Porno..

rooster_teeth

War Hero
Noticed Spaz had mentioned some quality 90s grot on another thread that got me misty eyed!

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0293934/

Not heard of ‘Stop! My Ass is on Fire!’ for donkey's years, for the uninitiated it was a classic series of straight forward, plotline thin quality grot that proudly propagated rough and prolonged botty sex as the new 'in thing', it was right up there with Hustlers fcuking jaw dropping Barely Legal series 1 – 130, a high quality, knuckle whitening affair on VHS tape that I witnessed near grown men fight over, it was another era straddling collection of game changing high end grumble that as far back as the mid 90s was firing out richly coloured films devoid of comedy dubbing and complete with a real time professional soundtrack, enormous beauty pageant style hairdos and 18 year old, tan lined and high heel sporting birds that were still wearing a bit of bikini friendly but well maintained lady fur, awesome stuff and all in amongst some fearsomely dire but genuinely p*ss funny plot lines, downside was that they came with the obligatory and lengthy, unhurried close ups of desperately concentrating male faces, bronzed and hairy man ass and pendulous scrotums driving their junk home and all interspersed with humorous and much imitated bits of scripted dialogue that sometimes put you right off your stroke, sometimes leaving you with just 2 options, either ride out the current scene full of bonk dialogue or attempt to maintain your reasonably solid state by quickly squeezing the blood filled base of your pan handle whilst furiously fishing around your immediate surroundings with your free hand for the remote control to fast forward to a more agreeable sequence.

It was a classic time though of turbo hetero male porn names as well, Dale Dabone, Brian Surewood, Herschel Savage and (my personal favourite) Randy Spears, it earned me an elbow delivered dig in the ribs once off her when I spat out ‘Randy Spears’ as my name to the receptionist booking us in one night at a hotel in Grassington that we stayed in after I slowly dragged/carried and encouraged her over Helvellyn to a soundtrack of constant moaning, I wouldn’t of minded but it was her idea to go for a wander, borne of a sense of guilt of doing nothing at weekends she moaned at me to find something appropriate to do, she stormed off once after 5 minutes at an indoor climbing wall after piling in repeatedly and then got a major sad on the weekend after when I wouldn’t let her win at squash. Anyhow I suggested a bit of a walk one weekend and hinted at a bit of mutual hip bashing in a hotel after, we partly succeeded in our aim in that we finished the walk but instead of some steamy hotel/intertwined in the shower sex action post yomp I chose to sit downstairs with a 3 day old copy of the Daily Telegraph and steadily drank all of the hotels supply of red After Shock and most of their bottles of Budweiser, many hours later after getting my head down I found myself being steered firmly back into our room by her after I had apparently slipped out, completely bollocky whilst still fast asleep and started leisurely p*ssing in the corridor.

Anyway I digress, the first 'Stop my Ass is on Fire' tape we passed round the room was in its actual original case (a rarity in the block if I remember right) with a leggy brunette bongo merchant called Jasmine St Claire on the cover, down on her knees, resplendent in red thigh high boots with her face pressed hard and side on down into the floor looking over her shoulder and expertly working the doe eyed and frightened look. To complete the image her bare arse was sticking up high and proud with a badly super imposed colour image of some very angry flames that were scarily reminiscent of the burning Kuwaiti Oil Field photos of GW1 fame spewing out from her hoop.

As was standard with any half decent skin flick that was rapidly doing the rounds it disappeared into thin air in that ‘porno roulette’ game you play in the block where tentatively lending out your finest skin flicks could result in you never seeing it again, which, as in my case left me short of primo shuffle material and that eventually found me having to fish out my own trusty 'old faithful' bit of grumble, a battered old tape with a grey blank sticker on it I had bought in school years earlier for a fiver and a flint less Zippo lighter with a Metallica badge on the front that I’d found in a derelict hospital we used to fcuk about in (well I say ‘fcuk about’, it was being prepped for demolition so we had immense fun at 14 sneaking in through the fence line and, whilst completely hidden in various positions on different floors and shielded from view throwing chunks of masonry at the sole portacabin on site that housed the 2 near octogenarian security guards who would huff and puff like fcuk up and down the many empty floors searching in vain for us until we got either got bored and snuck off to cause bother elsewhere or had ensnared them into chasing us around the entire site as if in some Ealing comedy.)

