Oh, Did I Mention….

Here’s Me Spanking Asphyxia Noir, Again.

I had the urge to post this again. So here’s that clip I shot of Asphyxia Noir getting spanked hard over the knee by yours truly.

For you porn connoisseurs, she needs no introduction. If you even casually like internet erotica and have not been living under a rock for the past five years I don’t need to tell you who Asphyxia Noir is or how hot, sexy and amazing she is as a performer. Shooting this was a hell of a lot of fun for me.

This was in May, 2015. She’s still fetish modeling but pretty much in porno semi-retirement now.

Hopefully she won’t ever fully retire. She’s only 26 and like a high-strung racehorse she’s going to be good for a lot of rides before she’s put out to pasture.

Juicy.Asphyxia Noir, ass spank.

Kajira’s Solo Vibrator Party

Kajira Bound Fucks Herself to Orgasm With A Vibrator

Okay, I’ve uploaded two flash versions of the videos I recorded of the beautiful Kajira bringing herself to climax with a vibrator I bought her for this purpose earlier in the day from the Barnett Avenue bookstore.

In the past I’ve had a fascination with the dynamics of the female orgasm. It’s elusive, mysterious … profound. One of these days I want to get an up-close clip of the labia during orgasm and do a split screen of the facial features and how the expression changes during climax. If there’s a way to get a model to hold still for it I’d like to do a video of the iris and pupil changes undergone during climax as well. Maybe there’s a way to map out the brain wave patterns. Medical lab techs with proper equipment training please contact me.

I’ll add the html5 version links to this post for you iPhone viewers later, probably tomorrow.

Kajira Bound spreads and climaxes on video:
Front View
Top View

Click HERE or on the pic below for the “frontal” clip.

Kajira Bound: vibrator play.
Kajira Bound: vibrator play.

Click HERE or on the pic below for the “overhead” clip.

Kajira is a great fetish model. No shame at all.
Kajira is a great fetish model. No shame at all.

Remembering Nico Elise

Sweet little Nico Elise,
she liked to go by the name “The Female GG Allin”.

In 2008 Nico Elise was a very cute sex model who, at 4-foot-9, was for some reason also going by the title of “The Female GG Allin”. At the time she seemed so vulnerable and fragile I couldn’t know of a less appropriate name for this nice tender little morsel. But there you go. Sometimes these girls just want to dabble in the dark side for a while.

This is one of my very early video interviews and I’m pretty sure I shot it with my Nikon CoolPix non-SLR. I wanted to get a scoop from an up-and-coming new adult video actress, and one day I discovered east-coast model Nico Elise was in California and available in Hollywood for a shoot. I was already well aware of her from another website and I think I’d also been sent a review DVD of a video she was in with Joanna Angel and other big porn names like that.

I cancelled all my other appointments and drove up from San Diego, picking her up on Hollywood Boulevard to take her over to the rented apartment of a writer I knew in film school and living in the area behind the CNN building.

Admittedly, my interview style here is pretty awful. Unable to curb my zeal to talk, I interrupt her a couple of times mid-answer. Bad bad bad interviewer I was, and sometimes still am, unfortunately. I’m trying to get better at it though. Listening to the pro radio journalist Terri Gross on NPR helps. I’ve studied her style pretty well for a while now and she’s about the best when it comes to calmly talking to a subject and waiting for him or her to finish their full answer. Then she’ll come back with a probing interview question that often amazes.

But enough about me and Terri Gross.

Don’t expect any of that magic trickery here though. Nico Elise was a lovely hottie and I’m just a guy with a handheld video camera and a nude model. Here in 2008 Nico was in the middle of getting out of her first marriage, a pretty bad one too. She was hitched to with a porn webmaster that turned out had some real problems with mistreating and disrespecting women. I think today he’s either in jail or up on charges and awaiting trial.

So fast-forward to now: little Nico’s an artist and currently married again — six years going — with a new kid, and she seems to be one-hundred percent happier, and that’s very good for her.

This is kind of a snapshot of where things were at in 2008, which was a tough time for a lot of people. I’m very glad she’s in a better place.

flash | html5

Nico Elise presents id for proof of age.
Nico Elise presents id for proof of age.
Nico Elise, my art model, 2008, Hollywood, California.
Nico Elise, my art model, 2008, Hollywood, California.

Oregon Roadtrip, 2005

[Journal Archive]

Satan’s Zip Code

Oregon Journey, 2005.

ten years ago, there was an epic road trip to Portland

by Reviewer Rob

Editor’s Note: In early Fall, 2005, I went on an exploratory expedition to the Northwest, driving from San Diego to Portland along the 101 from LA to SF and then up the 5 through Medford and into PDX, stopping finally at the doorstep of Powell’s Books bookstore. This little story is reposted from 9-11-2005 in the Reviewermag Livejournal account, which was, in the days before we had a dedicated website, our way of managing content online. Reviewer has been in print since 1996, and a domain was purchased as early as 2000 or so, but has been webmastering its own site only since 2009.

