Review

Apartments
"New York, New York it's a wonderful town!" And according to seasoned porn star/director Michael Lucas one can't find peaceful refuge from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan because his fellow neighbors haven't discovered the art of biting a pillow. Amidst the moans and groans Lucas’ neighbors are horny to the max in his film Apartments, where close quarters can yield noisy and sexually charged results.

Handsome Michael Lucas and his equally “easy on the eyes” boyfriend Carlos Aguirre can't get no sleep because their next store neighbor is, as Lucas puts it, "a fucking sex maniac!" Do not fret dear reader, because soon Lucas and Aguirre distract each other with a lick-a-thon that covers cocks, asses, and even Aguirre's nicely manicured feet (we love pedicures, don't we?). Soon Lucas solidly fucks Aguirre, giving the boy bottom an opportunity to groan just as loudly as their noisy neighbor. The chemistry between the two is natural, looking like there is some serious lovemaking going on. Lucas delivers his man tonic directly on Aguirre's face. (This is porn after all.) Aguirre licks Lucas’ crack until our randy Russian shoots another load on his lover's chiseled face. And finally, Aguirre unloads on his tummy.

Bitter Lucas, with a bug up his ass (I’m glad he has something up there), wants to start a petition to kick the shrieking siren out of the building; he even warns new tenants Damion and Rick Gonzales that they are going to hate it here. The boys smile politely but have other concerns. To get laid! They flop on their Ikea styled sofa bed (which is conveniently left... open) and proceed to suck each other's faces until their heads cave in. After an invigorating 69 session Damion sticks his heels up in the air, displaying furry man hole for Gonzales’ tongue spit. Without missing a lick, Damion returns the favor, tonguing Gonzales’ hirsute and “wink, wink” sphincter until our Latin lover is bouncing on the one-name wonder's huge dick. A missionary scene later, Damion takes Gonzales’ tube steak of lovin' up his bum in one, lube-enriched stroke. Damion and Gonzales shoot thick and heavy.

In the Director's Cut Gonzales pees all over Damion and the sofa bed in the most non-erotic water sports scene I've ever seen. Obviously, he is marking his territory. [Note to self: Avoid the sofa bed when spending the night.]

Noisy neighbor Antonio Vela (who has the coolest tattoo between his shoulder blade - a red Canadian maple leaf) won’t stop moaning because he is entertaining not one but two guests: Lucas Exclusive Marco Rochelle and Latin honey Mario Ortiz. After a daisy chain suck-off, Ortiz gets fucked by Rochelle, Ortiz fucks Vela and then Rochelle and Ortiz cum, respectively and simultaneously, on each side of Vela's face. A creamy load escapes out of Vela’s turgid member before smiles abound and kisses are shared.

Lucas reappears, hell bent on telling Vela that he wants him out of the building. Not one to back down, Vela incorporates a “good neighbor” policy and invites Rick Gonzales (from scene one) over for a cup of four-way sugar with black stud Polo McCabe and tattooed David. Cock sucking, spit layered rimming, etc. You get the oral sex picture, that is until McCabe and David are the recipients of a heated fuck invasion by Gonzales and Vela. Finally, with McCabe lying on his back, the other three guys deliver a juice facial and oral unloading that would make any cosmetologist proud.

In the Director's Cut Gonzales marks his territory again on the three guys in another (and quite lengthy) water sports sequence.

As Barbra Streisand and Donna Summer said, “Enough is enough!” So Lucas tells his boyfriend that they are moving out. But life goes for another pair of urban dwellers when hung and tattooed Danny Hunter and boyish Jony Kfir suck each other’s male parts. Hunter then gets on his back and gets his butt royally eaten, and in an incredible act of yoga flexibility, Hunter chews on his own man tool. (Kudos to Pilates!) Kfir, having enough of the self-service stylings of Hunter basically sits on his monster stick instead and goes for a ride. (Damn, that’s big!) Without missing a beat, Hunter flips Kfir over and pounds him mercilessly till Kfir explodes. K-pow! Hunter points and shoots on Kfir's face and then proceeds to lick his own cum off his lover's face.

Director's Cut water sports special: Hunter and Kfir end up in the shower whizzing on each other. Again, no spice here, just basic whizzing.

Polished and occasionally sensual (the men look like they are truly enjoying each other) Apartments has great looking guys bopping, sucking, and licking quite enthusiastically under perfect lighting and a steady camera. The sexual montages could invoke a whole apartment building to moan, groan and finally sigh in orgasmic relief.

 -- Cubby Britches

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Pick of the Pack
Guaranteed to make you shed a tear and pop a huge load. In this wet-dream-come-true sextravaganza, director Michael Lucas offers a handful of his yummiest stock players the chance to get freaky with their fantasy fuck partners. The sweaty results are throbbingly, oozingly spectacular.

