a few moments of footage, and Clyde’s response played out with as much irrational passion as it ought to be. And even better, the movie has a happy ending... despite an finale that suggest the outlaw duo’s ultimate demise was down to them hanging out with Zeke and Sissy for one final round of wife swapping, rather than hitting the road while they had the chance.
Close to a year has passed since I posted what remains one of my favorite erotic shorts ever, Erika Lust's Handcuffs - but now Ms Lust is back with a follow-up... which you can watch for free at, Room 33.
Less immediately explicit than Handcuffs, but no less arousing, Room 33 is a single part of the Hotel, a six-part/six director movie shot in one day at one location, the Camper Hotel in Barcelona. The entire 48 minute film is also available on the site. Enjoy!
Win my undying admiration and, in 250 words or less, tell the world what you think could be going on here. A cowgirl smoking on a rocking horse, a stripey pink pole, and the cast of French TV's Le Manège enchanté... Zebulon, Pollux and Margote. And remember, s'il vous plait... Zebulon has a spring. BOING.....
includes PICTURES OF LILLY by Chrissie Bentley Product Details Paperback: 256 pages Publisher: Cleis Press (December 1, 2010) Language: English ISBN-10: 1573444235 ISBN-13: 978-1573444231
Product Description Best Women’s Erotica 2011 delivers risky, romantic, and heart-pounding thrills. Joyful, daring, and authentic, these steamy stories revel in erotic adventure, from the sparks between strangers to the knowing caresses of long-time lovers. These stories are not merely erotic, but filled with strong characters and clever narratives showing a wide variety of sexual expression. Violet Blue's newest anthology is a glorious celebration of the finest and friskiest female erotic fiction today.
From the Author This 2011 edition of Best Women's Erotica is stylish, coy, slick with gloss, and stiletto-sharp. Stories sent to me when I post a "call for submissions" arrive in the hundreds from all over the world, but in my ten years of editing erotica, the stories always tell me what's going on out there in women's heads about sex.
This year every single story is layered top to toe with explicit sex, hard and wet and mean and sweet, flowing around love, and fused with characters who finally feel like us. What women want: with no apologies.
A girl squeezed into a tight uniform has her first day on the job serving ice cream to workmen -- with no small amount of irony (or arousal) about her presentation. A group of girls dare to see what it's like in the male-only arena of a triple-X movie theater. A businesswoman orders spa service to her hotel room as a splurge, only to be confronted by two male masseuses who then compete to see who can give her the most physical pleasure to win the payment. A woman turns the humiliation of an ex-boyfriend exposing a naked picture of her to the world into her own private game.
There is so much more. I'm so proud to work with this outrageously talented authors. Enjoy their adventures of their sexual heroines.
EXCERPT Anyway, I’m sitting there, literally flooding myself, when someone sat down just two seats away from me. I didn’t pay any attention at first, but every so often, a movement would flutter in the corner of my eye. It wasn’t fast, and it certainly wasn’t furtive; at first I thought he was simply munching popcorn. But then Wendy, sitting on my other side, nudged me. “Are you watching this guy?”
I looked. He had his cock out… and that was unusual; most of the guys we’d seen playing with themselves had their hands wedged down the front of their trousers, or maybe covered their laps with a coat. But not this one. Bold as you like, it was out in the open, quivering hard and pointing bolt upright, and he was stroking it, a long, slow sweep with one hand and then, as he reached the tip, and his fingers hung there, the other hand would start at the bottom. And between each sweep, his free hand would go up to his face, and he’d sniff his own fingers and palm.
I glanced at the screen. The movie was into one of its plot interludes. I turned back to the guy. His eyes were glued to the screen, but his hands were still working their magic, slow and patient.
Wendy nudged me again. “How old do you reckon he is?”
“I dunno. Mid-20s, maybe?”
“Watch this.” Wendy rose, placed her purse on her seat and squeezed past our friends on her other side. She walked a smart circuit around the theater, and then headed back to her seat from the other end of the row… the end where the guy was sitting. She’d have to get past him to regain her own seat.