My ‘old faithful’ contained 2 full hours of the typical of period grainy British porn, all wobbly camera work and bad sound and with a seriously off putting and continual off camera 'cockney geezer' type commentary throughout, between the lead dick swinger and the cameraman they filled the tape pretty consistently with near identical in content, hotel based single set pieces of a grubby 40 something black bloke in baggy multi coloured tracksuit bottoms, a vest and a comedy pony tail called Omar who sported a hugely impressive penis pretending to pick up random howlers on the streets of London with just a bit of cheeky small talk, after a quick cut scene to them sat in a moving black cab with Omar gleefully rubbing their porky thighs they were then poised to begin, stood in silence in what looked suspiciously like a Forte Hotel room where he then simply rutted away for 20 minutes pausing only to flip, twist, turn and manoeuvre the clearly bored gronk, lathered in heavy makeup and sporting 10 square foot of decorative stretch marks and who close to the end grimaced as if having a flu jab in the eyeball when Omar spat out his stringy white offering over their upturned grinner’s.

Shame though, internet porn is a complicated minefield and you can spend more time looking for something satisfactory to tug along too than pulling on your pud itself! I miss those halcyon days when a straight forward girl/girl scene or a bit of euro double penetration would satiate your NAAFI break shuffle needs, now I can’t even raise a smile unless some birds asrehole is being stretched to the size of a fruit bowl and is being spat into by a succession of what look like World of Warcraft players or if its something like a very dodgy and borderline legal video of a questionably aged teen crying her eyes out taking on a roomful of old men completely bareback, in all holes and being slapped about continuously with the soundtrack from Frozen on in the background drowning out her cries.

What were your porn highs and lows?
 
Last edited:
Brian Surewood,

Quality name, that. :-D
 

verticalgyro

MIA
DirtyBAT
We took over Corry Street (hohoho a "street" full of Corimecs) at the TOM Factory, Gornji Vakuf from another Squadron whose home base was in Der Vaterland and were thus overqualified to procure honking minging porn, the kind that only desperate women would "star" in if their country was being fucked about in a horrible three sided war of ethnic cleansing.

Which happily, it was.

This was 98/99, on the cusp of the digital tomorrow of Porn, and therefore half of it was on VHS and the other half on CD-ROMS which would happily play on your PlayStation (no numbers, it was just a PlayStation) providing you had bought some gizmo from the dude in Sarajevo that plugged into the back of it.

I recall a particularly unsavoury "movie" which involved a hirsute woman being brutally whipped by a trio of Slav faced gentlemen until her skin resembled a badly burned waffle that had been dipped in Raspberry Jam. Once they had whipped her sufficiently, they took it in turns to receive a gobble off her whilst the second gent rubbed salt from a large shaker of the type usually found in Transport Cafés into her welts and the third wheel idly stroked his tumescent piece until it was his turn either at the salted end or the mouth end.

There were other genres, including a remarkably good copy of the original and best Animal Farm as not screenwritten by George Orwell, and a whole selection of "Schulmädchen Nr. 1-12" which had women of questionable age (ie. not one of them was a day under 40 and most were 40 stone plus) dressed in ridiculous Schoolgirl outfits complete with the normal uniform accoutrements of crotchless knickers and peephole bras (which is, of course, the legal requirement for Schoolgirls in many schools of the Reich).