Interspersed between the smoldering sessions of volcanic, jit-spewing man mischief, Lucas conducts brief, fully-clothed interviews with his models.

First up are Tom International and hunk-a-licious stud-fuck Max Grand, who wears his magnificent, muscled body like a chiseled meat suit. Tom begins by munching on Max’s foreskin, and soon offers his pretty pink hole to Max, who enjoys a slurpy rim chew before plugging Tom’s smooth heinie with his grand cock.

Super-hung Chad Hunt has a go at hot bottom blonde Scott Baker on a sunny rooftop deck in New York City. They get on with the cock gobbling, in full view of anybody who was lucky enough to chance a peek from any one of the buildings towering in the background. Luckily, we have the premium view of Scott choking on Chad’s mighty, down-curved anaconda while his chin is thwacked by the heavy swing of Chad’s golf-ball-sized ’nads. Soon, the boys take it inside where they continue to 69 each other as Scott spreads his legs and begins to finger his own furry bum. Cut to Chad’s substantial schlong sliding ten inches deep in and out of Scott’s quivering squeeze-hole. With some aggressive lunging and riposting, Chad “punch fucks” Scott’s ass thoroughly. For the finale, Chad pops a juicy load all over Scott’s face and even manages to shoot a spurt up his nostril.

Butch daddy Erik Martins, in search of a versatile look-alike, connects with Lance Gear: both are beefy, shaved and inked and go at each other like a pair of frat boys locked in the dungeon. Fans of tight denim, spit play and a bit of master-and-servant hijinx will enjoy this naughty sequence, which features some 69 ass-chewing, a collaring/asphyxiation by belt during frenzied fellatio, a hot + sticky facial and, in the director’s cut, some post-coital golden sprinkle action in the shower.

Lastly, director Michael Lucas and Max Grand have a protracted taste of each other. They begin with tongue kissing, a session of 69ing, some mild shrimping and a bit of foreskin chewing. Then Lucas, the consummate top, offers his rigid bone to Max, who takes a wriggly seat on it! Enjoying lengthy strokes, Max gyrates his hips as his tight ass bears all the way down on Lucas’ long, throbbing goodness. Max spews a wild spray of man goo while being power-pluked, the pearly remnants a viscous badge of honor for having taken such a sinister cock so proficiently.

 -- Beef Stroganoff

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Uncovered
Ahhh, Michael Lucas. The Man. The Myth. You all know his back-story by now: Born to poor plantation-workers, he overcame terrible childhood afflictions to become one of the most well-respected and influential black musicians of the Twentieth Century. Oh wait, that’s Stevie Wonder.

Lucas is that guy who’s way too gorgeous for his own safety, leaving Babushkaland to become a Falcon model (by way of a brief stint with Jean-Daniel Cadinot) then got behind the lens, found he missed the attention and now works on both sides of the camera.

This is his twentieth production as director/producer/star, and this is my first date with the legendary stud - a "Clarissa Explains It All"-style piece in which he addresses the camera, letting us plebs drink from his vast cup of wisdom.

Lucas introduces French stunner Rochelle and Latino love-boat Martinez. However, Lucas spends way too long explaining his porno philosophy when all we want to see is the couple jump each other’s bones. His philosophy is commendable (he worships versatility in his performers), but someone should have pulled the emergency cord on his train of thought, because it goes insanely fast before derailing completely. (He tells us "pornography should be hungerfill," before incorrectly correcting himself with the equally specious "hungryful.")

Luckily the uncut guys begin their love-scene just as my sexual frustration was about to kick in big-time. I really was five seconds away from curling into a ball and sobbing. This amazingly hot opener is set on a Manhattan roof garden, and is and intensely passionate affair. Slow moving at first, the two deep-kiss whilst disrobing to reveal perfection in flesh-form, then orally pleasure each other - you really have to see Martinez deep-throat. Wow. He’s worked with the best in the past and has no doubt picked up many a handy tip or three along the way. (And he’s hung like a bison, too - poor Rochelle can’t even get it all in his mouth!) Martinez threatens to spoil the scene briefly as he pulls a few odd faces whilst receiving a fabulously intense rimming from his Parisian Paramour.

The dynamic duo flip-flop-fuck, as noted by Lucas earlier (I hate it when someone gives away the ending) and wind the scene to its close with Martinez being covered in their United Colors of Spentathon. I guess they had to finish quickly, though. Once Rochelle started banging down Martinez’s walls, his moans of pleasure got way too loud, and I’m sure the neighbors were phoning both 911 and the Noise Abatement Society. But what was wrong with the microphone that day? Way too much background-hiss that put me off slightly, as I took to wondering exactly when Manhattan developed a monsoon season.

