It was just another day, in Southern California - warm, sunny, with the hint of a breeze. Just a ho hum day -- a ho hum perfect day, like the one before and the one that would inevitably follow. No one talked about the weather here. Why should they?
It was the kind of day that people in rain soaked Oregon and Washington would die for and may get sometime in the summer. (And then it would have the natives of those upper states out in numbers drinking coffee, doing Yoga and other stuff that only people with water on their brains could think of doing).
But this was February. Could this be the number one reason why more human beings on the West Coast chose to live in California than in those upper states? And forget British Columbia, because my God, eh, it was in Canada. And Alaska was even beyond BC, way up there in Palin country, where there were more moose than men and your semen froze on ejaculation, so why bother?
So, quite obviously young Ryan did not have the weather on his mind, as he made his way home in the hills above Pasadena. Some of the residents of the huge, and very private, homes that he drove past would have been surprised, maybe even shocked, if they had known what was really on the mind of this 22 year old senior at Occidental College. He had a porno DVD still in its ornate wrappings sitting on the passenger seat beside him. That was what was on his mind.
Not just any porno DVD, but a high end production, made (it was rumored) by a popular main stream Hollywood director /producer, under a pseudonym (of course; hush, shush). All the porno that this particular production company put out was full of high production values - a strong plausible plot, superb cinematography, great sound, good acting, lavish sets and at times location shooting in exotic locales. Most were parodies of main stream productions (with imaginative fucking interposed, what were you thinking?), along the lines of that 70's classic, "The opening of Misty Beethoven."
Pornographers, like for instance, everyday car drivers, or cooks, or anybody who does anything, vary from the hopeless few, to the mundane majority, to the absolutely few maestros. This pseudonymous director/producer was in the last category.
Ryan had obtained this DVD from a boutique style exclusive adult shop down in the Valley. It was expensive, but for him the money represented a mere trifle of his generous allowance. And in any case he considered it money well spent. Yes sadly, Ryan was a porn addict. The kind of young man that televangelists warn us is being led astray by America's sodden liberal culture. That culture that brought on 9/11 and which would surely lead to God destroying this country like He did Sodom and Gomorrah. And to make matters worse, Ryan was not just a mindless consumer of porn, he was a connoisseur.
That is why he had spent the time, effort and money to procure this exclusive DVD. He was going to watch it in the state of the art home theatre that his father had built in the basement of the new house that they had moved into a few months ago. This may have shocked his father who had never really dug porn. He had nothing against it, because after all he was a liberal, and like most liberals was against nothing; hated nothing. It just did not interest him. He would have been shocked because his home theatre was like a shrine to him. Here alone, or with family and selected friends, he viewed digitally mastered remakes of old movie classics as well as silent movie masterpieces. Here also were viewed long lost documentaries recording significant history, including bombastic ones from pathe∕news. But most importantly this was where his father enjoyed exclusive recordings of operas. A lot of money had gone into the visuals and much more into the acoustics, as a result of which the experience of anyone sitting anywhere in that home theatre, was akin to one sitting in the best seat in an opera house enjoying a live performance. The father was as passionate about opera as the son was about pornography. And there you have it -- a true generation gap.
The porno movie that Ryan was going to watch was a parody of 'Meet the Fockers.' It was supposed to follow the theme of the original but with heavy doses of fucking thrown in; of course. There was going to be a lot of incestuous mating, which for some reason had lately taken Ryan's fancy. Previously, the same production outfit had made a sexual parody of 'Blazing Saddles' which itself had been a hilarious send up of westerns. This was a couple of years ago when what caught Ryan's fancy was interracial sex and orgies.
Memories of that movie brought Ryan's cock to attention as he went through the security formalities at the entrance to their house. The heavy gates smoothly swung open and closed rapidly behind his car. The vehicle then traversed a long winding tree lined driveway, that effectively blocked the view from the gate, before opening suddenly onto acres of manicured space around a huge mansion.
He parked his car in his part of the mammoth garage and then disabled the alarm to allow him further entry into an empty house. His father was away on a business trip (for the lack of a better way of describing the stalking of a venture capitalist), his mother was busy at work anesthetizing the able and willing, and it was Gabriella's day off. Gabriella, who had turned up at their doorstep years ago, penniless and homeless having been abandoned by her Honduran husband, to be taken in by his liberal parents. She had rewarded them by becoming their housekeeper and cook and Ryan's nanny while he was growing up, so that his mother could go to school and later on work, secure in the knowledge that her son was safe. Gabriella, who had since acquired another husband and a family that now stayed with her in the large annex connected by an earthquake proof tunnel to the mansion.
He eagerly made his way to the home theatre, and entered through its solitary door. He then walked down the gently sloping floor of the very large room (its tubular interior, shaped to enhance acoustics) to the screen. He plugged his DVD into the cleverly hidden control panel behind the giant screen and then sat down in a luxuriously upholstered over sized chair in the first row right in the middle of the theatre. There were twenty other such chairs expansively distributed in what could loosely be called rows throughout the huge room.
He played with the remote till he got the movie started and then dropped it on the generous mahogany table attached to his chair. The movie begins with a no nonsense fuck scene between Ben Stiller's character and that of Teri Polo's. Neither bore any resemblance to the original actors, except that Teri Polo's character was indeed a true blonde with sculptured long legs. The action is hot and passionate, made more so by the use of multiple cameras and tight editing. This after all was a high end porno. And in keeping with this high end theme, the action ends without the customary penis pull out and close up of it ejaculating. The girl then tells him she is pregnant and wonders how to break it to her father who has consented to let them get married. Just as in the original movie, her father is a very conservative character. They decide to wait till they get to Miami and meet the boy's parents.
