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Suggested Audio Lube:

[1] Jean Pierre Mirouze Sexopolis

[2] Cyndi Lauper She Bop

[3] Grace Jones Pull Up To The Bumper

[4] PornoSonic Peach Fuzz

[5] Deep Throat La La La

[6] The Cure Pornography

 

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Firstly, I’m going to need to be checking that I.D. as the topic we are about to discuss is not for the faint-hearted and anyone at all prudish really ought not to apply. I feel obliged to make this abundantly clear from the offset, I’m kind of an old-fashioned guy at heart and hardly the sexual deviant you may think I am. Would you believe I actually used to be a choirboy and consider myself a rather shy and reserved English gentleman. However, I’m also utterly disinterested in boundaries and far happier when free range; nobody wants to end up cooped up like a battery hen when they could be out there selling their speckled eggs to the black market. I trust that we are all above the age of consent and that makes us all adults right? Thus try not to be too appalled and rest assured that I won’t be stooping too low for the most part. That said, there will be a closing gallery and it will embrace all three X’s in the name of what is, by all accounts, some fairly spectacular artwork. I’m never happier than when pushing the limits, causing a commotion, and hopefully sparking off a dash of friendly discussion. Hold onto that last statement as you may well be needing it in a few minutes time. For now, better got those helmets on.

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Any repeat offenders amongst us may well recall a three-piece sequence I published recently by the name of The ABCs of Sex. For the most part, this was actually a rather tasteful look at copulation and all it entails and surprisingly somewhat dignified. However, as we careered towards the ass-end of the alphabet, the bar of good taste lowered dramatically and, by the time I reached the letter Z, it all got real wrong and real fast. While I was quick to distance myself from Zoophilia as much as was humanly possible, I have still been banished indefinitely from Old MacDonald’s Farm and may never again ride a thoroughbred pony. Needless to say, when the troublesome letter X came into play, there seemed no other way than to pluralize it to the power of three, lifting the lid ever so slightly on the shady world of XXX adult entertainment. For the record, and this may sound distinctly like bullshit but I assure you it isn’t, hardcore porn has never really tickled my pickle. I know right? A lot of the freaky shit that goes on in the world of sleaze leaves me cold and I’m far more tuned in to being teased with a tickler, than battered into submission with a Bratwurst.

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Let’s not twist the twizzler, I’m hardly what you would call priggish and the word no doesn’t pass my lips regularly when suggestions are being made for a little harmless fun and frolics in the bedroom. But I’d much prefer to undergo any exploration in the safe confines of a committed relationship than unearth all manner of debauchery in the sole name of getting myself off. While other boys my age were attempting to learn what Debbie really got up to in Dallas after lights out and what she had for lunch also, I was more than content with peering through the peep-hole in the shower wall from Porky’s in the hope of glimpsing a quick flash of eighties bush. Indeed, little has changed now, and I’d still take being tantalized to having my senses pummelled by the kind of shenanigans that traditionally play out once that three-way X is introduced. Some things are just better not spelled out and applying a little restraint can be far more arousing than rushing in like a bull in a china shop, smashing vintage crockery with my burly erection. Porn, or smut as it is often referred to, tends to leave precious little to the imagination and, for one with such an untamed consciousness as myself, it all feels a little wasteful if I’m honest. Moreover, it can desensitize its audience after enough time and there’s not much left to fall back on once you’ve well and truly fisted the elephant in the room, with a knuckle duster no less.

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Let’s start with the vagina shall we? After all, this never proposed to be an exercise in half measures, and where better to start than those double-berth garages? This is where it all goes a little off-kilter for me as, while there is such a thing as a lady garden, let’s not forget the dreaded garbage dump. Every last one of us needs to take out the refuse at least once a week or those foxes will start sniffing around our cans in no time. The female genitalia from the lion’s share of XXX adult entertainment features closely resembles a bundle of wash day linen that has been set upon by jackals. Indeed, I believe I once likened it to attempting to cram far too many items into your travel luggage before pounding it repeatedly with a wrecking ball or similarly unminced words to that effect. The challenge appears to be accommodating the bulkiest items possible and all this excess duress does nothing whatsoever for elasticity. There are only so many times you can slam a castle door with a battering ram before the hinges become compromised and, while all fun and games at the time, it soon ends in tears once the dreaded prolapse arrives.