All three of us were watching her now. Laughing, we’d often wondering what would happen if we crept up on one of the guys sitting around us, and placed one hand where his was. Just to see what it felt like. I never thought Wendy would be the one who actually did it, though. Looks like Lily Lamarr was working her magic on her as well.
She’d reached him. By the light of the movie, I could see her mouth “excuse me,” and the guy’s look of absolute shock as he registered her standing there. He made to stand up to let her pass, while frantically trying to tuck his cock out of sight, but as Wendy passed him, her own hand gripped it.
Have you ever startled a kitten when it’s doing something it shouldn’t be? That’s what his face looked like, frozen, wide-eyed, bewildered… and those eyes grew wider still, as Wendy settled down into the empty seat between him and me, still clutching that twitching erection. Then she leaned forward a little.
With her nose just millimeters away from his cock, she took deep breath, then clasped one of his wrists with her free hand, sniffed at that too, and slowly licked her tongue up his palm.
The guy had shifted his feet a little; he was standing in front of her now (I hope nobody behind them was trying to watch the screen!) and I could see everything around Wendy’s fingers: the thick vein that ran up the side of the shaft, the thick mushroom head, the forest of dark hair at the base.
There was a kind of bend in his dick. Although the guy was facing Wendy, the eyelet in his helmet was pointing straight at me. I took a breath, hoping I could catch his scent, but my own was so powerful that I’d need to get a lot closer before that happened. Close enough to smell him, close enough to taste…
continuing an occasional series looking back at the greatest XXX films ever made... the CLIT-erion collection of adult jewels, unsung gems and stone-cold-crazy cunt cult classics.
Pirates and porn. Were two subjects ever destined to be more delightfully intertwined than them? Especially at a time - the mid-2000s - when it really felt like the United States couldn’t get enough of either of them. The XXX market was still booming, and devouring ever greater slices of the erotic video/DVD and rental markets, and what the naked ladies and thrusting loins didn’t sew up, the first two Pirates of the Caribbean movies did. If ever there was an invitation to print money, it was a big budget coupling of America’s two latest, greatest sweethearts.
Product Description A blow-by-blow anthology of first-time fellatio and other oral delights. Chrissie Bentley is a woman on a mission - to raise the profile of oral sex. In 'The Bad Girl's Sweet Kiss' she has brought together her own experiences as well as those of many other erotic writers from all over the world. From some of the most well-known voices in erotica to more recent newcomers to the field, everybody's first time is different. In this diverse collection of blow-by-blow accounts exploring an oft-overlooked act of intimacy, you'll find something to shock, titillate, amuse as well as trigger memories of your own oral initiation.
EXCERPT Sometimes, I think oral sex gets a really bad rap.
Everybody remembers the day (or night) they lost their virginity, that momentous First Time of which poets dream and romantics swoon. Great swathes of the English (and every other) language have been hijacked in the hope of recapturing that moment, oh blessed morn when a cautious flower blossomed to the ministrations of ... oh, get over it. So you popped your cherry – whaddyawant, a band-aid?
Oral sex, on the other hand ... nobody writes poems about that first time (well, some people do and we have two of them here, but you know what I mean); nobody sits up with a thesaurus seeking new and nuanced aphorisms to describe that delight. In fact, sometimes it feels like our mother tongue has gone out of her way to make the whole thing sound base.
Suck him off.
Lick her out.
Blowjob. Really, think about that for a moment. We’ve probably all left work after a bitch of a day to announce to the world that this job blows. And then we’re expected to turn the words around and have fun with it? Yeah, lick me, sucker.
There is even a school of thought that insists oral doesn’t actually count as sex, and before you track that back either to Bill Clinton’s evasions (‘I did not have sex with that woman’), or the slimy squirmings of sundry right-wing fundamentalists who want to get their rocks off and remain chaste for their wedding night ... don’t. I have at least one friend who insists that she didn’t have sex until her early 20s, because she doesn’t count the blowjobs she’d been liberally distributing for the five years leading up to that. And she was active in the ’70s.
