Review

When we last left our cowboy drama, a petty squabble between two neighboring ranches over a superfluously insignificant resource (water) had escalated into full-out gang violence, with one man, Jake Deckard, paying the ultimate price. As Ricky Sinz himself says in this, the second half of our epic, "Whiskey's for drinkin'. Water's for fightin' over." But as you'll learn, this western-tinted flick's resident villain Ricky has more uses for whiskey than he lets on. More on that later.

So, with Jake pumped full of lead and dispatched to that wide open prairie in the sky, his fellow Double K raunch-hands, and a priest, assemble to pay their respects. Once they've cleared out, Jake's old lover-boy and renegade Flying V Antton Harri sneaks in to say his own sad private goodbye, when - BLAM! POW! - shots are fired and two more bodies lay cold and dead.

But I like 'em hot and alive, and I hope you do, too, because after that grim spectacle we segue right back into the sex. Ricky is at it again, just as twisted and mean as you like him, taking butch drags of his cigarette and guzzling whiskey as tattooed beauty Damian Rios slurps hungrily on his hard-on. Points to J.D. Slater for his score here and elsewhere, which lend an ambiance to the sex scenes without drowning out the grunts and sharp inhalations and other hot sloppy sex sounds that I've grown (in a manner of speaking) to love.

From a cocksucker's-eye-view we see Ricky, serious as a heart attack, get his pecker slick and wet. He wraps his belt around Damian's neck, fucks his mouth, and makes him drink whiskey off his cock. He even goes so far as to unholster his gun and fires some shots into the air before getting a little slap-happy with Rios. After that, he spits into his bottom's ass-crack and goes to town, running his handgun up and down Damian's back, and busting open the whiskey again to pour on his other weapon as it penetrates Rios' cornhole. Finally, Damian saves a horse by riding cowboy Ricky, until he lets loose with an impressive pop-shot.

What comes next is easily TTLM's most outstanding bit of melodrama. What was this bloodshed all about to begin with? A drought! And what's happening now? It's raining! Scott Tanner is choking on the bitter, bitter irony, in addition to all the scenery he's trying to gnaw down, as he stumbles through the storm, into the mud, flailing his hands to the sky and cursing the heavens, crying out, "Why?! Why?!" It's a tasty bit of camp, to be sure.

Moving on, Jimmy Trips is bummed out about all this bloodshed too, and who better to console him than stacked muscle-bear Rick Powers? Jimmy has a ridiculously huge uncut piece of meat, with a heavy-duty low-hanging nutsack to match, and Powers takes his time showing it sweet mouth-love, before throwing his legs up in the air to show it some pucker-love as well. Afterwards, Powers joins us again for a far jollier roll in the hay with another uncut'n'well-hung power top Tristan Jaxx. Powers demonstrates his sucking prowess yet again, we're treated to the first rimming scene of Part II, and the hookup culminates in Jaxx drenching Powers' face in gooey splooey.

Lean otter Scott Campbell only thinks he's alone as he takes a skinny-dip in the creek and then decides to stroke one off. Nearby, Antonio Biaggi, armed with a shotgun and a bottle, watches and whips out his own piece. It's not long before Scott is soaking Biaggi's mega-schlong in drool, enthusiastically taking it as deep as he can. Biaggi matches Campbell for raw passion as he returns the blowjob and throws some rimming in for good measure. An acrobatic round of ass-fucking commences, followed by double-whammy oral cumshots that have both Antonio and Scott slurping sperm. This was a definite rewind-twice/slow-motion-replay climax for me, and a high-point if cum-eating is your cup of tea. Once the love-fest is over, Flying V loyalist Antonio tries to drown water-thievin' Scott and ends up floating face-down in the water. It's sort of sad, because in another world they could have really loved one another.

Next up, it's a cute-cub hookup starring Damien Crosse and Jackson Wild, who exchange blowjobs before Damien fucks his buddy nicely. Damien works a load out of Wild, drops his own on his bottom's back, and is then shot dead in an impressive splatter of movie blood. At least he got to bust that one last nut, right?

In any case, the corn-syrup mess doesn't stop there. Jimmy Trips is shot once in the balls and once between the eyes in an outdoor tub, but not before he gives us an impressive striptease/jerkoff beneath the hot sun. This solo scene is another outdoor standout that showcases Ben Leon and Tony DiMarco's considerable strengths as videographers.

Okay, so then, death death death, blood and gore and gasoline and burning flesh, and then Ricky Sinz shoots a priest. (Stone-cold Rick!) And then...

And then it's the much-ballyhooed rape scene.

Logan McCree and Rick pin down good ol' boy Scott Tanner and give him willy! As Tanner screams and moans, pretending not to love it as his bobbing hard-on argues otherwise, the two baddies relentlessly and unmercifully pound his hole like it owed them money. But look, they're not all evil, because (1) they're considerate enough to throw on rubbers and (2) Logan reaches out a helping hand to pump out his victim's load. As far as controversies go, the hoopla surrounding this rape-scene is pretty much unfounded, because when you get right down to it, it doesn't look like rape so much as it looks like what it is - role play, safe and smoking-hot.

So, if anyone was following along this far for the plot, let me spoil it for you right now. Everybody gets shot and dies except for mean greedy villainous hot-papi rapist Ricky Sinz, who rides off into the sunset. For my part, I didn't have too much time to be sad or outraged, because I had some major clean-up to do, as well as replenish my fluids.

I'm giving this one as many stars as you can give a movie, because the folks at Raging Stallion deserve accolades for all the hard work and hard cocks they put into this movie. And I think that the ambition to weave a story in between all the hot sodomy should be applauded, while the execution begs some affectionate mockery. In any case, the truth of the matter is this:

 -- Lex Lewder