We’re back with Lucas as he introduces us to Canadian stud Allen, who struggles to get a few words in during their “interview”. Allen’s a med student (so much for models being dumb as all-hell) who’s trying to find a way to legally stay in the States (Clue: Marry a dyke). He’s brought along his boyfriend Morelli to perform their video debut together, and we find that the two have been an item for over eight months. In the gay timescale that’s well into the "our sex is getting stale, we should liven it up with a threesome" season.

Cut to naked Lucas getting to grips with the horny hairy totally do-some twosome; beefy older Morelli slurping away on our protagonist’s perfect pecker whilst Allen gets over his cold feet by sucking on Lucas’. Turns out Morelli’s quite the deep-throat expert, spending huge amounts of screen-time worshipping Pretty Boy’s length, who I’m afraid to say comes across slightly smacking of the old “I’m so beautiful I’ll just lie here looking fab whilst you do all the work” routine. Don’t believe me? The only time he really reciprocates is a few seconds worth of blow-job, and for that shoots them a look so demanding of a courteous response you’d think he’d just donated a kidney.

It’s pretty easy to see which one is the lady of the real-life couple, as Daddy Pop takes a whack on his younger lover’s cornhole, Lucas watching before taking over and pumping Allen’s Hershey highway to a very wet climax. Still hungry, Lucas forces his way up Morelli’s alley, causing the vocal-heavy dude to detonate a love-bomb of his own! The pair finally lick Lucas’ nads to eruption. I wish Temptation Island could have been like this!

Lucas’ slightly-off-synch show-and-tell continues as he’s on the couch with Bolt, Gonzales and Edwards, who’s making his return to porn after a four year absence. (Four years? He looks way too young!) Lucas’ encyclopedic knowledge of the trio’s entire careers, screen-partners and sexual positions seems phenomenal until you realize he’s describing his own productions. I really wanted Bolt to interrupt with, "Well, I did do Oral Exams, you know." The couch pep-talk concludes and Lucas is replaced by black stud Westin, and I’m hoping this signifies the end of the talented guy’s Bacchus-based days of second-ratedom.

The four slowly undress each other, the camera panning between their bodies in tight close-up, creating a wonderfully erotic disorientation where you can no longer tell where one body finishes and another begins. Out come four memorable pricks, some peeking out to say hello from their turtle-necked comforters. Two pairs of inter-changing kissing couples compete in a sizzling sex-marathon featuring a non-stop session of licking, sucking, nibbling, caressing, sixty-nining and ass-eating before Westin leads a flip-floppety assault on our senses, with tops changing ends and partners so quickly you’ll lose count. I swear, sometimes it’s a case of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it! They all look so great it’s enough to turn a grown man bitter. And their money shots? Woof! It’s a competition to see who can shoot the most, the highest.

In the Director's Cut there’s a brief two minute scene up next as the four guys are transplanted outside in what was no doubt supposed to be a sizzling, controversial high point - golden showers. Unfortunately, the performers go all pee-shy, limp and eventually it’s only Westin and Gonzales who manage to get off a few spurts of the old yellow, spraying the other guys’ naked bodies. I’ve suffered more splash-back when I’m alone at a urinal, drunk. Pretty soon they give up and do a Golden Girls-style group hug. Fade out.

The fourth scene sees the return of Rochelle and Edwards, already bed-based and clad in their tighty-whities, the elastic of which is suffering serious stretching, as their throbbing tools scream to be released from their 100% cotton cocoons. Lucas tries to introduce the scene but gives up, deciding to let actions speak louder than words. Aha, so that’s how you silence Chatty Kathy. You upstage him.

I wonder if Lucas did this scene as an afterthought. You know the duo fancied each other and were gonna fuck anyway, and he had the camera for a full day after all; might as well get his money’s worth. Who cares, though, because these two studs are naturals, sixty-nining on what I’m hoping are flame-retardant sheets! Some serious rim-jobs follow, leading to a Tribute to Versatility as the fantastic fuckbuddies take turns riding each other’s donkey-sized dongers in wonderfully athletic poses before The Pleasure Express drops them both off at Spoogeville.

Vela and Heights are the performers in the final scene, a stunning little romp. The guys mess around as if they were powered by Energizers. Some funky blow-jobs lead to a greasy ass-fingering probe-job-session that could have been controversially close to fisting, were it not for the fact that I wipe my ass deeper than this. Vela, who I’ve been a fan of ever since I first saw his maple-leaf tattoo in ManPlay 5, takes it like a man from his buddy, who in return gets a massive black dildo up his own garden-path, before a final flipjob sees the screen sizzling like bacon. Hiss! We got steam heat!

 -- Froufrou A. Gogo

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