But really, who’s she – or anybody else, for that matter – trying to kid? His cock’s in your mouth, his tongue’s in your pussy, and it doesn’t matter how many condoms and dental dams you’re wearing between you. If that isn’t sex, then I pity your marriage vows.
The men and women who tell their stories in this collection have not fallen for any of this. They know what oral sex is, they know what it means and they know why it matters. They understand the intimacy that it conveys, they relish the ecstasy that it conjures and they all believe, as I believe, that for however many moments that your partner is in, or on, or at your mouth, then there is nothing more that you could say or do that could put this moment in the shade. At least until it happens again.
Of course, for something that feels so right, there’s an awful lot that can go wrong. There are few calm and considered seductions in these pages, no crisp white sheets on four-poster beds, perfume filling the air with a heady aroma. This is sex at its most primal, the urgent need to suck or be sucked, to lick or be licked, and it doesn’t matter whether you’re in the front of a car in a fast-food parking lot, with your Pizza World apron draped over your head; or making out in the darkness of the alley behind a bar, when it’s time for it to happen, it happens.
A few people plan for it, because how can you not? This is a book about the first time our writers experienced oral sex, and there’s another book that could be written, about the first time they thought about it, the first time they realised that sex does not begin and end in the downstairs department, and that there’s a lot you can do on the top floor as well. More than any other sexual act, oral is the one that we can all rehearse in our minds, and I’m not even going to ask you if you did. Girls will know the answer from the number of damp bananas in the kitchen; boys will know from the hours they spent exercising their tongues. And then the real thing comes along and everything you practised for goes flying out of the window, because even the greatest imagination can only begin to guess at the possibilities unfurled.
Because that’s the other thing about oral. There’s nothing mechanical about it (or, at least, there shouldn’t be – because if there is, you’re doing it wrong). Fucking tends to involve just that, it’s exactly what it sounds like. But sucking is licking and blowing and biting and gnawing and nuzzling and nibbling too, and licking is lapping and probing and ... you get the picture. Another reason why the common vernacular lets the side down, and you understand for a moment (before you laugh at its silliness) while the late Dr Alex Comfort, author of the bestselling Joy Of Sex handbooks, dispensed with both the crude terms for oral sex, and the tongue-twisting “proper” names, and referred to the whole thing as Mouth Music. Because even the most basic chord can be played in an infinite variety of ways, and the end result ... oh dear, now I’m doing it as well.
So, a collection of stories about first-time fellatio and consummated cunnilingus, and there’s another subtle variation, because there’s a lot of different writers here, and a lot of different interpretations too.
The first time with the opposite sex, the first time with the same sex.
The first time it was wonderful, and the first time it went wrong.
The first time he came and she didn’t even flinch, the first time she squirted and he squealed and ran a mile. Browsing some of the many blogs out there that could be termed the oracles of oral sex, most women posters are adamant that it’s only polite for the man to discretely inquire ‘Do you mind if I come in your mouth?’ And I wonder, given the growing (again, net-inspired) awareness that women, too, are capable of profuse ejaculations, whether any girl has ever asked her man that same question?
Which is as good a place as any to leave these opening ruminations, because there’s a lot of writers waiting here, and they’ve got some wonderful tales to tell you.
I'm a writer, not a photographer. So just be aware that the pics on this site were not taken by me, and aren't owned by me either - not even the ones that I'm in. If you are a photographer and find your pics on this site, please get in touch - I'd love to credit you (if you wish), and even use more of your work. If you're here it's because I love the photo!
MISS AMERICA - A BDSM VAMPIRE TALE
An ancient cult, a modern secret society and one of the most extreme erotic adventures you have ever read. Buy it now from Amazon.
The Nympho Librarian & Other Stories
Eleven scalding tales of lust and love in the halls of public learning - the town library!
The sex is hot, but the librarians are hotter, as authors Chrissie Bentley and Jenny Swallows reveal the lip-smacking truth about what goes on behind (and on top of, and around as well) the bookshelves.