Jason Andrews

Four Hours of men touching, tasting, licking, sucking, fucking and cumming - all within earshot of pounding waves and the salty mist of the sea! Two DVDs totaling over four hours of some of the wettest sex from 16 of our best selling titles.

"I love big dicks, and I cannot lie!" -- Any objections to that? Didn't think so ... and so to help fuel your fantasies, Falcon has opened the vaults to bring you the finest collection of the industry's longest, thickest and juiciest cocks. You've got 36 -- count 'em -- 36 of the most noteworthy Falcon cocks from the likes of horse-hung studs Tom Steele, Dick Masters, Rick Donovan and Chad Douglas -- plus the legendary John Holmes -- to newbie superstars Chad Hunt and Barrett Long! 16 Massive Cock scenes crammed onto 3 Discs.

Polk Street wants you to start pokin' around in someone's back street, and this tape will show you where to begin.

Gay love has never been so intimately portrayed as in this boners in boxers blockbuster.

Full Length Hardcore Feature

Tony just lives to eat ass and while he's in San Francisco he tries to get as many as he can.

Ever been so hungry for hole you can taste it? Tony is and Jason feels the hunger in his tongue as they get into a deep rimming experience. Then Adam, Bob, John and Harry share very intense ass eating moments at a party in NYC. Incredible close-ups of long tongue-in-hole scenes.

His stardom belied his sexuality. As a matter of fact, the only thing truly clear about Ted Shane was his bodyguard, Mac. It was Mac's job to "hide" the country club sex incident. The tennis instructor indiscretion. And, of course, the episode with the producer. Jim Steel will hide none of it. Join him in a sizzling look at superstar sex and its consequences. Under wraps? Not any more.

It's - you guessed it - the all-fag version of the Bette Davis movie with a remarkably similar name. The script manages to rip-off verbatim almost every memorable line of dialogue to be found in the original. The result is a dung-heap of cheap sentiment gaudily laced with equal parts semen and hair-gel.

The other day a guy asked me if I wanted to get "splattered?" I figured we were going for cocktails. But by the time the fourth man-load shot across my face I guessed that drinks were out of the question. "Thanks," I said, as I landed a juice bomb of my own all over his ankles. "Sure," he said, and he reached for his socks.