Screw #02 - Cut To The Chase

Screw #2 - Cut To The Chase

Part two of an outstanding two-part double header from Steven Scarborough and his hard-working highly-creative team at Hot House Video. If you like things piggish, be sure to get the Director's Cut. (Tinkle tinkle little star, how I wonder where your fists are.) Check out our highly-original (and quite lengthy) review of Screw 2: Cut to the Chase below.

Check Out the Original Screw Right To The Point

We all worshipped the first; we wore our DVDs out,
Yes, it’s true Right to the Point left us all little doubt
That adult filmmaking had at last reached its perfection
When we witnessed Hot House’s epic ‘Ode to Erection’.
With fuck scenes so brutal we swore there’s no equal
We were wrong: let me introduce its filthier sequel.

I’m awestruck that Scarborough’s talent doesn’t cease.
(He’s won so many awards he needs a third mantelpiece.)
To outdo an original is not too commonplace
So lie back and unzip and let’s Cut to the Chase...

Please don’t expect plot points or story galore
Just a gaggle of horndogs that were raised by a whore.
Indulging in all-out, wham-bam, twisted pig sex
The kind that - thank God - someone invented Kleenex.
No narrative here clouds the perverted outlook.
As le francais might say, C’est la Cinema de Fuc. There’s no boring preamble, we just dive straight in
Meeting the first of the guys in this Sex Requiem. It’s gorgeous goateed hunk Fernando Montana
And we aren’t kept waiting to see his banana.
(Oh, pur-lease, yes, cheap rhyme, don’t tell me, I know
It’s a pretty tough act to do King Lear gone homo.)
As it’s coaxed out of hiding from a yellow jockstrap
Popping straight into the mouth of one lucky chap:
It’s Tony Serrano (who you’ll remember from the original)
Blessed with a decency gland underdeveloped, vestigial.
You’ll be happy for the fact he knows backroom etiquette:
When faced with such manhood: to your knees, get it wet.
“Feed me that cock!” Tony demands, and it’s cool
Watching inch-after-inch become coated with drool.
(I wanted to joke here about conditioned-reflex
and Pavlov - but my boss ordered me to stick to the sex.) Kent Larson appears and demands he assist
Take a good look at him - like they’d say no or resist?
He’s built like a brick-shithouse, a fine specimen
The sorta guy to make this Atheist yell, “Amen!”
He’s rimmed then spit-roasted in the most vulgar of fashions
And he loves every second - all the intensity and passion.
When it comes to the pounding these guys are no slackers.
(In a previous existence both were Viking ransackers.)
Gallons of spooge end scene one’s Tribute to Sin
It’s amazing to think I’m just twenty minutes in. Dissolve to the coat-check, and what a surprise -
It’s Tag Adams - the buttslut du jour I idolize.
Cherubic, pneumatic, with no social pretension.
(Unlike some of those other bitter queens I could mention.)
The “It’s all about me”-ers with ego overloads
Who smoked so much Tina they’ve got lungs like geodes.
Washed-up and washed-out only doing bare-backing.
(You can guess which studios here I’m attacking.) But back to young Adams and the forthcoming binge
(Last word: Tag, please, don’t ever go prophylacticly-chall’ng’d.)
Zackary Pierce plays the coat-check guy stiffed for a tip
By Tag - and the anticipation is literally making me drip.
I’ll admit I’m unfamiliar with Mr. Pierce’s face
But one or two of my bodyparts I’d love his presence to grace.
He could model for the likes of Abercrombie and Fitch
But tonight he’s determined to make Tag his new bitch. Off come the clothes and my eyes began popping
Because just for a moment it looks like Tag will be topping.
But no, Zack’s in total control, and so the Littlest Pervert
Bends over to receive his three-course meal - plus dessert!
Tag may look quite innocent but looks are deceiving
Encouraging more ferocity to what he’s receiving.
And the best bit of all - it’ll make your jaw loose -
Is when Zack forces Tag to sample his own lubed-up-butt-juice.
The cum flows quite freely, settling in Tag’s hairy six-pack.
(They really should market this bit as new Porno-Prozac.) Owen Hawk, just twenty-two, is one piggy little tyke.
Who opens scene three sprawled on a stranger’s motorbike.
He’s caught by the owner - De LaHoya - who’s pissed.
And Hawk’s pleadings of innocence are quickly dismissed
By the Latino M.F. who’s all muscle and stubble
With a spark in his eyes that can only mean trouble. Luckily for us blow-job-wise Hawk is The Wiz
And I quickly forgot how odd De LaHoya’s dialect is.
Fat, thick and uncut, as it fucks Hawk’s cute face
(Before chowing down I hope he had a chance to say Grace.)
Fans of Spanish-dirty-talk will find Diego enrapturing
But I only speak English and could have used closed-captioning.
Our buff Latin stud shows he too’s a dick-diver
Covering Hawk’s cock and balls with his papi-saliva.
Rimming the white-boy he proves his tongue is no quitter
Moments later Hawk’s getting man-meat right up his shitter.
Diego’s a mad-dog, testing what Owen can take
I listened intently to try and hear his spine break. He finds himself tempted by the youngster’s pork-sword
Deciding it’s only fair to let him climb aboard.
I think of myself as a porn-connoisseur
Yet even I never expected a flip-flop to occur!
The gringo enjoys his short-lived anal conversion
But finishes off Hawk with a rubberized version
Of a cock that brings forth the hottest of hot-sauces
From this pair whose genitalia seem transplanted from horses.
It’s the end of this scene but there’s a last parting shot:
Both lap up their love-grits: Guess it’s “Waste not, want not.” Hard to believe but it’s been over an hour.
There’s still so many studmuffins we need to deflower... Say hi once again to Larson; still so horny and tough.
