And it looks like Lucy isn't the only one to show some skin in this series, either. We don't know about you, but we're going to be signing up for Starz post haste.

· "Spartacus: Blood and Sand" (starz.com)

The following excerpt is from "In a Handbasket," by Alison Tyler.

The heat surrounded us: Santa Monica in the summertime, melting popsicles and no lights on; that electric smell of hot asphalt and salt breezes. And Cal's mouth working me, tongue ringing my clit, those warm strong hands opening me up now, drumming, strumming in a heady rhythm along the crack of my ass.

"You said you were a believer," I remembered suddenly, gazing down into his coffee-brown eyes, seeing the humor that I always saw when he looked at me-realizing in a flash it was because this was the first time I'd ever looked down at him, first time I was ever above.

But then he hosted me up, lifting me in his arms so I had to put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself, feeling his muscles through his seat-dampened T-shirt. I could have put my palms up flat on the ceiling if I'd wanted to. Instead, I gripped into his arms, knowing he was going to-what was it?

"Fellowship of light with darkness," Cal murmured, letting me feel the head of his cock at the split of my lips. Letting me steel myself now for the first taste of him.

"Does fellowship mean fuck?" I asked innocently.

"Only someone who wears a sinner on her chest would ask a question like that," Cal teased. And then he got quiet, because he'd felt me squeeze him. Tight. Once again and then release. He responded by plunging forward, driving firmly inside for me. And sweet Jesus, right then I started to think I might become a believer for real.

A believer in me and Caleb.

Forget Cain. We were able. Able to fuck like a dream. His hands moving, holding, lifting me so that I felt weightless, as if we were fucking in water, fucking in heat that's both breathable and surrounding. Flames licking our skin. the sound of fire crackling.

Caleb's strong, hard body pinned me to the wall, held me firmly then brought me down over and over on the length of his shaft. The pleasure floored me. Or lifted me up. I couldn't comprehend the sweetness, sparked with pain from his size, from the way that he stretched me. I'd heard of being fucked hard, fucked until you could feel that cock hammering against the back of your throat. But I never had that feeling until Caleb brought me to the bed, set me down and got behind me.

Here we were, bringing that picture to life, becoming the image that all of those dirty-minded people pictured when they saw us walking, when they saw two friends together. This was the culmination of all those stares. And they were right, those filthy-thinking people. Being fucked by Caleb was transcendent, shattering in that way that makes you flutter inside, every nerve ending alive-every fiber on fire.

Caleb gripped my hair in one fist and pulled as he fucked me, as he sealed himself into me, whispering sweet words the whole time. Not scripture, but promises, or rather confessions: how he'd wanted to do this from the start. How he was one of those dirty-minded people who imagined what I'd look like naked whenever he saw me.

"Like a sinner?" I whispered.

"We're all sinners," he sighed, as he came.

I slid one hand on top of his, pumping against my clit, showing him the way to take me there, letting his finger do the trick, so that I climaxed right after him, melting with him into the heat.

But he recovered quicker that I did, gripping me into his arms, holding me against him as the breeze barely stirred my lacy curtains.

"You know," I told him, turning to look into his eyes, "we're going to hell."

He laughed, that rumbling baritone laugh that I've always loved. "At least, chicklet, we'll be there together."

Excerpted from "Best Women's Erotica 2010," an anthology edited by Violet Blue and published by Cleis Press.

The book is also on sale at Amazon.

Copyright (c) 2009 by Cleis Press.

If you're an author or a book publicist and you want to participate in the Fleshbot Book Club, send email to Lux Alptraum.

Finding the DVD, streaming video, or porn site that turns you on and gets you off is no easy proposition, even if you already know what you want to see. Porn is a vast genre with many subgenres, full of its own language and customs, confusing labels, and misleading titles-plus a whole lot of bad grammar. What's worse, many retailers (online and off) treat their stock with carelessness or even distaste, cramming porn together with no discernable sense of order. Alphabetical order is not invited to the party, Dewy decimal has left the building. And each website seems to have its own organizational logic. It would make a librarian homicidal. Even a naughty one.

In a lot of ways, finding the right porn is much like seeking out a Hollywood movie-you're really on your own to find it. But in a genre of film that has no road map, you'll need to know not only what you want and where to find it, but also the different types of porn available.

Start by creating a picture of what you hope to find in your porn, just as you'd order a meal in a restaurant. What are you hungry for? Small breasts, big butts, women in charge, realistic plots, blow jobs, two gals and a guy, male anal penetration, rough sex? This may not be your menu, but you get the idea. The important thing is that you make a list of all the qualities you hope to find in an adult video. Then make a second list of things you don't want to see. Do you get turned off by fake breasts, hairy men, rimming, toe-sucking, facial ejaculation, two women together, or watching group sex? These are just examples to get you brainstorming about what you think will send you over the edge-and what you think you'll want to skip through. As you watch porn, you'll probably find more to add to (or subtract from) either list, because sometimes we find things that turn us on or off that we didn't even know about.

