By Kent Nostrand
You know what really revs my engine? Doing it in a car. And by it, I mean "it". And "it", whenever it's bracketed by quotation marks, means "sex".
I imagine that I'm hardly alone in this passionate pursuit, but recently I've realized that my devotion to such emotions is not really defined by the motorized elements but by the idea that one might roll away while en flagrante.
I get hard like a wheel.
It's easy to understand somebody going ga-ga for a movie like Crash (1996), wherein Rosanna Arquette (Picture: 1), Holly Hunter (Picture: 1 - 2), and fuzzy-muffed Deborah Kara Unger (Picture: 1) play fuck nuts who fetishize automobile accidents. Certainly I've careened out of control with one fist gripping my own personal stick shift on numerous occasions to director David Cronenberg's adaptation of the J.G. Ballard novel.
But what about my going all kinds of ga-ga for Heather Graham (Picture: - ) in Boogie Nights (1997)? Yeah, I know, the whole world fell for the bright-eyed, naturally mega-mammaried bombshell, who proves she's blonde quite brilliantly in Paul Thomas Anderson's enduring exploration of the theatrically released hardcore porn film industry. Heather and her Golden Grahams are knockouts, no doubt, but what pushed her over the top(lessness) for me was the very nature of her character. She played Rollergirl, and as such never appeared on camera without her skates. She turned the Brand New Key in my heart, and I've never been able to slow down.
Another buxom blonde who came by her tremendous chest charms the old-fashioned way--she grew them herself--is Kelly Preston (Picture: 1). The present-day Mrs. John Travolta's key nude scene in the classic teen sex comedy Mischief (1985) occurs in her bedroom, but the poster promoting the movie depicted Kelly tumbling out of a vintage sedan, offering us a cleavage-intensive peek down the front of her 1950s dress. You can be sure I got into some mischief with that image myself.
Taking it back a few years, Animal House (1978) made me howl during the sequence when those randy college gents venture on a road trip into a largely African-American nightclub. As Peter Riegert, Stephen Furst, and Tom Hulce contend with the regular customers who inquire, "Mind if we dance with yo' dates?" Tim Matheson stays behind in the backseat of their car, accompanied by lovely lung-ballooned Lisa Baur (Picture: 1). Just prior to the Deltas' frantic escape we get a great look at Lisa's bare bazoombas, followed by the boys zooming off.
As with Mischief, it was the poster for the skinternational arthouse hit Sex and Lucia (2001) that put its pedal to my metal. The movie's star, electrifying Spanish dish Paz Vega (Picture: 1 - 2), is shot atop a motorbike in a dress cut so low that we nearly see nippage.
I was similarly compelled to seek out the French TV mini-series La Bicyclette bleue (2000), wherein sumptuous, tres stacked supermodel Laetitia Casta (Picture: 1) travels the WWII-era countryside by the power of her own pedals. She also shows her entire multi-billion franc body during a blowout sex scene that starts on a bed and finishes on the floor.
Once I got in touch with this well-rounded kink of mine, I went from zero to 69 upon hearing about a film titled Girl on a Motorcycle (1968). This cult classic features acid-rock icon Marianne Faithfull (Picture: 1) in the title role. She has a couple of nude scenes, but what really got to me were the lengthy sequences in which, donned head-to-toe in skintight leather, she zooms for miles on her hot hog. How I envied its heavily vibrating seat.
Chopper Chicks in Zombietown (1989) promised similar thrills, but, for all the erotic shots of its titular all-female motorcycle gang, there's nary a naked nip. What I like to do, then, is watch footage of flame-maned star Jamie Rose (Picture: - 2) commandeering her cycle in Zombie Town while simultaneously ogling her stiff pink nips in Heartbreakers (1984) and great white ass in Tightrope (1984).
Returning to the realm of 1980s teen sex comedies, Zapped! is a masterpiece of the genre. Scott Baio plays a teen suddenly struck with telekinetic powers, and he puts them to use in a manner that pleases his onscreen best bud, Willie Aames, when he pops the top off of Jewel Shepard while she's seated in a convertible. The car then speeds away, taking with it my breath.
Kinking it up a bit, madman filmmaker Ken Russell's 1984 exploration of sexual freakiness Crimes of Passion contains an exquisite scene featuring young, flat-chested Kathleen Turner's awesomely long, thick nipples (Picture: 1 - 2). Kathleen plays an ad exec by day who prowls the scummy streets of New York by night, selling herself as a hooker. At one point she's picked up by a decadent rich couple traversing about in their limousine. The silver-bearded male half goes to work on Kathleen, opening her shirt and sucking her skin, while the stuck-up female blathers on beside them. I don't know what kind of limo that was, but that scene sure gave me a "stretch".
Crimes of Passion contained skinema's sexiest limousine canoodle up until No Way Out came along in 1987. Sean Young (Picture: 1 - 2) briefly became a huge star after No Way Out (before her public crack-up and inner-circle cast-out ignited by her desire to play Catwoman in a Batman installment). And much of that success can be credited to her back-seat grope with Kevin Costner. Sean is gorgeous and the heat between the two actors seems real, but, for me, the real kicker comes when Costner catches the driver trying to sneak a peek. Who could blame him?
