Live in My Secrets

liveinmysecretsStudio: Vivid-Alt
Director: Kimberly Kane
Cast: Aiden Starr, Tyler Knight, Kimberly Kane, Sasha Grey, Bobbi Starr, Claire Adams, Mandy Morbid, Faith Leon, April Flores

Portions of this review also appeared on Fleshbot

A bewigged Kimberly Kane masturbates with a lollipop in a scene that looks like it was taken from an old Mexican movie, save for the lollipop masturbation. April Flores cavorts with lizards, Aiden Starr treats Tyler Knight like a horse (as an actual horse looks on), Claire Adams opens up Bobbi Starr with a fork and knife, and Sasha Grey gives Kimberly Kane her red wings.

These scenes and more comprise Kane’s directorial effort “Live in My Secrets,” a glorious, evil little vignette movie.

In fact, the Adams/Starr scene is one of the best, if not the best, girl/girl bondage scene I have ever seen. It takes its time, lingers in places, and sometimes threatens to end but doesn’t. At one point the girls take a break and Adams makes Starr groom her before grabbing fistfuls of Starr’s hair. It emphasizes the serenity of the submissive experience (and also makes the viewer cheer on Adams to fuck Bobbi harder).

A game Tyler Knight is trussed and suspended in a horse paddock while the vampire-white sex hydrant Aiden Starr toys with him. “You’ve got white person all over your face,” she says.

In scenelets over too soon, Mandy Morbid flounces around Hollywood and April Flores becomes Queen of the Reptiles.

Finally Kane (blonde this time) has the Messiest Sex Ever with Sasha Grey, making sure to let us know – albeit briefly – that the red stuff all over Kane’s mouth and Grey’s thighs is strawberrry syrup. Otherwise viewrs would think the girls were doing test shots for Vivid’s ill-fated OctoMom movie.

Live in My Secrets is a gorgeous movie that doesn’t skimp on hardcore action and, arty as it is, doesn’t let technique get in the way of what people buy porn movies for. The editing is precise and we don’t hear Kane the director except when she’s in front of the camera as a performer.

And the images – a closeup of Kane holding on to a wrought iron bedrail, Grey giving birth to an ice cream topping, Bobbi Starr’s face, spent after getting the business from Claire Adams, and Aiden Starr pondering a move that spelled curtains for Catherine the Great, are all strong choices that would each of them define lesser movies.

I am glad that Kane got some of these secrets off her chest, though I wish she’d worked them out with me, a friend, if they were causing her so much trouble. Still, I am curious what else she might be hiding in there (hoping there’s some ducks).

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