Unhappily for me, on leaving GV I had unwisely left my Bergan unattended whilst popping to the NAAFI for my fortieth sleeve of Embassy Number Ones to squash into my North Face grip, and my room"mate" slipped the whipping VHS into the sidepouch. I got through Brize alright, situation normal the Snowdrops were too lazy to turn up and check our kit, but when I finally unpacked my Bergan a week later in the kitchen of my quarter it popped out and skittered across the floor, resting against the foot of the cooker, which raised an eyebrow from my Hausfrau as she held it up. As the label had nothing on it apart from a big XXXXX in red marker pen, I spotted immediately which one it was and threw it in the bin whilst mumbling something about those nobhead jokers in my Sqn.

I wish I had kept it now, it was terribly unique.
 

rooster_teeth

War Hero
This was 98/99, on the cusp of the digital tomorrow of Porn, and therefore half of it was on VHS and the other half on CD-ROMS which would happily play on your PlayStation (no numbers, it was just a PlayStation) providing you had bought some gizmo from the dude in Sarajevo that plugged into the back of it.
We used a deserted building as a PB in Kosovo for a few weeks, after slinging up a kitbag full of dirt in one of the upstairs rooms and adding some improvised weights to it to serve as a gym we then rigged up a TV and a PlayStation in the far corner, a very amusing but perpetually grubby scouse lance jack would spend an hour or so each night when everyone other than those on various types of stag were in gonk bag city, sat in the dimly lit room rubbing his glans to locally sourced and computer friendly grumble discs using the makeshift punch bag to block direct line of sight from the door, I remember a million things whilst serving that still make me cry with laughter but climbing up onto the ground floor roof and watching him dive and stumble around scrambling for his modesty after banging like fcuk on the window just at his point of shooting a load will remain with me forever.
 
Last edited:
I made my own porn flick once. Full on hardcore, artistically shot, mixed with music and everything. The bird did anal but I banged her too hard and broke her hoop.

Anyway, I left the DVD on a shelf and thought nothing else of it, until I returned home one night to find my girlfriend at the time white as a sheet and a closeup of my poo covered shaft on the screen.

Good times.
 
The first time I watched porn on DVD was a revelation. "Out takes" are fucking ace. Watching a whores gag reflex fail and vomit her meagre lunch over an engorged cock is comedy gold.
 

rooster_teeth

War Hero
The first time I watched porn on DVD was a revelation. "Out takes" are fucking ace. Watching a whores gag reflex fail and vomit her meagre lunch over an engorged cock is comedy gold.
There's an amusing out take on a certain website, a beautiful bird pushes her face into a male co-stars stretched asrehole and starts eating him out, he then quacks out a fart sending her mental trying to whack him then storming around in disgust. Good lad.
 

admin vortex

Clanker
Saw a couple of randomly disturbing porn vids in Bosnia. If I remember rightly they were bought from the wooden hut outside the hospital at sipovo. One was a blank dvd with the words DOG FUCKER in blue marker pen dawbed on it. Don't know what possessed us but it was not in the slightest bit erotic. (There was one particularly well trained Alsatian. ) the padre once walked in whilst we were all stood watching the fucking thing. He didn't say a word. Stayed too long , then walked out. The other will haunt me forever....
It was in a pink box with the words xxxsexyal deviantxxxx in yellow and a photo of a fat naked woman looking frightened.

The first scene was 5 blokes and 2 women. All get naked, normal so far. Couple of handjob/blowjob actions from the women and then one of the blokes whilst getting a blowjob from a chunky woman with long blonde hair, gets a pair of scissors and starts cutting her hair off. Just hacking at it and giving the other blokes handfuls of hair to wank with (like you do) then when she starts looking like a mutilated leukaemia patient. One of the other blokes gets a set of clippers and shaves her head. To a sort of messy blade 1 all over. Blowjobs all round then shaving foam on her napper. They each have a bic and shave her nut bald, shaving nicks the works. Quick rub with a towel and then they all take it in turns to cum on her newly bald head. She then looks at the camera like she's gonna cry, rubs the cum all over her head pretending to enjoy it. Her mate then comes over and kisses her like they are being forced at gunpoint. (Which to be fair is more than likely.) it was fucking weird. It went downhill from there.