They are driven to Miami by the girl's father (playing Robert de Nero's character), a dry, crusty, and as afore mentioned, very conservative, and very suspicious ex- CIA officer. But there is a twist here not there in the original - the father fancies fucking his own daughter! This is made plain to the audience but not to the other characters in the movie. But of course he feels terribly guilty about harboring such sinful thoughts. His wife (playing Blythe Danner's character) is also very conservative and consequently very repressed, and almost subservient to her husband, but has colorful and obscene thoughts (because what the hell, conservatism be damned, this was a porno). And boy, does she have colorful and obscene thoughts! The camera focuses on her and then foggily fades out to let you know that the scene to follow is in her imagination.
She imagines she is getting fucked from behind by a huge black man with a gigantic prick. This black man is hammering her so vigorously that she has to cling on to the sheets for dear life and brace herself with all her strength to prevent being pushed off the bed. The black man then disengages his cock and walks round and puts it next to her face. She eagerly begins slurping on it. He then grabs her head and pushes it down on his engorged member almost choking her. He thrusts as much as she can take down her throat and rams it in and out a few times while she sputters and tries to accommodate the whole obscene length of it.
He then pulls out and walks leisurely back to her raised behind. He oils his prick and then without any preparation whatsoever thrusts it into her anus. She screams in agony as he yells obscenities at her but does not stop thrusting till the whole dammed thing is tightly embedded. He then draws back slowly till only the tip is in. He leans on her and reaches for her cunt with one hand while the other finds her breasts. Two fingers are introduced into her cunt and a thumb strums her clit. The other hand strokes breast and nipple. Then, with vigor, he again sheaths his prick in her rectum. A jack hammer rhythm of buggering is set up as fingers play on cunt and breast till her shrieks of agony turn into grunts of pleasure. The camera moves behind the pair to catch the black man literally riding the white woman, brawny black sinewy thighs clasping and muscularly controlling white alabaster ones. The action builds to a crescendo until with one last powerful thrust, he comes. There is so much stuff emitted that it flows back past the tightly embedded penis and the camera catches it leaking out on to her thighs and dripping onto the bed.
A bump in the road shakes her out of her reverie and she glares balefully at her husband before woefully settling down in her seat.
They reach the boy's parents' plush house on a small exclusive island off Miami. The father looks nothing like Dustin Hoffman - he is a large guy, but moves with the energy of Dustin Hoffman's character and you know he packs a mammoth organ because this is a porn movie and somewhere along the line he is going to be pronging someone with it. But the Barbra Streisand character is uncannily similar to a younger Barbra Streisand. She looks like Barbra and has the quirkiness and natural ebullience of the original character.
Next, they are all taken for a tour around the house and then shown their rooms by the boy's parents. The boy and girl of course immediately start fucking. Another very well filmed sequence follows. This time the girl is on her knees and elbows most of the time, rapturously getting fucked. And yes, she takes it up the ass (this particular director had a fondness, almost a fetish for butt fucking, and apart from incest, Ryan was at this point in time very much into sodomy). Unbeknownst to the fucking couple, the girl's father stands and watches the whole sequence through a partially open door, shamelessly fondling his cock. His wife watches him watching them, but cannot gather the courage to confront him and just turns and quietly walks away.
Meantime, the boy's mother (a sex therapist like in the original movie) is taking one of her clients through his paces. They have just finished a short period of yoga and meditation. He is now stretched out prone on a soft massage table while she works on his muscles. She alternates between gentle almost imperceptible rubs and very vigorous kneading. All the while she talks to him. Telling him he has these knots in his muscles, but they are really knots in his brain, preventing him from living up to his full sexual potential. This is a silver - grey haired guy, so wrinkled that it is difficult to estimate whether he has more skin hidden in crevices than in those ridges that are exposed.
The boy in the meantime is done butt fucking his bride to be and is out and about roaming through the house trying to find his mother. He wants her advice on how best to break the news of his wife-to-be's pregnancy to his father-in-law-to-be. He walks down to the basement, to her "office" which is actually on a cliff looking out over the ocean. He gets to the door just as she is asking the old geezer to turn over.
The old boy is of course completely naked, a point which may have escaped the viewer's attention, what with all the talking and massaging going on. He turns over and is sporting a massive erection. The wrinkled old fart has a huge cock (this is a porn movie folks) which is proudly throbbing in its tumescence.
"Oh, Freddie," she says," you gorgeous man. See what you can do when you put your mind to it." He smiles and folds his hands behind his head and waits.
She rubs scented oil on her hands and then reaches for his prick running her hands efficiently up and down his substantial erection. Then she takes her hands off and starts licking his prick. She works her tongue over every inch of that pole, teasing and stimulating it. Then she takes it into her mouth and gradually starts to swallow it and does not stop till she gets to the root. She pauses, and the old fart grabs her head and starts to move her head up and down on his prick. Passively, she lets him use her face. He then takes his hands off her head and reaches for her breasts under her flowing robe, and starts to massage them. She now steps back and quickly takes off the robe and is completely naked.
Turning back to the table she climbs up and mounts the old boy, sinking with a sigh of pleasure on his prick with the camera zeroing in on her perfect buttocks. She then starts to gyrate energetically while he reaches up and captures her breasts. He starts massaging them vigorously and tweaks her nipples till it is obvious to the most unobservant viewer that those nipples are erect, so turned on is she with the old boy's technique. She shouts out her encouragement in her best sex therapist tones, "Ram me, hammer me, I am your goddess, I am your whore, give it to me, yes, yes." And gives it to her he does!