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Similarly, alpha junk tends to be just as unsightly, and I struggle to remember a single penis that hasn’t had the appearance and coloration of a bruised aubergine. Size matters in the world of hardcore porn and it is easy to feel inadequate when comparing your girth to the gnarled pugils on display. That said, what these purple people eaters boast in inches, they surrender in good looks and often appear to have just gone fifteen rounds with Ivan Drago. Crooked in the über-extreme, the XXX schlong is a sight designed only to make your eyes sore, and I’m more than content with my average size as it just doesn’t seem worth the trade-off in my estimation. Of course, it’s all relative, as the disheveled fortresses that they plunder are every bit as ghastly looking but it’s hardly a titillating proposition watching the two wrestle for supremacy. If you ask me, it’s a good job that hardcore porn pays well, as the circus certainly doesn’t and even the bearded lady would likely turn her nose up at these misshapen mauve marauders.

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Then we have titties and, more often than not, XXX boobies have been injected with enough silicone to totally do away with any discernible jiggle. Here’s where I stand on those fun bags, be they large or small, it doesn’t matter a jot to me. So long as they move of their own free will, I’m honk them ’til the batteries go flat. Fake bosoms are just no fun whatsoever and stand firm to far too much scrutiny for my liking. Word to the wise ladies, when they slide into your armpits while sun-bathing, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. What is far more disheartening a proposition is a pair of unmovable objects that haven’t got the time to play with gravity. Given that there’s a considerable amount of money to be made from XXX endeavor, the first item on the agenda for ladies often involves the surgeon’s scalpel and not all procedures go according to plan. A nip here and a tuck there is all well and good but, when those A cups miraculously transform into DDs, it just looks downright freakish. Each to their own I guess but I’d take a pair of flagging breasts with personality over a brace of stiffened sputniks any day of the week.

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Maybe I’m missing a trick here but where’s the gradual build-up? There’s nowhere near enough tease involved for my liking and XXX falls down with regards to narrative. One moment the pool guy arrives with net in hand to get cracking on any overdue maintenance and, the very next, he’s up to his elbows in clunge and shirking every last one of his responsibilities. Whoever edits porn should be taken to task for omitting any footage of the two flirting outrageously, in favor of the somewhat predictable end result. It’s all a little too cut to the chase for any real sense of arousal and only gets worse as they finally share a few lines of dialogue. “Fuck me hard with that big stiff cock” leaves nothing whatsoever to the imagination and, while I can see the allure of talking dirty during intercourse, it’s all so dreadfully blatant. Call me old-fashioned and I shall start waving my 1930s jazz hands, but it’s just so terribly final. Back in the day, a lady wished to be swept off her feet and long periods of courtship were embarked on before that all-important wedding night cherry pop. That was until the zoom lens was patented. I’ve already stated how unattractive I find nether regions to be in the world of adult entertainment, so the last thing I want is to get up close and personal as they go about their smutty business.

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During the eighties, the laws were stringent with regards to what was deemed acceptable for public consumption. I worked in a video store right through my teens and the porn selection was decidedly soft core. Of course, the black market was overspilling with sleaze should you wish for something a little more in your face, but the censorship board made sure that this didn’t circulate openly in the public domain. Fast forward thirty years and the worldwide web is positively teeming with cum-shots and squirting flowers. I shit you not, sourcing images plays a massive part in my process, and I can’t even Google search something totally innocuous like “pussy willow” without having my senses assaulted by the time I’ve scrolled a few columns. The internet is nigh-on impossible to police and this makes pretty much everything fair game. No messing porn sites are commonplace, we are only ever one cookie away from unwittingly opening a live web cam in those rear windows, and STDs have long since been replaced with all manner of speed sapping computer viruses. It’s madness I tell you. I’m the first to flick the bird at censorship but there is something to be said for restraint and it seems to be a thing of the past regrettably.