Again, there was nothing remotely erotic about it but it got played to death as a weird, morbid curiosity. We were convinced that one of the participants was one of the dhobi wallers at banja luka.
 
Opened this topic and saw the Save the Children ad in the RH column. I'm probably very wrong for chortling out loud...
 

Boris_Johnson

ADC
Moderator
DirtyBAT
My VHS porno-journey came to a somewhat abrupt end on my second tour in NI when ***** (the fucking creature) decided to take things to the extreme.

In our newly constructed 'temporary' blocks, there were a series of newly furnished 3-man rooms, with the odd bunk dotted amongst them for the super-grots / senior Cpls. I was sharing with ***** and some other bloke who's name escaped me because he slept all the time.

How he managed to get so much maggot-time escapes me, because I'd be lying on my pit when the all-too-familiar groaning would begin from *****'s corner. 90% of the time, I'd find myself wandering over to get a sample viewing of "Merlin's Mind of Magic", or "Freaks of Nature".

During the final episode however, I'd perched myself in *****'s corner of the room on my recently purcahsed inflatable armchair (they were all the rage back then, til they deflated two days later of course). And it all seemed promising.

Fit birds, check. Good lady-garden admin, check. No dubbing, check. Haf-decent soundtrack, check. Thin plot line, check. Obligatory balloon-knot penetration, check. All was good in the porno corner.

Then something strange happened.

The woman getting the good news, had until now, been softly murmuring in her German dialect, "Ya... ya... oh.. yaaa..." as she took his meaty treat deep into her ricker. And this continued, interspersed with the odd clip of the well-endowed gent licking his lips, eyes closed, humping away as his rhythm begun to slow.

The camera then zoomed in close to her tea-towel holder, and as the gent slowed to a halt, half-in, half-out - her anus appeared to swell like someone had just attached one of them inflatable rings to a compressed air pump. Then came the much louder and much slower "Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...." as the guy pushed in once more, and on his withdrawal came out matted in shit.

To make matters worse, I was eating at the time.

It didn't stop there though - eventually he pulled out entirely, and she continued to pump out her chocolate logs. And just when it couldn't get any more disgusting, he then pushed his cock back in. After a while, there was shit everywhere and as much as I couldn't look any more - Instead I looked at ***** who was fucking loving it. For the right or wrong reasons? Who knows.

All I know is that it put me off porn for a while.
 
On a cross pol on the Dutch ship HMLS Van Amstel, late 90's. First time I had witnessed scat. URRGGHH! morbid curiosity. A fat bird letting rip an explosion of brown lava in to a fit asian bird's mouth, followed by pass the mouth parcel with the rest of the cast. Goping. After that it was a fancy dress casino night where the black members of the ships company dressed as slaves. The yanks on exchange did'nt find it funny mind you. Then dishco danshing with the shexy ladies, fossball, and pish love.
 
Watching a German porno in the Cpl's mess at Hamm, it had three midgets and a monstrously fat Frau who was well oiled up. I have never laughed so much before or since. It was so funny it qualified more for "you've been framed" than porno.
 
never bothered with VHS, just slightly before my era, which was 6 foot of traditional grumble piled in the grot shitters and then straight on to DVDs
 
We took over Corry Street (hohoho a "street" full of Corimecs) at the TOM Factory, Gornji Vakuf from another Squadron whose home base was in Der Vaterland and were thus overqualified to procure honking minging porn, the kind that only desperate women would "star" in if their country was being fucked about in a horrible three sided war of ethnic cleansing.

Which happily, it was.

This was 98/99, on the cusp of the digital tomorrow of Porn, and therefore half of it was on VHS and the other half on CD-ROMS which would happily play on your PlayStation (no numbers, it was just a PlayStation) providing you had bought some gizmo from the dude in Sarajevo that plugged into the back of it.

