‘Massage Creep 27’: Now with Less Creepy
You can kind of see the point of the Massage Creep movies. I mean, after all, if it were your job to touch people?s bodies, I get how there would be an overwhelming urge to just get in there and really start groping. Given how often people whose jobs don’t even involve touching people at all, let alone doing it naked, end up groping and grabbing and fucking, it?s surprising that massage therapists aren?t a featured exhibit in the #MeToo museum. Or maybe real life really is like porn, and all massages do end up with hot oily sex. I don’t know — I’ve never paid for a massage; it occurs to me now that I may really have been missing out. Would’t it be great if Massage Creep 27? and all its predecessors were more documentary than straight up porn?
Natalie Porkman, who looks just enough like her celebrity namefake that you can squint and think about Princess Amidala sucking cock on a massage table, looks great with drool running down her chin and a dick pistoning in and out of her mouth. Frankly I expected more creepiness than there is in this scene, but it didn’t materialize, which is okay by me because I don’t really love movies where women get tricked or forced into things by creepy dudes anyway. It’s just a pretty straightforward porn scene that happens to take place on a massage table. Natalie is really cute, which goes a long way for me — she’s got short hair, which I like, small, firm tits, which I also like, and she makes a lot of eye contact with the camera, which everyone likes — but there’s not much context, and even though I just said that I don’t like the creepy stuff, I kind of wish there were a little more creepy stuff. Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself; I am large, I contain multitudes.
Ella Cruz is a sleek little Latina who looks good to start with and even better oiled down and fucking. She’s got nice C-cup tits, black hair, a shaved pussy, and nice tan lines. She’s vocal, horny, and she can take a pounding, all of which make for a good porn scene. Given that she was the one who started the massaging — we begin in media res with her dealing out an oily handjob — she didn’t need any massage creeping at all; in fact, I wonder if she was the one who started the creeping. Neither you nor I would need any convincing or trickery to let her get to what she wants, which is cock, and neither of us would regret her attentions, especially if she let us blow our loads on her face.
Charlotte Cins has, and I cannot stress enough that I mean this in a good way, a slutty face. There are, of course, things that you can look at on a woman and feel like they’re pretty reliable indicators that she is, for instance, probably willing to take it in the ass: pierced nipples, a tattoo that says Man’s Ruin, a tongue stud, pink hair (although that last is less certain, with the growing popularity of cosplay). Some girls, though, just look like nature has endowed them, independently of any aftermarket modifications, with a licentiousness for the ages. I can’t really explain what it is about Charlotte, but as you watch her getting plowed from behind on the massage table or sticking her tongue out to receive a load, you think, “All is right in the world; that is where that girl is supposed to be.”
As much as I love massage, what I’ve really been waiting for in this movie is Skylar Vox, who is one of my favorite new stars of the year. She’s got big natural tits and hair dyed a silvery pink color that defies description except to say that the only other place I’ve seen it has been on girl’s bicycles and bottles of nail polish at salons. Her tits are perfect — lush and ripe, but not artificially firm; they’re almost in her armpits when she’s on her back and dangling deliciously when she’s getting fucked from behind, but still full enough to be moving with every bounce and jiggle. I could watch them get massaged, or fucked, for hours. I’ve seen her do scenes where she had to act a little, and I kind of regret that there’s not more of her personality here. Still, there’s enough that I’m glued to the screen right through the inevitable facial.