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Even the music is sordid. Just once it would be nice to crank up Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata and allow the stresses of the day to fritter away but, instead, the audio largely comprises electric guitar riffs with overused wah-wah pedal, and done to death reverb. The film Deep Throat was largely responsible for delivering porn groove to the wider audience and, to its credit, the footage was cut with the soundtrack in mind, as each thrust was cunningly synchronized with the audio flow. Then it cottoned on and porn groove soon became synonymous with the brand. Just once I would like to hear something a little less rimshot. Perhaps a dash of Enya as those crashing waves and distant seagulls could create the ideal high tide and leave us feeling de-stressed and reinvigorated. Just a thought. I’m not entirely sure that the London Philharmonic Orchestra would be open to being commissioned to score Pygmy Pussy Pounders in Peru but there has to be more than one way to blow a clarinet. That said, porn groove does possess a certain degree of comedy value and belly laughs are admittedly at a bit of a premium with the likes of Verdi.

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Everyone has their own secret fetish and these are pretty much all accounted for with online porn. Variety is the spice of life and there’s certainly no shortage of that should you be looking to get those knees trembling. The deeper you dig, the faster your fiber-optic broadband begins to resemble dial-up, and married men are left frantically deleting their search history for fear of their wives of ten years stumbling across their meticulous research into the field of golden showers. Of course, certain couples are on the same page, and porn manages to find a way into their boudoirs to help spice up the midweek missionary. Who needs a marriage counsellor when you’ve got good old XXX to paper over the cracks? The key here is first to choose something that both parties are comfortable and, secondly, try and select something that won’t leave you feeling inadequate. Fellas, if you see the name Jeff Stryker pop up on the opening credits, then it may be a good time to start feigning those headaches as there’s nothing run-of-the-mill about 9.5 inches. Can you say reconstructive vaginal surgery?

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Bizarrely, we are still waiting for the first pornographic feature film to be shortlisted for an award by the Academy. It’s criminal when you consider the level of performance in skin flicks and all that glorious dialogue. While Henry Fonda was picking up his Best Actor Oscar for his performance as Norman Thayer Jr. in On Golden Pond at the 76th Academy Awards, Ron Jeremy’s turn as the guy with the abnormal cock on Wanda Whips Wall Street was being harshly overlooked. As a result, he never did land that guest spot on Sesame Street. Let’s be honest, acting chops plays a poor second fiddle to being hung like a Shetland pony and that is precisely why Donald Trump turned to politics. If you don’t believe me, here’s one from Trump’s XXX portfolio to make Harvey Kietel feel better.

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Meanwhile, it’s encouraging to see that someone finally had the good sense of pairing horror and porn together. The Texas Vibrator Massacre may not be as raw on the terror front but there is a fair deal of chafing. Ultimately however, skin flicks are always going to be considered the runt of the filmic litter and I’m fairly assured they’ll be comfortable with that accolade. As I already mentioned, personally I find it all a bit wah-wah-wah for my liking and I’m more the Mr. Skin kind of deviant. I could tell you that America’s one-time sweetheart Meg Ryan finally flashed that bush at the 42-minute mark of In The Cut, but I couldn’t point out Jenna Jameson’s coochie in an identity parade. That’s just me, the idea of Leatherface pursuing poor Sally Hardesty through the Texas thicket with a Double-Ended Donkey Fucker from our good friends over at Oxballs just doesn’t seem natural. However, we live in an age where XXX adult entertainment is now considered fair game and, regardless of whether or not it’s advanced a great deal during that time, you have to dish out those dues for it cumming this far.

tumblr_neu9e9Kbyr1r8brruo1_500Click here to escape with your dignity before the closing gallery

 

Truly, Really, Clearly, Sincerely,

Richard Charles Stevens

aka

Keeper of the Crimson Quill

Copyright: Crimson Quill: Savage Vault Enterprises 2016

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Cum Again

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Okay Grueheads, I see a few of you have braved it out thus far and I have nothing but kudos for showing such courage under fire. That said, don’t go slipping off those gauntlets just yet as there’s still the small matter of a closing gallery to take care of. Now this one’s tricky as there is nothing that pleases me more than discovering fine art and, hand on heart, I consider the work of the mysterious Sparrow to be just that. Granted, it’s a little obscene, and you may even find it too misogynistic for your personal tastes but, when all is said and done, it’s just art. I shall not be linking any of the following images back to his site as heaven knows what kind of plagues I contracted just sourcing the following fifteen pictorials. But I will give the guy credit where it’s clearly due, even if buying him a drink is pushing it a little. This may well be the move that swings my final judgement you know and, should that be the case, then I’m taking you lot with me. Muhahaha, I mean, feast your peepers and I’ll get the kiln firing.

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