6 2 1  C O C K S

I recently rented the porno film "DALLAS 500- THE BIGGEST GANG BANG OF THEM ALL!!" 621 Cocks, No Waiting... Pretty Impressive. To date this World Record has since been broken but it seemed like enough cocks for me, at least for one sitting. The event was hosted by Jon Scaremy, one of the Last Survivors of Porn gone by, still alive and kicking when all of his peers are dead or gone. Like the Mighty John Holmes, Dead of AIDS Lo these Ten Years , Dead and Gone but his Legend lives on. His Legend and his Schlong. Lying Dead in his coffin his Withered Slim-Jim is still 3 times mine.

Jon Scaremy is the perfect host for this Cock-umentary, which is what this video was, not technically a Porno in the Purist sense. There was no plot, no "Love Interest", only a constantly moving stream of cocks going into our girl Dallas's Mouth, Ass, and Ears. She is a Pro, Dallas is, uttering nary a grunt or a gasp as she is skewered by the entire French Foreign Legion and the Cast of "Scared Straight" at the same time. Fuck Fest ? Fuck Fiesta? Jesus, This was Goddamn Fuck-Tasia.

Before the actual Gang Bang took place Scaremy interviewed some of the participants. First the "Fluffers", 10 chicks of varying looks and weight designated to service the Men, make them ready, get them up. They are all smiling and laughing, eagerly anticipating the Cocks-to-Come (they even got a free T-shirt !) Interestingly one of the girls fluffing is the Widow of the Afore-mentioned John Holmes Himself, looking a little worse for wear I guess. She must be a Devout Muslim for she was covered head to toe in a black Chador, presumably still in mourning for her Dead Beau. Invisible to the world save for a small circular mouth-like opening, just big enough for...you guessed it. Dick, Lot's o' Dick. She doesn't speak, she communicates with hand signals, the Universal Language of pointing and Seal Grunting that leaves nothing to the imagination .

Then Scaremy interviewed some of the Male Participants. Most of them looked like they just walked in off the street, like they'd just been handed a Flyer that said "THE CUNT'S IN HERE" and a neon arrow pointing the way. The Whole Line was wearing Dallas 500 T-shirts so they all had this uniformness about them as they stood there, like a Line of Fat Cackling Sperm. Scaremy's cracking jokes all the while, he works the Room, he's actually quite funny. He hasn't lost his sense of humor which is good because if he actually took a minute to think about his situation he'd probably light himself up in a Buddhist Bonfire and run screaming for the Hills. He interviews the Plumber, the Butcher, the Baker, the Skinhead, the Philosopher, all are equally glib about why they're here.

"WE WANT TO FUCK!!" They say-- Well, who could have said it better than that? These assorted mutants straight from The Accursed Planet of the Apes just want to jam their dicks into Dallas, they don't know Dallas personally and they DON'T CARE. It's the Old Caveman Ethic...Cock get Hard--Stick -into Hole--Grunt Grunt Shoot....the Alpha and Omega.

OK, the Men are ready, the Fluffers are ready AND HERE COMES DALLAS. She entered the scene driving a personalized "Dallas 500 Pace Car" of all things. These people Spared no Expense. The Car has the number 500 boldly emblazoned on the Hood like a Taunt, like a Challenge. 

One look at Dallas and you think... Cyborg. Fake tits, fake lips, fake hair, chin, etc. the skin stretched so taut across her cheekbones Dr. Phibes Himself would wince in pain. She looks like she just stepped out of the Thing-maker. Is she creepy? Oh Yes....Yes she is.

A short interview with Scaremy ensues. Dallas is excited to part of History, likening this Fucking Event to the signing of the Magna Carta or the Gettysburg Address.

The men are getting excited, there is a collective crotch-itch. And now begins the Awful Work of the Fluffers, Suck Suck Suck Drool Drool Drool, It's TIME TO GET IT UP. Take it Easy Girls, pace yourself, don't get too tired. Your job is to Orally Service 621 Total Strangers so for God's Sake SLOW DOWN.

Dallas gives one last wave to the audience, opens up her Deep Dish Pizza and the Games Begin.... 

Flat on her back on a circular table, surrounded by Hard Dicks, It began. Each participant was only allowed One Minute inside her, Pump Pump Pump-and-Pull, then on to the Next. Whenever one guy was done the next guy simply turned the table toward him and Entered, sort of like a Lazy Susan.  Whoever thought of this innovation should be commended because it really sped up the process of gang-banging. Five at a time fucked her in succession, then all finished by jacking off on her, which I found to be especially grisly, especially as the day wore on and the come became caked on, Dallas the Walking Talking Glazed Donut.

Watching the man's faces as they fucked Dallas was of particular interest to me. These were the True Believers, guys that thought that THEY AND THEY ALONE could make Dallas come. I could have rammed Stonehenge AND Winchester Cathedral up her pussy and ass Respectively and she wouldn't even blink. In fact a lot of the time these guys were concentrating on giving Dallas the Best Fuck of her Life she was giving interviews to various newsmen or smiling for photo shoots. She might as well have been watching TV or eating a sandwich. This must have lessened the Intimacy Factor and the Romance for the Men a bit, if you can call fucking some chick on a Roulette Wheel next to Four other Guys Drooling and Laughing Intimate.

