Hard-On Wheels

Publicado en: 31 de agosto de 2007 por After Hours Cinema (Adult)
****Recommended For Rental**** Bikers and casual sex seem to go together like, well... bikers and casual sex. Hippies and Harleys with a hearty side of down-and-dirty poontang were a mainstay of early Seventies triple-XXX-ploitation. What better way to kick off the spring than with this swinging sampler of biker smut, guaranteed to get your motor revvin' and your old lady hotter 'n an exhaust pipe. Hard-On Wheels is a long-lost Los Angeles hog opera featuring a cast of hard-riding hipsters right off of the Sunset Strip. A tale of revenge, the plot concerns a posse of hopped-up chopper-hoppers who set out to exact retribution from a pot dealing police detective. After one of his club-mates is busted in a raid, the gang's nameless leader (who boasts a passable resemblance to an older, scarier Peter Fonda) tracks the offending officer to his suburban playpen, where the lawman's obliging bath-buddy is giving him a b. j. in the shower. Along with his cavorting sidekick (also nameless), the Sleazy Rider sneaks into the flatfoot's flat through an open window, pistol whips the shower-soaked pig, and pulls his old lady into an adjacent bedroom. Now the fun really begins. With the detective securely bound to a nearby chair, the head honcho's second banana proceeds to enjoy a good schlong sucking from the copper's lady friend, who is tied spread-eagle to a bed. Meanwhile, in the living room, the Sleazy Rider starts to make it with his own hog-sucking honey while an 8 mm movie projector inexplicably rattles away on a side-table next to them. After a bit of crosscutting, two other members of the crew - one of them the gang's recently busted compadre - show up at the policeman's digs, apparently hip to the revenge scenario. Entering the bedroom, the delinquent detainee kicks the naked cop in the balls then face fucks his girlfriend while one of the club's muff-diving molls reams her out with an over-sized dildo. On the sofa, the Sleazy Rider cleans his pipes with a motorcycle mama. Ding-dong. Into the mix enters an area pothead and his big-breasted girlfriend, who drop by to score from the cop's ready supply of weed. Put off by the unexpected visit, the bikers whisk the couple away into another bedroom, where the two are made to participate in an improvised orgy involving various couplings and a bottle of Jim Beam. As if there weren't enough gatecrashers at this affair, a raggedy-assed wino - silver make-up in his hair to prove he's over 30 - wanders in through the open window pursuing an alley cat. He crawls into the bedroom where the cop and his cunt have been left unattended and is convinced to relieve the well-reamed wench of her bonds. In synch with this unexpected development, the pothead in the other bedroom suddenly overpowers his assailants and starts to make a break for it. Sensing trouble, the Sleazy Rider runs to reconnoiter the cop's crib, only to find himself facing the business end of the lawman's 45. In a conclusion that takes its cues more from Sam Peckinpah than from Rocco Siffredi, mayhem ensues, underwritten by a considerable expense of bright red stage ink. By the end, only the (staggering) wino is left standing.

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Cindy Lafon

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