[Backposted from the same date in Reviewer Rob’s Sporadic Journal.]

I’m still in Portland. I can get back in time to catch the swell if I leave on Tuesday.

I have been meeting with people despite my hellacious head cold, which I think I caught in Medford. Or maybe in Marin, on the north side of the Golden Gate bridge. I had been checking out the Presidio and area around the Golden Gate and said what the hell and drove across it. On the other side there was a lookout point with a statue of a solitary sailor in the middle of it and lots of Japanese tourists acting all excited to be there. There was a fierce cold wind blowing. I mean, it was like you’d expect to feel on a ship in the arctic. This was still the first week in September and I was suddenly very aware of not being in Southern California any more. I put on a sweatshirt and it was still cold. On the water directly in front of the observation deck, down slightly to the right, there was a large rock sticking out of the water, a small shoreless island shaped like half a football jutting vertically out of the water. Plumes of the wind could be seen making small waves in the bay as blasts of air came over the Marin headland and struck the water at what must have been a sharp angle since the ripple pattern fanned out in all directions from a large central location near the rock. I went into a Sausalito dockside restaurant for a large plate of some excellent blackened catfish, beans, rice, salad and a pint of beer. The salad was better than any I’ve ever tasted. I ate every single morsel of this dish as well as the basket of bread while reading the local paper and was full. There was a TV over the bar and the weather man was at the chart. The sound was off but the unmistakable schematic of the Jet Stream could be seen making a high arc up by Alaska, curving down the Canadian Coast, and then going slightly out to sea before making a hard left and entering California right at the mouth of the San Francisco Bay. I know the Jet Stream is a high-altitude phenomenon, but it’s no wonder I imagined I could smell icebergs in that wind.

Berkeley was cold too, didn’t stop there for long. Drove up into the central valley and on for a couple of hundred miles before stopping to sleep.

I went to Medford, Oregon, the next day, and stopped in at a Starbucks to log on where there was a customer coughing. Maybe he’s the one who had something that I didn’t yet have any antibodies for… Or maybe it was the strippers at that one titty bar Medford has. They, like many Oregon erotic dancers, get up close and personal with their marks.

Since it’s a novelty for this California dude to be in a bar where nude girls dance I eagerly went in to this one place of live, erotic entertainment. The girls on stage were rubbing faces, clothed asses and crotches on customer’s faces, bare legs on faces… I was thinking like, “OK, how do I know that last guy on the other side of the stage you were rubbing your twat into his face on didn’t have fuckin pink eye?!”

But the girls were hot, so, I tipped well and drank my beer. I even bought a lap dance from a bright young lady who spent a few minutes before hitting me up for going private to tell me how nice Medford is, how it reminds her of her hometown in Minnesota, and about all the money she’s made over the last couple of years first buying a condo in Sacramento for 90K with her boyfriend and how they sold it a year later for over 100K in profit. Now she lives in Yreka and is a dental assistant. She was short, small breasted and 22, with braces on her teeth and a killer little rockin ass and figure…

Lap dance: $15.

So, anyways…

Here I am now with a huge head cold in Portland, with all these new bugs swirling around me, money in my pocket and time on my hands. The people here are friendly and I’ve met a few I’d like to spend some time with before I make my drive back.

I’ll let you know though if I come down with a case of the Portland Whooping Cough or conjunctivitis.

Oh, by the way, almost forgot, one of the things I like to do in every town I stop in is buy the local Thomas Guide. The only complaint I have about it is that they don’t yet have GPS coordinates on the pages. Other than that the things are invaluable and a great street finding resource even if you have a really good onboard or pocket computer. They come with a CD and every year they update with new streets and the pages correspond year after year so places are easy to find in each edition.

In the Thomas Guide for San Francisco the map for North Beach is on page 666.

Coincidence, you say?

A stripper on stage, photographed by Reviewer Rob, editor@reviewermagazine.com, but not during the roadtrip described in this post.
A stripper on stage, photographed by Reviewer Rob, editor@reviewermagazine.com, in Southern California however, not during the roadtrip described in this post.

“Just One, Okay?”

“Let’s Just See One.”

“Please, just one…”

At first this model was shy here because we were on a street and even though there wasn’t anyone else present except for me and my two assistants, she was slow to not demure.

It didn’t take much asking though before without saying a word she popped one boob out of her shirt and I snapped a pic.

This girl was living with her boyfriend in an upstairs apartment across the street from the beach near La Jolla Cove at the time. She was working as a topless dancer but I met in the San Diego nightclubs when I was a “scene” photographer there for Revolt In Style magazine. I got her phone number either at a downtown dance club after it let out one night and everyone was standing around on the sidewalk out front or maybe at the old Pink Panther on Morena Boulevard, I really forget which. We shot a couple of times and although she looks great here you should see the others I have of her because her legs and ass are truly spectacular.

But I like this sequence a lot. She was gorgeous and her personality was every bit as sweet as her looks.

Just one...
Just one…