There were the wanna-be Porno Hopefuls, men who saw this as their Audition into the Majors, like a Porno Gong Show. They were the most amusing of all, for you see they had "Practiced at Home".  They knew all the Angles, their Hair (all Three Patches) was coifed and combed, and of course they had the Face. I call it the Face, the Rock face, the Fuck face, what men picture Elvis would look like if he was fucking Priscilla from the Rear. And when they Came...Parabolic Trajectory, Calculated with a Slide Rule for Maximum Effect, Arch your back and RELEASE---

"NO FACIALS" Dallas giggled as she gouged a large goo-ball out of her eye socket. Ain't She Sweet?

Actually a large amount of the Men came back for Seconds, or Thirds. They wanted to make the Moment Last, over and over, proving once again that the Male Testes are an inexhaustible Organ, a goddamn Fun Factory working overtime banging out little fishes that end up on top of other little fishes that lay on top of more dead fishes, all caked and dying on Dallas' Withered Barbarella- Bags.

As I said before, men were allowed come shots at the end of their minute's fuck so after 300 or so orgasms the Playing Surface took on an almost Alien Texture, Dallas' stomach and breasts began to look Reptilian, her skin cracking and rustling when she moved, like a snake shedding it's skin. There were men who's job it was to towel her off every now and then, Rubber gloves and Windex handy-- Fuck, How does one get THIS JOB? Equivalent to a janitor at a peep show, I guess, keeping their Head down as they load up the Ump-teenth garbage bag full of Slime-Soaked Towel. Take these bags to the nearest Landfill, Dear Sirs, and BURY THEM DEEP.

After what seemed like hours Scaremy interviewed the fluffers again, who strangely enough didn't look too worse for wear (Although one fluffer had to be excused because the constant clicking of her TMJ was distracting the guests) These girls had become almost Feral in appearance, the non-stop Cock Sucking had transformed them all into She-Beasts. If allowed to roam the streets they would have torn young men apart, sucking out their brains through their adolescent slender straws. It was scary, really. They had sucked Hundreds of Cocks
and they WANTED MORE, this was Ancient Rome, this was Caligula and his Merry Men dancing on the end of a Bloody Spear, twitching in the Cool Mediterranean Night. This was a part of the Brain Not Exercised, the Hypothalamus, whatever Grey Matter it was had Grown Large and pulsed with thick Brain Blood, all other senses were submerged, Dignity, Pride, all were subordinate to the Desire to Suck Cock, a never-ending Bloody Parade of Dick. Dick all Day, Dick Dick Dick. No Food Please, No Remorse, just Bring on the Cock. Even John Holmes' Widow seemed a little out-of sorts, the hole in her chador mottled and torn, bits of saliva ( I think) caked to the sides, like candle-wax. Her tongue could occasionally be seen darting in and out of the hole , like an eel. She was reliving John, bit by bit, all the cocks she'd sucked that Day adding up to the Great God himself, the God of all Gods, the Fucker of Ten Thousand Young.

Scope and Listerine ladled out like a Depression-Era Soup Kitchen, tissues and condoms littering the floor like some Dionysian Woodstock, the Fucking carried on and on till the Final One, Scaremy himself, Number 621, entered Dallas and the countdown began 10, 9, 8, 7,.....and would you believe it he managed to shoot his wad right on the Money, like Neil Armstrong taking his first Sure Step, just like a Pro.... even I was impressed. Jon Scaremy had Carried the Torch, Jon outshines all in this Gory Spectacle.

When it was over and all the men had gone home to their wives or girlfriends or Dumpsters Dallas got back in her Pace car and drove the Long Lonely Drive Home. There she got in a hot tub surrounded by a Dozen Loofahs and for the next year or so proceeded to scrub off the billions and billions of Sperm. She scented her hair and the bathwater and she thought about all the work and the $3,000 she'd received, truly the Booby Prize in this Charade. She touched her tender crotch and ass and let the hot water soothe the inflamed tissues, both in and out, the shattered membranes, put through what no Mortal should be put through. To distinguish yourself in a field where all are debased, where self-respect is a daily issue, where Money and scruples dance hand in hand with vice This is Porno, this is what it is to be X-rated. Gone are the days of titillation and Surprise, gone are those Radio Days where imagination was the Ship you sailed and nothing could match what you saw in your Head. We want our Pop Stars to look fuckable at 15, we hoist our Jon Benet's up and point to them and say "Isn't that a Shame" but somewhere there are Men beating off to those same Tabloids, imagining all sorts of Horror in those pretty blue eyes. What sickens me is the hypocrisy in our society where we spout Family Values like a Court of Amish Priests and then behind closed doors we crank up the butt plugs till they scream. Is this mere titillation, or just a mask for License and Pedophile-like behavior? You be the judge next time you pick up a tabloid or watch a music video or buy a Barely Legal magazine or rent a particularly Heinous Porno. Ask yourself, what's missing in our lives that we have to watch this? Why do we have to watch underage boys and girls dry-humping each other or worse...Think about it next time you see something shocking and involuntarily cover your eyes, then...slowly, spread your little fingers one at a time, one millimeter at a time, because you have to watch.