Time was when we crawled for trade. Groveled, cajoled, gave up our money as well as our pride, and got smacked in the face and rolled.

Well, times change. Today, we may still pay for viewing privileges. But we’ve got our pride, because now the str8 boys are crawling to us, asking to bought, smacking their cocks in our faces, rolling ‘em in their palms. The male stars of heterosexual porn who appear in Chi Chi LaRue’s Str8 Shots II, a sequel to a successful first outing, really get off on being admired by gay men.

Or is it just a marketing ploy? Ms. LaRue certainly maximizes profit by filming these solos during his shoots of straight porn. And the female hostess of this movie, with comments and behavior directed at women, make me feel the movie’s original intended audience was gals, not guys (a feeling bolstered by the fact that none of the guys do that standardized gay movie thing, and eat their spunk). It was lazy of Chi Chi not to make SS II more suitably gay by inserting a male host. And while the movie’s music is excellent, and the sets artfully creative, the videography distresses with its insistence on sideways, vertiginous views. But hosting and POV are endurable, because whether or not you’re into the solo jack-off genre, I think you’ll find six of the men in Str8 Shots II pretty choice, with another two exceptionally memorable.

These guys are attractive and well built. They’ve clipped their pubes nearly out of existence, a look I like for the way it sets off a cock. Two of them have shaved their pubes entirely, an even more striking look. This is a movie about cock worship, after all. The men have cleared the brush away from the marble altars from which their divinity projects. Projects quite a bit, in most cases.

Box cover babe Kris Knight, a varsity wrestler type, sheds his jock strap in a locker room; Eric Masterson, a blond Aryan god, swings above us atop a steel cage, and as we gaze worshipfully upward, his spunk rains down on us. Rivaldo is a spicy, uncut Latino. Uncut Trent Tesoro is a smooth, younger lad, Marco Duato a suave Continental killer. Tyler Knight, the movie’s sole black performer, gives us a smile and a mellow, Love Unlimited, Barry White kind of experience.

Tommy Gunn opens the show, and almost finished me off. This ripely maturing, elegantly muscled and warm-eyed handsome man is an expert show-off who makes sure we get well acquainted with his fat, patrician cock. He gives the sturdy tool quite a beating. Stopping the show altogether is sizzling Grant Michaels, an extraordinarily humpy bodybuilder. Totally in keeping with the mass and solidity of his body is his deluxe, whopper cock, which he delivers to us with near wicked glee. He actually reaches out to pull us in. He’s fun, and unbearably sexy. Whatta combo. Made me wanna check out his filmography, and wish he’d partner up with some men.

*



Here’s something to take pride in--the numerous and creative ways we’ve staked out gay sexual identity--leathermen, twinks, bears, and finally, with the emergence of the first truly out generation of aging gay men, daddies. So whether or not you’re into daddies or the sexuality of men over 40, you gotta admire the way Pantheon Productions has been filling this niche with assured craft and lusty men.

Pantheon’s latest release is Dad’s Automotive (Real Men Vol. 13). At first glance, it doesn’t seem too different from all the other movies depicting sex in automobile shops. But Dad’s Automotive doesn’t play it false. The men don’t have neatly applied spots of dirt, don’t hype up their masculinity in traditional porn-movie mode, or, god forbid, insist on being straight dudes. Yes, there’s a bit more belly than in pretty-boy porn. But there’s a whole lot more brawn. These adults have hair on their balls, and everywhere else a man has hair. The Pantheon mix of enthusiastic newcomers, along with a few seasoned performers who nonetheless aren’t porn careerists, plus a mainstream star, results in truthful encounters. “It looks real because it is real,” says lead performer Rob Lawrence.

Chris Roma’s direction is economical. There’s barely a shred of dialogue in Dad’s Automotive. One scene is launched with “Hi, boss,” and another with “Wassup?” So not much time is wasted in getting to action that develops organically, is sensibly framed --none of those cockeyed, sideways views--and is calmly edited. Over the course of two hours we’re given three duo and two trio groupings with some hot and hairy guys, sporting cockrings all around. Making his film debut at 50, handsome Rob Lawrence has a thick ring through his tit, and an even thicker cockring ‘round one of the thickest cocks I’ve ever seen. It’s a real Coke can. Spike Daddy is the oldest performer, at 57, and has the biggest gut. But he pumps ass just fine. Erik Hall is a slender and sexy, 37 year old Swede who bottoms in two scenes. Top man Mick Edwards is striking at 53, with shaved head and silver goatee. Jack Austen, beefy at 46, tops twice.

And where would we be without at least one daddy’s boy in the mix? A press pack said smooth-bodied porn professional Patrick O’Connor was 29, but in an on-screen interview, he confesses to 36. Whatever, he’s got that boy-thing going on, and in the movie’s last scene he takes on both Lawrence and Austin with determined flair.

Allen Silver, 42, is a Pantheon favorite, having appeared in five films. He’s a sweet natured, rough playing, furry ball of fun. He sure is pleasing, making out with Rob Lawrence in the film’s opening scene. They trade blow jobs, rim jobs--and they trade fucks. Silver’s fuck is impressive for his ability to take a cock as thick as one of your more improbable dildos, and Rob’s fuck is impressive because guys like him are usually only expected to top. Silver’s also impressive for the smile and laughter that follow his orgasm when Rob literally fucks the cum outta him. Silver plays hard, and enjoys himself big time.

Enjoyment of hearty, good natured sex--that’s Dad’s Automotive.