Review

What Men Do?
They do a poo.
I think they do.
I haven’t a clue.

OK, so that sucked, but I’d like to see that bastard Dr. Seuss try to review porn. Anyway, Chi Chi LaRue's What Men Do really doesn’t warrant a big, heavy review because it’s just wonderful in the extreme. Chi Chi’s gathered the hottest sticks of dynamite in town, tossed in a lighted match and filmed the explosion.

Coverstar Hazzard (he of the cute tattoos and body that just won’t quit) is cementing his celebrity status with talented fuck-feats like the one here. Who’d have thought that someone “fresh off the bus” could become so polished a performer so quickly?

It’s another of the all-sex, no story cockathons Chi Chi excels at. This one finds Hazzard driving round the city, imagining the guys he sees in sleazy environments doing the kind of unwholesome activities that get us all rock-hard and destined for Hell.

First up we find our gorgeous star in a sling, caressed by gorgeous tattooed older guy (and legitimate musical theatre writer-performer) Mattox, while hairy rough skinhead Matthews looks on, stroking his rock hard prick through a bright-red jock that demands to be torn off right now. By your teeth! And I hate to say this, but in this scene Hazzard is outsexed by his fellow performers, particularly Mattox, whose permanent seductive Cheshire-Cat grin is either because he knows something we don’t, or that he’s genuinely enjoying himself. The chemistry is so obvious you can practically see the electrons firing. Mattox and Hazzard sure can suck, rim and fuck and Matthews knows how to take it like a real man. Fuck yeah!

Once you’ve changed your underwear (best to keep a three-pack nearby - you’ll need them) we are back with Hazzard cruising the streets. His monologue is just plain muck yet sets the mood for scene two: A down and dirty duo with a taste for cock - slim Hawk and tattooed stud Kicks.

I’ll admit I’ve never seen either at work before but if this is their showreel, I want more! Both drip with endorphins, and boy-howdy can these sluts inhale cock. “You’re a mighty good cock-sucker, dude!” yells an appreciative Kicks. Chi Chi is great when he directs “noisy and animalistic” with as many armpit-hair close-ups as possible. Many try and fail; he can do it in his sleep.

The spit flies everywhere as this vocal heavy, ass-slapping, dick-stretching, tongue-fucking couple turn the heat to eleven. When Ollie takes every last inch of his buddy up his tight sluthole you’ll need a fall-out shelter to avoid the blast. These guys are either serious sex-pigs or a danger to the community.

The third scene finds everyone’s favorite “what-gag-reflex?” guy Summers bringing Latino stud Diaz to a warehouse basement where his boy bitch Peters awaits, bound and gagged on a filthy mattress. It’s What Men Do, I guess. First they tease the blonde prisoner with Diaz’s fat uncut meat which Summers (showing his usual prowess) makes a sloppy feast of, getting it rock-hard and dripping wet.

The torments continue, with poor Peters almost ready to explode watching Summers slobber over the muscle stud’s dark tool. As soon as his gag is removed Peters is screaming for a taste. I was ready to call Amnesty International - that poor kid was being denied his basic human cocksucking rights!

Finally free to move, Peters leads the trio into a no-holes-barred slurp and suck session. When you see cocks swallowed from so many low angles you’ll wonder how Chi Chi managed to switch gravity off in the studio. After they’ve indulged Peters in some buttplug play, Diaz fucks both white youths, first opening them with his chunky fingers (listen for Summers’ moans, they’ll haunt your most erotic dreams) then hammering at their buttcheeks with his amazing… thing. Peters looks amazing riding it and the cumshots will astound. Summers roars so loudly you’ll think he’s sending a legion of Klingons into StoVoKor. After they collapse into an exhausted heap, consider that “boy bitch” well and truly fucked!

There’s a tea-room finale that sees Hazzard loitering with intent, and getting to grips with everyone’s favorite walking Life-Saver, Tag Adams. It’s just that as much as I love every inch of this sexy m.f. I’ve already reviewed him in four other frigging movies today, so I’m a little Tagged-out. Take a break, dude!

Adams is the initiator for once, leading our hero into some hot action by the urinals. “What can I say,” sighs Hazzard. “It’s what men do.” I was screaming “Remember George Michael!” but Adams was already on his knees sucking a dirty jock and trading slutty insults with Mr. Hazzard. Another sizzler to compliment the others, but I’d have killed for a third performer here. The two alone are great, but I was getting as greedy as the guys on-screen.

Good dirty talk and spit-swapping sessions, and with a healthy appreciation of the darker side that’s not necessarily "kink". Jolly good show all round, chaps. At least it’s given me a clearer picture of What Men Do, after all. Now I gotta find me a man!
-Froufrou A. Gogo