Studio: Digital Playground
Director: Robby D.
Cast: Codi Milo, Jasmine Byrne, Holly Morgan, Alexis Silver, Nautica Thorn, Honey
The Point of View format is tricky because the camera is supposed to be your eyes and, by deduction, the hands reaching into the frame, yours, and the everything else one sees that does not belong to the starlet being viewed, also yours.
In that Robby D. does all the talking and is directing the camera in this movie, it is as if he is your eyes and your brain. Your dick belongs to Scott Nails. For a while I thought all the elements belonged to D. himself, but then I concluded, “How would he hold the camera?”
Since Nails does no talking on his own, the picture one gets is that Robby D., Vishnu-style, is doing the whole job himself, but behind the camera.
So watching Mr. D. romance Holly Morgan, Jasmine Byrne, Alexis Silver, Honey, and Nautica Thorn leads me to put myself in his place. His dick is my dick.
Would I be as smooth with the ladies as Robby D.? Would I be able to make small talk about peanut butter with Holly Morgan? Probably not. I find, though, that having a camera helps almost as much as having a few drinks.
Unlike other narrated movies, however, Pulse has someone’s dick in it. That didn’t happen with Blade Runner or Stand By Me. One gets used to it, though. With other porn movies the viewer can at least be satisfied that the director isn’t getting laid (like Atomic Vixens). With this one Robby is getting all the business.
“I can see your nipple through that shirt,” D. says to Honey, channeling my exact thoughts.
“Thanks,” she says. (She is grateful that I still pay attention after all these years.)
I would like to have been on the set of the scene with Honey, because she was groaning in pleasure even when our dicks were nowhere near her. At one point, a pair of hands grabbed her ankles. How did the camera stay up??
Honey was a little too strident and affected for us, but Yow what a dynamo.
Jasmine Byrne as a compromised maid and titan-breasted Britisher Alexis Silver both took very good care of us.
But it was Nautica Thorn, who let us come on her glasses in exchange for a contract, who provided the perfect porn star experience.
“That was fucking hot. That was so fucking hot – that felt so good,” we told her. “I’m having a fucking heart attack. Oh shit,” we said.
My time as Robby D. was well spent, though I would have rather we had been serviced here at Gram Ponante Towers and Aviary or at one of those trendy porn journalist parties we attend rather than in the standard porn houses. But if you have to be a tourist on someone else’s fantasy, Pulse delivers.
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