I think we can all agree that the grand finale in porn is the “money shot.” It wraps things up nicely in a stringy little bow. That’s why lesbian porn leaves me a little emptier than boy-girl porn. Emptier in the heart I mean. Without a warm arch of salty fluid decorating some eager starlet’s flesh, a scene just doesn’t seem concluded. It’s like an M. Night Shyamalan film without a twist. It’s untraditional.

Now the good thing with – I’m going to just come out and say it – a cumshot is the fact that even though it’s just an ejaculating penis, men can enjoy it too. That’s right, many a night I have sat through a twelve minute “cumpilation,” enjoying each and every droplet as it cascades onto faces, shoots into gaping mouths and rains onto well pedicured feet. Being a straight man and enjoying cumshots is fine. There is a man-law stating that we are “so not gay” when indulging in the visual pleasures of the milky release. It’s only right we like them. Imagine a scene in which, say, April Flowers gets fucked in every imaginable position, dropping to her knees to finally receive a load and then the camera just cuts to the next scene. That is a jizz-less world I do not want to live in.

Now despite my praise for the cumshot, I must take this article in a different direction. I must warn porn watchers worldwide of the phenomenon that has come to officially ruin the money shot.

A few yeas ago a friend approached me with a DVD. It was a nameless, rickety thing, scratched to high heaven and adorned with finger prints; tell tale signs that this had made the rounds. He informed me that I just had to watch it as it was something “new and Japanese.” Now, nothing brings excitement to the brain, heart and genitals like “new and Japanese” because, face it, “new and Japanese” could mean absolutely anything. With anticipation I popped the dusty disk into my player and was immediately hit with a black background on which lay the word BUKKAKE. The disk seemed to read my mind as, beneath the ominous title, appeared “Boo-Kar-Kee” in parentheses. Neither the title nor the phonics explained a single thing about the content but I knew I was in for some exciting sexual ride. What had the Japanese porn-wizards come up with now and how was it a step up from cartoon tentacle rape?

I was greeted with a Japanese lady, in full school uniform, seated on the floor. I immediately thought, What is this? Sex does not start on the floor! This is groundbreaking! Now, what happened next will probably stay in my mind forever. The camera zoomed out to what can only be described as a circle of masturbating Asian men. I thought the party was about to get started when the lady began whispering some sexy shit I didn’t understand. Japanese school girl orgy porn? No…I jumped to an early conclusion and was wholly disappointed. She kept her school uniform on. She didn’t shed a single thread of clothing and yet the frantically jerking ensemble began to close in around her like a pack of wolves around a frightened lamb.
And then it happened.

One of the men broke the circle, stepped within inches of the kneeling of age school girl and ejaculated all over her face. What madness is this? I thought. I wondered if it were some kind of “Memento” inspired smut whereby the events leading up to the climax would be shown afterwards. No sir, this was BUKKAKE. I sat, gripped by increasing confusion as each man stepped forward, spraying the girl with his semen. We’re talking twenty, thirty guys. As they unloaded, the girl’s arousing whispers got louder and more goading. It was obvious that she was enjoying herself. I, however, was not.

Once each man had finished, the school girl just sat there coated in steadily cooling sperm. And then the scene ended. The next scene began with a Japanese woman…dressed as an air hostess…surrounded by a circle of masturbating men. This occurred for four more scenes, with each outfit getting stranger and stranger, the last being a soldier’s uniform. The men came and each scene ended, the lady frozen like Han Solo in liquid Carbon and yet this wasn’t liquid Carbon…this was man-seed.

Let me elaborate. There wasn’t a single vagina in sight. Not even a boob or single peek of nipple. Ass? No ma’am. Inner thigh? Not an inch. This was two hours of fully clothed women being ejaculated on.

Me? I’m all for fetishes. Whatever floats your filthy, perverted boat. If you enjoy seeing Brazilian women fart or Belladonna choke on the enormous phallus of Lexington Steele, then go for it. The world is your oyster. Or is that the world is your hairy clam? Bukkake is a fetish I cannot conquer. It has no merits. It gives us the finale of the money shot but no exposition, no background, no prelude. No fucking. All the components are there – hard cocks and a willing female participant – and yet it just doesn’t work out. It’s like having all the pieces of a jigsaw, putting them together and the resulting picture is your naked grandparents engaged in relations. The potential is there but then the end product is just wrong.

I even tried watching American Bukkake. I sat and watched as the incredibly buxom and current favourite, Gianna Michaels, was splashed with a healthy dose of spunk. Granted, it was a lot better than my Asian experience because she was naked and, on occasion, assisted the gentlemen in their journey to orgasm but it still left me feeling disappointed. For once in my life I actually wondered what her parents would think as she sat there frosted by rivulets of male protein.

I understand Bukkake has its offshoots that now involve full sex and then the multiple cumshots and that’s all good and well. But true Bukkake will always be a thing of evil. It is a senseless gathering only existing to diminish the magic of the pop-shot. I’ll always remember Bukkake. It was the day semen broke my heart. I may never buy my butter salted again.

Image used with permission.