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Hi-‘Jacked’: You Can Feel Sore Tomorrow!

CELEBRITY

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Fitness – the obsessive, hardcore, “Ya gotta push through the pain!” variety – can be awfully culty.

Maybe it's all the post-New Year's ads for gym memberships, fitness equipment, and diet aids, but I'm realizing more and more that I'm not much of a joiner when it comes to exercise, meaning I'd rather just fly solo. Just the other day I saw an ad featuring hypertrophic people performing the same movements as a Jim Jones-style voice over proclaimed “We don't quit! We do not ever quit!  We are a force of nature!”.  I think I'll skip the Kool-Aid, reverend, but thanks. Full-on cults like P90X, CrossFit, Zumba, and SoulCycle – which compel you to move in unison as a group, dictate what you can eat, and entice you to pledge yourself to a collective, transcendent goal – give me the serious wig. Even Yoga – itself a religious tradition – has become something of an urban/suburban faith that's purported to provide you inner peace and requires you to buy all manner of accessories to achieve that end.

Transformation, enlightenment, inclusion, purpose – these are the false promises that cults trade in, extreme fitness factions chock full of people willing to spend inordinate amounts of time and money in pursuing the goal of looking exactly like everyone else in the flock.

So somehow it seems apt that Jacked, the latest entry in Falcon’s Edge series, is very nearly synonymous with the two-years-ago trendoid fitness super-product yanked from shelves (“Jack3d – So many workouts in one little bottle!”).  There's a veritable pipeline that extends from the porn biz right into the fitness industry, and surely Jacked's resident Maciste Sean Zevran embodies that symbiosis.  Looking like he could uproot a lamppost if provoked, he's all over noir-ish male starlet Brent Corrigan, who it seems wanted badly to be Traci Lords but ended up more Ginger Lynn Allen.  Anyway, their making-out and oral action is downright intense, leading to Corrigan lying spread-eagle over Zevran's torso as his ass gets tongue-plundered.  Some frankly marvelous reverse cowboying ensues -- Zevran's pounding is practically merciless -- before Corrigan just can't take anymore and pops off.  Guys like this basically live on protein shakes, so Zevran kindly provides his spent paramour with an epic blast to the mouth.  "You don't wanna lose all your gains, bro!"

Conformity is the watchword as the flick progresses, each cast member oiled to a sheen and decked out in these multicolored jock straps and designer treads.  This left me thinking of nothing so much as the video for Physical in which stocky men are tormented by sadistic aerobic pixie-demon Olivia Newton-John until they're transformed into uniform, bikini brief-clad studlets who ultimately reject becoming her minions.  Ryan Rose and Brenner Bolton certainly fit the bill.  Both have that requisite '80s Soloflex guy look, and both are perfectly willing to polish pole on command.  Rose treats poor Bolton's mouth like it's a stubborn vending machine that won't give up the goods (I like that).  The sheer amount of glycerin that these two are basted in as Bolton takes Rose's dick from the back, to the front, to the back again had me hoping that somebody on set had the forethought to bring a Swiffer SweeperVac.  Still, Bolton is courteous enough to gorge down every drop of Rose's load...followed by his own.

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As fuck flicks go, Jacked is sweatier than In The Heat of The Night, Cool Hand Luke, and Dog Day Afternoon combined.  I can't say that I've ever felt voraciously turned-on after getting off an elliptical machine -- I feel like my haunches have received enough punishment by then -- but Jacked would have us believe that's but an exhausting prelude to all manner of sexual shenanigans.  Nick Sterling and Josh Conners don't even need a cool-down -- that's just how eager they are to get their hands down each other's high-end jocks.  At least wait a half hour, jeez.  It's nice to see some token guys with actual body fat, and both sport full, high-sitting asses with some give to them.  Uptilt shots of Conner's thighs as Sterling back-ends him are a welcome sight as well, while Sterling's own flanks look pretty damn enticing bobbing up and down in rear-view.  From a technical standpoint, this is arguably the best-staged and -edited sequence, Sterling so moved by Conner's ejaculation that he hurries to straddle him before spraying all over his face.

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One would think that Corrigan would be satiated after being worked over by Zevran, but no, he's back in the DVD finale, getting manhandled by Brian Bonds.  Both of their cocks drop with pre-ejaculate as they stroke, and soon enough, Corrigan is back in his element as he downs Bonds's dick with cross-eyed abandon.   Bent over an exercise ball -- this is hardly approved usage -- Corrigan is eaten out before getting mounted and exquisitely jackhammered.  Bonds in turn takes Corrigan's -- and the movie's -- showstopper of a load to the face.

Jacked:  Unless You Cry, Choke, or Swallow, Keep Going!


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