Excerpted from The Smart Girl's Guide to Porn, written by Violet Blue and published by Cleis Press.

The book is on sale at Amazon, both as a paperback and e-book.

Copyright (c) 2009 by Violet Blue.

If you're an author or a book publicist and you want to participate in the Fleshbot Book Club, send email to Lux Alptraum.

The Symbiots used to freak us out pretty badly. It was a retarded gentleman and his nephew – or, as we feared, his "nephew". They did have IDs with the same last name, but it was a pretty common one and we were worried we had some kind of chickenhawk situation on our hands and didn't know what to do about it. The nephew was too young to go downstairs (it wasn't ridiculously creepy – he was maybe 18) but was caught down there with the uncle and rousted several times.

The problem with rousting the nephew was that the uncle couldn't pick out porn by himself. Every time they came he went though the entire gay porn section one box at a time.

He couldn't remember what he'd seen before. He couldn't remember that you bring up the tags and not the boxes. He couldn't spot the difference between the for sale stuff and the rentals. He couldn't remember that you only get to check out six movies at a time. He only wanted the cheaper old releases, but couldn't distinguish the old and new release sections.

It would take him hours, and he usually got something wrong and had to go back down. We actually debated saying screw it and letting the nephew, who was of normal intelligence, go downstairs to expedite things, but our manager nixed it.

Finally he'd get back upstairs. The nephew would help the checkout go smoothly; his job was to make the world easier for the two to negotiate.

Then we got to the uncle's half of the relationship: He had the money. He had all the money, and what's more, he knew it was the source of his power and kept a pretty tight rein on it. Occasionally the nephew would pick out a video from upstairs, but his uncle had the account, so he had to check it with him first.

The whole thing freaked all of us at the store out very, very badly.

There were a lot of worried clerkly notes on the file. We didn't know what was going on, just that it was creeping our shit. Were we supposed to do something? There was an ongoing debate as to who was taking advantage of whom.

I served the Symbiots several times and, though nobody at the store agrees with me, I came to the conclusion that it wasn't a sexual relationship. I'm even pretty sure that they really were uncle and nephew. I think they had somehow discovered that they were both gay and formed an interesting team – separately, they couldn't get porn, but together they were unstoppable.

Unfortunately, sometimes our mentally challenged customers cover so well that at first glance they come off as dirtbags. It's hard, in a quick transaction, to tell the difference between someone who is genuinely confused about the rules and someone who's trying to get around them. I usually slip a note on the file suggesting that the customer in question may need some extra assistance, but there's only so much that can do.

It can get frustrating, and I worry that I'm not doing enough. That's why I try to do my best: at least that way whatever else happens, at the end of the day I can rest secure in the knowledge that I have done all I can to make sure that every adult has an equal shot at renting Fuck Pigs 5.

Excerpted from True Porn Clerk Stories, Ali Davis's tales from her days as a porn video clerk.

The book is on sale at Amazon, both as a paperback and e-book.

Hear Ali tell her story on "This American Life" here.

Copyright (c) 2009 by Ali Davis.

If you're an author or a book publicist and you want to participate in the Fleshbot Book Club, send email to Lux Alptraum.

Well, if you ask us, it might just look a bit like VCX's "Stripped — A Confessional," a tale of five couples in therapy revealing their deepest, darkest secrets...and having a whole lot of hot sex, too. We're still waiting on our review copy—but in the meantime, take a sneak peek at this gallery generously given to us by VCX.

· "Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com, sound warning!)

Kiara Diane
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Kiara Diane
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Kiara Diane
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Kiara Diane
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Kiara Diane
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
iara Diane
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
iara Diane
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Ashley Roberts
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Ashley Roberts
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Ashley Roberts
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Ashley Roberts
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Dia Zerva
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Jennifer Dark
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Jennifer Dark
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Jennifer Dark and Joey Brass
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Jennifer Dark and Joey Brass
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Jennifer Dark and Joey Brass
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Jennifer Dark and Joey Brass
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Raven Alexis
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Raven Alexis
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Raven Alexis
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Raven Alexis
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Raven Alexis
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Raven Alexis
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Raven Alexis
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Raven Alexis and Dia Zerva
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Raven Alexis and Dia Zerva
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Raven Alexis and Dia Zerva
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Raven Alexis and Dia Zerva
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)
Raven Alexis and Dia Zerva
"Stripped — A Confessional" (strippeddvd.com)

The following excerpt is from "Clean and Pretty," by Donna George Storey.

