May 182012
 

I haven’t really reviewed porn before.  I’ve written a bit about it, mostly from the perspective of what turns me on, what I like, what I don’t. There’s a lot of bad, little good, and very little that consistently turns me on.  Occasionally, I stumble on something compelling, and lose myself in it.  But very rarely.

This morning, as I sat down to do some actual work, that happened.  I went to the SexArt web site – a relatively new product offering from the folks at Met Art.  I bought a one-year membership to Met Art some time ago.  It’s mostly disappointed me.  It features beautiful, natural, too-young-for-my-taste young women, heavy on the brunettes, in solo photo shoots and videos.  The women are gorgeous, but my tastes really require some combination of narrative – simple is fine – and clothing.  And Met Art features little of either.  So I rarely linger on their images or films.  A few weeks ago, they started promoting SexArt, and their promotions, at least, were enticing.  The women were sexy, and there seemed to be a variety of offerings – solo photo shoots and videos, and some narrative short porn, as well as interviews.  It’s all a bit over-produced, and stylized, for my taste:  the clothes and sets tend to be a little over-done, reminiscent of French porn.  Why is it that porn has to feature only Southern California tastes?  Thank god for Burning Angel (whose porn doesn’t really do it for me, but for whom I’m nonetheless grateful for celebrating more of a Brooklyn ethos).

I slowly, somewhat skeptically, explored my subscription to SexArt.  The interviews (a series called “Girls Love Sex”) – with young actresses, reclining on fancy couches, talking about early sexual experiences, the evolution of their sexual personae, etc., and culminating in an act of slightly over-acted masturbation – weren’t quite my thing.  And the photo sets, too, seem nice enough, but not enough to justify a membership.

They also have occasional “movies,” ten-minute or so affairs, featuring a solo woman, a male/female couple, or two women.  The actors are universally hot – women and men both, and not in the Porn Valley mode.  They’re natural, rugged (the men, at least), sexy.  Again, the movies are over-produced, the acting stilted, the writing not great, but… but it’s hot.  And I found myself coming back every few days to check and see what they’ve added.

And then, this morning….  They have another offering, a weekly “series” called “Kamikaze Love.”  I didn’t watch an episode of this until this morning, when I pressed play on season 1, episode 11. ”It’s What I Want.”  It was SO FUCKING HOT.  Not perfectly so, but still….  It opens with Malena Morgan, a sexy, petite brunette, with small breasts, a few too many tattoos for my taste (or at least, too many tattoos for the character she plays, and the sets in which she’s cast), and a little too much make-up and hair styling, being awakened by a phone call.

The caller is Christos Vasilopoulo, a sexy Greek actor.  He’s confident, cocky even, wearing a suit, his shirt unbuttoned just a little, his tie loosened.  He’s commanding, dominant, asking Morgan to describe a recent photoshoot she had done.  The scene progresses as he directs her masturbation, as he commands her, demands of her.  He demands words, he pushes her.  She masturbates to his direction, he pulls his cock out and joins her, remotely.  He and she engage in elaborate, hot, phone sex, imagining her first ass-fucking, imagining her sucking him, their fucking.

The acting’s not great, the writing’s not great – I’m not sure if I believe her climax, her approach to it.  But if she’s acting, it’s hot acting – as she bucks and writhes on her bed, the muscles on her inner thighs contract rhythmically, her taut abdomen sure looks twitchy, involuntarily spasming.  And the power play between him and her is delicious.  It captures precisely the sort of hotness toward which I aspire in much of my sex life, in many of the encounters I’ve had and described here.

After watching it, I had to have more, so I went back to the first episode, and took in the conceit:  Morgan is a guest in an interview (a radio show?) with an interviewer (who seems to be uncredited).  She’s telling a story that clearly ends badly, a story of sexual obsession in which she “nearly lost [her] leg, nearly lost [her] life.”  The episodes are ten minutes or so long, and in the first one, she meets Vasilopoulo in a store in Santa Monica.  In the second, he seduces her.  I stopped after the second, because, geez, I have a life, you know?  (Or at least, I needed to rub one out, and get this post up.)  The seduction scene is insanely hot, in spite of the acting – Vasilopoulo’s brows seem forever knitted, his seriousness is almost comic.  He commands her to stand against a wall, to get naked for him.  He takes his cock out, and commands her to come and fuck him.  He praises her body, expresses his desire, and communicates his openness to her rejecting him.  And then there’s the fucking:  she lowers herself, slowly, onto him, and he commands her not to kiss him, not to touch him, not to move, except to “contract the muscles in your vagina slowly.”  He says this – and everything – in a lovely Greek accent.

They fuck, and it’s really hot.  She hardly moves, but they’re talking throughout.  And then, they start moving.  Bucking, grinding, fucking furiously.  And then it’s over.

 

Damn.  Seriously hot shit.

The trailer for the series is below.  I’ve now watched three of the episodes – 1, 2, and 11.  You may rest assured I’ll be watching the rest.  I only hope I can get something – anything – else done before I finish.


Kamikaze Love Trailer – SexArt by sexartcom

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