I recall a particularly unsavoury "movie" which involved a hirsute woman being brutally whipped by a trio of Slav faced gentlemen until her skin resembled a badly burned waffle that had been dipped in Raspberry Jam. Once they had whipped her sufficiently, they took it in turns to receive a gobble off her whilst the second gent rubbed salt from a large shaker of the type usually found in Transport Cafés into her welts and the third wheel idly stroked his tumescent piece until it was his turn either at the salted end or the mouth end.

There were other genres, including a remarkably good copy of the original and best Animal Farm as not screenwritten by George Orwell, and a whole selection of "Schulmädchen Nr. 1-12" which had women of questionable age (ie. not one of them was a day under 40 and most were 40 stone plus) dressed in ridiculous Schoolgirl outfits complete with the normal uniform accoutrements of crotchless knickers and peephole bras (which is, of course, the legal requirement for Schoolgirls in many schools of the Reich).

Unhappily for me, on leaving GV I had unwisely left my Bergan unattended whilst popping to the NAAFI for my fortieth sleeve of Embassy Number Ones to squash into my North Face grip, and my room"mate" slipped the whipping VHS into the sidepouch. I got through Brize alright, situation normal the Snowdrops were too lazy to turn up and check our kit, but when I finally unpacked my Bergan a week later in the kitchen of my quarter it popped out and skittered across the floor, resting against the foot of the cooker, which raised an eyebrow from my Hausfrau as she held it up. As the label had nothing on it apart from a big XXXXX in red marker pen, I spotted immediately which one it was and threw it in the bin whilst mumbling something about those nobhead jokers in my Sqn.

I wish I had kept it now, it was terribly unique.

The senior tom in my corimec in BLMF had managed to find a hardcore grot game for his Playstation from the CD shacks outside the gate.
Fit bird (who looked suspiciously like one of the CD bints) would walk in to the room on screen and you'd have to use the controller to use various items to 'turn her on'. Starting with hands, feathers, lips and tongue to get her going. When you got her horny enough she'd take off a bit of kit.
Once nekkid you'd get extra items to use, dildos and such until the game culminated in you shooting your muck over her. Any wrong move at any point would send her horniness level down and you'd have to get her going again.
I've seen similar games online since then but I've never seen alive action one, and especially not one for playing on a games console.
Senior corimec tom would spend hours on that game and most Sundays would be interspersed with yells of "fucking bitch whore" as his horny 'date' would put her bra back on after he mistakenly tickled her nipples with a feather instead of stroking her thighs.
 

rooster_teeth

War Hero
I have posted this before but one night 90% of the population of the block were gearing up for a Thursday night in town, it was unusual, usually we'd have to hunt people down and coerce/force them to throw on some trapping rig whether skint or not but it was pretty much all hands on deck that night. After pulling on my cherry red Armani shirt and black jeans I greased my unruly mop of hair and went searching for Brian. Brian, or 'fatty Bri' in an ironic reference to him weighing about 3 stone wet through and standing at full stretch a lofty 5"4 was a legend, let himself down a bit when he arrived at our front door by immediately going AWOL, nerves got the better of him and he avoided being locked up by the skin of his teeth, he got some grief but his sense of humour and hard to dislike demeanour won us round, also watching them little legs of his powering away under a bergan was always a winner for me, more so when a GPMG was swinging around whilst hanging off his pigeon chest. Unlucky for him though he had a cousin called McHale in another coy, a rampant thief and all round nasty tour dodging cnut who was mysteriously fished out of some pub toilets by paramedics one Saturday night after taking an absolute hammering and requiring a lengthy hospital stay, even when he reappeared weeks later one Monday morning for scran he still looked like he'd gone 12 rounds with Tong Po.

Anyhow Bri was a little star and I loved him, he had agreed to come out but only if I subbed him £50, bearing in mind we'd been paid just the week before. Knowing that I'd have to chase the money for ages I secured the debt by taking his Gucci stereo with neon blue side lights down the side and CD/Mini Disc combo to my pit before stuffing my almost relic like stereo under my pit.

