Tube Socks Soiree
by Jockey Hanes
Between all of the people in the office, we have been on thousands of adult movie sets. No exaggeration. Thousands. … Think about that. Only a very small percentage of people on the planet have seen the diversity of sexual expression that we have. Granted, we see only the “professional” realm, only the “acceptable” (read: legal) forms of libidinous interaction between consenting adults, but that still leaves a vast memory universe. Basically, we have seen a whole lotta boobs.
More interestingly — perhaps, because boobs have a fascination all their own, clearly — we have seen the effect that naked breasts have on people. Now get those naked breasts bouncing up and down due to sweaty athletics aimed at orgasm, and no matter what culture they come from, you have people’s attention at that point. Some may feel offended, even outraged, while others may mentally stand and applaud, but each reaction stems from the same core place: Biology.
We’re wired to procreate, and no matter how guilty (or not) those urges make us feel, we will never be able to moralize, or even legislate away fundamental biology. Fortunately for us, and probably for you, around the Risque Commune we do not spend much time on lofty issues such as these. We don’t even spend as much time as you might think considering decidedly sexual topics such as fetish. We labor (not so much in the biological sense, usually) in the realm of the “mainstream sex” — if you can wrap you head around that concept. Occasionally we will see how a producer has set up, say, Amber Rayne and Lexi Belle for a “normal” ménage à trois, and regardless of our personal sexual inclinations, we all arrive at one overriding thought, one all-encompassing, metaphysical, question.
What’s up with the tube socks?