Evidently the cocks of two guys from Scene One weren’t enough!
He makes a beeline for the inches of his very next trick
And what, like you wouldn’t, when it’s Clay Maverick?
With one effortless gulp he swallows Clay’s love-trombone
Metaphorically giving his inner-puppy a bone. Here’s my only complaint, though it’s more a pet hate
Clay: when it comes to the oral, now and then, please reciprocate.
Not that Larson really cares; he’s not concerned with chagrin
He’s too busy grooving now that the Spanish Fly has kicked-in.
He decides that Clay’s rimjob just isn’t satisfying enough
So he takes dick and then dildo up his accommodating chuff.
Maverick pierces and thrusts like some crazed matador
And Larson’s browneye soon looks like a swing door.
A foot long sextoy coaxes the load from his dick
This scene is so dirty, I’m glad I was raised Catholic.
As Clay blows his oats I’m left with absolutely no doubt
That I love Mr. Larson (even his cute navel, which sticks out). Time’s come for the finale, and a scorcher it is.
Are you ready to drown in all the love piss? It’s the end of the night and the sex-club is closing
(With the lights on it looks a lot less imposing).
Cleaners Reed and Punk swap brooms for the other’s love-gun
And why not: I guess it makes minimum wage earning more fun.
Potty-mouth fans will swoon at Reed’s words as he’s blown
(He has a future redubbing models so bored they just moan).
Caught red-dicked and red-handed by boss Collin O’Neal
Himself heartily sick of Reed’s constant “copping-a-feel”
With co-workers when he’s got a job that needs doing.
(Pur-lease, name me one dude not obsessed with screwing!) Reed’s told to piss off. This guy O’Neal’s such a pill
He had his hands on a cock - at least they weren’t in the till!
O’Neal’s a big guy, both blondes he could’ve mastered
But picking just one makes him look like a selfish bastard.
The Bossman’s got something for Punk, and it’s not a pink slip
It’s some meat to be worshipped - gulped down whole in a zip!
Words fail to describe the majesty of this oversized cock
I feared the too-eager Punk would be struck with jaw lock. When their shirts are removed you’ll gasp at O’Neal’s torso
Tight, packed and hirsute: just my type – only more so!
They kiss and embrace, touch gently, then caress
Until Punk is bent over, then O’Neal’s tongue gets possessed
By a demon, but wait, don’t go calling a priest
You’ll kick yourself if you miss a single frame of the feast!
O’Neal rubbers up and Punk goes down on all fours
(Oh yes - this is much better than mopping the floors!)
What little sperm I had left in my nuts was depleted
This passion-play got my young self so overheated
I sweated so much, and please don’t think me a liar
For a short time there I became a one-man humidifier. When the joy juice erupts I’ve never seen it look pearlier
Maybe it got mixed in with the floor wax used earlier?
And with a kiss - it’s all over - the light begins to fade.
Wonder what would have gone down had Dason Reed stayed?
Gentlemen please, calm down, just try to relax
Take a second to wipe that stray cum from your slacks. There’s the usual fab extras - picture galleries and trailers
But I’m just too breathless to cope - where the fuck’s my inhaler?
Should butt-fucking become sport (table tennis should cease)
These guys would bring home gold medals from Greece.
Decadence and depravity has never looked so divine!
Ciao, bella - I’m off to inspect Screw 3’s audition line... But this review’s not quite over, so with no further ado
It’s time to check out the Director’s Cut Disc Two. Filled with bonus upon bonus that’ll thrill and entice
The extras will make you think Christmas came twice. We begin with a sixth scene starring goddamn sexy Morales
Paired up (for the first half) with cool and thuggy Gonzales.
When these two make eye contact, their cocks begin bloating
Lips locked, spit swapping, nipple-licking, deep-throating
Choking and rasping, salivating and gagging
Balls sucked, foreskins chewed; have I mentioned the shagging?
Carlos gasps out for more, he’s in some kind of stupor
Hardly surprising since Gonzales fucks ass like a trooper.
Snapping off his rubber he proudly let’s rip…
Splattering Morales’ buttcheeks with white-hot showmanship. Unlike us mere mortals that require smoke-breaks and rest
Apparently Morales’ pooper by the Gods has been blessed.
Climbing into a sling he wins Adam Faust’s sexual attentions
(Pretty easy when your sphincter can wink it’s intentions).
Devilish Faust gets me rock-hard and perky and twitching
(“Too much information,” I can hear my boss bitching).
Leaning over he spitshines that ass, it’s just raring to go
Loosening it up a touch first with a gargantuan dildo.
Morales is in Heaven - he knows what he likes, what he loves
His “horizons” expanded - and so it’s on with the gloves. So begins one of the reasons for Hot House existing:
How blazing they make guys look when they’re fisting.
Faust’s skill and Morales’ gluttony are worthy of gloat
The punchfucks deliver - Rocky Balboa take note!
Twenty-five minutes spent with these sex-offenders
Morales’ poor hoop looks like it’s been through a blender.
Add to this a photo gallery of Morales to explore
(for those die-hard fans that demand even more). Last but not least are two sizzling compilations
To round-off your brand new Hot House 101 educations. The first is a fifteen minute condensed mini-version
Of Disc One’s full-length tribute to anal perversion.
Re-edited, remixed, reformed and redressed
It’s as if it’s had the once-over by Reader’s Digest.
All the dirty parts remain, so we don’t miss a smidge.
It could be simply re-titled Screw 2: Version Abridged.
And we accept no responsibility for your brain overloading
At the six-minute montage of big cocks exploding.