In Titan Media's latest, Laid Up, all those doctor fantasies you've had - the rectal examination, the sports injury, the horny interns, the accommodating male nurse, the intimidating doctor and the catheter as sex toy - come vividly to life. In five handsomely photographed, heatedly performed loops, seamlessly codirected by Brian Mills and Harold Creg, 10 rugged men go at each other as though their lives depended on it in realistic settings, replete with appropriate garb and all sorts of fascinating medical paraphernalia.
The first vignette focuses on a proctological examination and features burly Matt Sizemore as a patient who has been having some problems "down there" and youthful, hairless Core Andrews as a young Dr. Kildare-type who apparently treats his patient's ass a bit too roughly. In retaliation, the irate patient turns on him and punishes him with a double-positioned fuck, first doggie and then missionary. Sizemore is a big bear of a man who fucks with a great deal of power, and Andrews proves to be a willing receptacle. His boyish butt is especially striking, and he fires off his load while plugged. As for Sizemore, he drops two syrupy loads during the course of the proceedings. Most like a one-act play of all the loops in this film, the scene's dialogue setup is well handled, the setting and props (particularly the rectal dialator and the stirrups) are well used, and the playlet has a clever twist ending.
In the second sequence, the ebony demi-god Rob Collins checks the x-rays of football player Jim Turner and then moves in for a hands-on therapy. Collins has one of the most perfectly sculpted bodies in the Titan stable, and the camera caresses his musculature in shot after shot of worshipful adoration. Collins is one helluva performer as well - a superb deep-throat artist who makes Turner's dick disappear the first time he ingests it. And speaking of dicks, Collins' own deep purple shaft is a sight to behold. His no-handed insertion shots are particularly effective, and both his money shots are copious. (P.S.: He eats his own cum, too.)
Newcomer Turner, a stocky, super-butch bottom with black hair, a rugged peasant face and body, a stubble of five o'clock shadow, a piercing hidden just behind his scrotum, and a strategically placed bandage above his right eyebrow, is the find of the film. In a deep, blue-collar voice, he begs to be used, both orally and anally, without losing one iota of his masculinity. And Collins certainly obliges him, face fucking him upside down off the side of the examining table (among a variety of other oral positions) and skewering him in a riveting squat fuck (among a variety of other anal positions). But the apex of the scene is Turner's second ejaculation while riding Collins to glory. A moment later, he lifts off and talks Collins to orgasm number two with a focused intensity that is almost frighteningly explosive. (A note to the powers that be at Titan Media. Hold onto this one and put him under lock and key or at least an exclusive contract.)
This scene is a hard act to follow, and what comes next is something of a disappointment. In it, nurse Collins and patient Mark Reed, a furry, middle-aged man, go at it with a certain amount of enthusiasm, and Collins teases Reed's asshole by rubbing his shaved head against it. But the action pales in comparison to what we have just seen.
Things perk up considerably in the following sequence, in which two young interns, baby-faced Christopher Michaels and goateed Billy Knight, sneak away to a supply room for a midshift tryst. Both in an out of their blue-green scrubs, the two are equally skilled cocksuckers. They lick, slather,and suck each other with seemingly genuine enthusiasm, and the viewer should pay especial attention to the quivering, almost vibrating flesh in Michaels right thigh as he is being serviced. Both are well hung, but Michaels' long, rampant rod, in particular, is a memorable sight - it seems more appropriate for a stallion than for his lean, boyish physique.
In time, the two are caught by an irate physician, the sultry, no-nonsense Michael Vincenzo, who decides to punish them for shirking their duty - and you can imagine how. This is an explicit film, after all. Both Michaels and Knight kneel to service him orally, almost competitive in their attempts to chow down and pleasure him. The first round of money shots is highlighted by an almost pyrotechnical shower of spooge from Vincenzo. It demands instant replay.
Then they get around to the anal, but first Vincenzo orders Michaels to get out some strips of gauze bandaging, with which he trusses up the cocks and balls of the two interns and then uses the strips like reins controlling a pair of unruly horses. Both erotically and visually, it is quite a sight. And, of course, he fucks both of them. The high point of the scene, however, is a chain fuck - Vincenzo into Michaels into Knight - with several memorable undershots.
The final vignette, a short after piece, features grizzled Steve Parker (wearing an eye patch as if he were an X-rated version of the old Hathaway shirt ads) and another impressive newcomer, Billy Matthews. Here, Parker demonstrates the kinky pleasures of using a chromium tube called a "sound," which he sterilizes, lubes and eases down into his urethra. As he explains it, the sensation is like jacking off from the inside out. Watching the thermometer-like tube slide just beneath the skin down to the base of his dick is mesmerizing, disconcerting, breathtaking. The sequence ends with a more conventional double jerk off - we hope the handsome, well-endowed Matthews will do more in his next time out, but we can hardly blame him for being upstaged in this instance by such an awesome adventure in kink.
We caution the viewer to check his medical insurance before watching Laid Up, since he may well go into cardiac arrest at virtually any given moment during the tape's two-hour-plus running time.
- Jerry Douglas