After a 10 minute spot squeezing session followed by an application of half a litre of Joop! to my neck and forearms I nipped downstairs and walked into the 6 man room that housed the little chap. From the far end of the multi partitioned room heavy metal music thundered away loud enough for even my big gob to be unheard so after shouting him 2 or 3 times I strode on before turning sharp left into his grot. There he was, resplendent on his massive beanbag wearing fcuk all but a miserable looking erection and a St Christopher round his neck (it was the 90s after all).

As he dived up and danced about blustering like fcuk I grabbed a pussers towel off the floor and went for a whip at his cock but paused to have a butchers at the TV screen, in retrospect the content isn't as shocking now as it was then but he'd been happily tugging away in an unlocked room to the protracted scene of a frail woman who couldn't have been any younger than 80 making sweet love with a succession of gentleman who were either in the queue for a go on her yawning gash or were perched around her having a bit of chat whilst keeping a bit of lead in their own pencils stroking away as if waiting for a bus. It was soft, gentle and all very polite. He said the entire tape was pretty much the same, pensionable aged women taking on all comers, one scene in particular had all the blokes wearing party masks and there was food out on tables in the background as if they were at a fcuking wedding! This was just before the emergence of bukkake and the world record attempts by various female bongo performers to see who could cram in as much meat in 24 hours as possible.

Naturally I borrowed fatty Brian's porn vid for purely research purposes.
 
Last edited:
The senior tom in my corimec in BLMF had managed to find a hardcore grot game for his Playstation from the CD shacks outside the gate.
Fit bird (who looked suspiciously like one of the CD bints) would walk in to the room on screen and you'd have to use the controller to use various items to 'turn her on'. Starting with hands, feathers, lips and tongue to get her going. When you got her horny enough she'd take off a bit of kit.
Once nekkid you'd get extra items to use, dildos and such until the game culminated in you shooting your muck over her. Any wrong move at any point would send her horniness level down and you'd have to get her going again.
I've seen similar games online since then but I've never seen alive action one, and especially not one for playing on a games console.
Senior corimec tom would spend hours on that game and most Sundays would be interspersed with yells of "******* bitch whore" as his horny 'date' would put her bra back on after he mistakenly tickled her nipples with a feather instead of stroking her thighs.
I remember a lad getting something like that onbard a while back. It was ninja and you had to be patient. Just a bunch of clips basically. Back in the days when HC grot was still rare (unless you were ini a foreign port). Half way through a deployment lads just wanted to watch normal films after porn overload. Magazines would be found discarded everywhere, especialy the over heads. There would then be an amnesty by the Joss on return to UK.
 
My VHS porno-journey came to a somewhat abrupt end on my second tour in NI when **** (the ******* creature) decided to take things to the extreme.

All I know is that it put me off porn for a while.
You have just described one of my work colleague's sexual fantasies! Perhaps worryingly, he is married to a Det Sgt who works in a police sexual offences/domestic violence unit...

[mod edit]
 
never bothered with VHS, just slightly before my era, which was 6 foot of traditional grumble piled in the grot shitters and then straight on to DVDs
At 28 Sigs LAD, the recce mech was custodian of a fuck off great bag of Betamax porn, we had the only available Betamax machine and suffered zero grot theft. We had a female EME who would send the Q man to check before coming into the tent. There was very little for us to do on a NORTHAG Sigs exercise except stag on and masturbate.
 

Boris_Johnson

ADC
Moderator
DirtyBAT
You have just described one of my work colleague's sexual fantasies! Perhaps worryingly, he is married to a Det Sgt who works in a police sexual offences/domestic violence unit...

This Gilly of which you speak, was he perchance an RAF Sgt Loadmaster on Puma's and/or Wessex?
He was REME.

That will come as no surprise to many on this site. We have something of a reputation for deviancy ...but even I have limits! I'm sure @Taff49 will have a couple of belters up his sleeve for this thread :-D
 

Top