My intercom buzzes again for the fifth time tonight-or is it the sixth?

I wipe my oily hands on a towel, slip on my cotton robe and press down the button.

Hiro's husky voice slithers into my ear. "Jenny-san? You've got another customer. He's ordered ‘Virgin's Forbidden Pleasure' and ‘Breast Soap Show.' Oh, and he says he wants ‘Total Satisfaction.' "

"Don't they all?" I turn toward the security camera and grin. I can't see Hiro, but I can imagine his lips stretching into a wry smile, like we're laughing at the world together.

His voice softens. "Are you tired? You are very busy tonight."

"That's because I'm so clean and pretty. Or at least that's what the expert tells me." I say this all in English and strike a vamp's pose.

He laughs, a low chuckle that twines itself around my chest and squeezes. Time stops, suspended in the hot, damp air. My belly contracts, a sharp sexual twinge. But this is business. As much as I try to forget this, Hiro never does.

"Your customer will be there in a few moments. Thank you again for your hard work," he adds in brisk Japanese. The intercom goes dead.

I'm alone again. But that's my job⎯to be a woman alone with her fantasies.

I lean into the shower stall and start the water. Steam rises up over the glass walls, which don't quite reach the ceiling. In no time, the small room will be thick with mist. It won't be too thick, however, to obscure the figure of a naked woman washing herself for any observer who may have slipped into the room. The careful placement of the spotlights guarantees the honorable customer gets what he's paid for.

I shrug off my robe and hang it on the hook embedded in the mirrored wall. The place really does look like some posh hotel in miniature. Hiro told me he pays special attention to detail for the design of each new club. Reality is the essential foundation of every fantasy, he said, and this was every man's dream, to spy on a girl making herself clean and pretty in a lavishly appointed bath. I'm not sure if it's true, but I do know bathing is an important ritual in Japan, a form of purification that dates back to ancient times. With separate facilities in most public baths in hot springs and inns, the thrill of peeping in on the ladies was no doubt a potent taboo. Hiro readily agreed with my theory, but when I asked if he personally had a thing about watching a girl masturbate in the shower, he only smiled.

The intercom buzzes a brief warning, and I move into action, stepping under the spraying water, my eyes half-closed. The door clicks open. I see a sliver of light from the hall widen then disappear with another click of the latch. Of course, I give no sign I know I'm being watched.

But I do know. It's time for the show to begin.

I arch my neck, letting the water stream over my face and hair. The pose alone suggests innocent wantonness. My lips part, my breasts tilt up and out in offering. The man steps closer. Even through the glass, I can feel the air between us thicken.

I spend a few moments luxuriating in the warmth of the water, then turn and squirt some foamy white soap from the dispenser into my hand. I slowly lather my arms, my shoulders. Timidly, my hands fall to my breasts.

Excerpted from "Peep Show," an anthology edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel and published by Cleis Press.

Donna George Storey is the author of Amorous Woman (Neon/Orion). Her fiction has been published in numerous anthologies, including Do Not Disturb: Hotel Sex Stories and X: The Erotic Treasury. She writes a column, "Cooking up a Storey," for the Erotica Readers and Writers Association.

The book is also on sale at Amazon.

Copyright (c) 2009 by Rachel Kramer Bussel.

If you're an author or a book publicist and you want to participate in the Fleshbot Book Club, send email to Lux Alptraum.

Celebrating the beauties who love to eat brains, My Zombie Pinup is equal parts sexy and scary (okay, maybe it's more scary). With beautiful babes doused in blood (and more than few oozing sores), it's not for the weak of heart (or stomach)—but if you're of the mind that decay just brings out a girl's inner beauty, well, have we got the calendar for you.

My Zombie Pinup (myzombiepinup.com)
My Zombie Pinup (myzombiepinup.com)
My Zombie Pinup (myzombiepinup.com)
My Zombie Pinup (myzombiepinup.com)

As per usual, the 2010 Nerdcore calendar looks like a scorcher, with Jana Jordan, Justine Joli, Mosh, and Bobbi Starr paying tribute to horror classics ("Carrie," "Psycho," and "Bride of Frankenstein," just to name a few). Take a peek through our preview gallery...and then rush off to preorder a copy ASAP. If you ask us, the only thing scary about this calendar is the thought of not having a copy.

Jana Jordan
Nerdcore 2010: Horror (totallynerdcore.com)
Mosh
Nerdcore 2010: Horror (totallynerdcore.com)
Justine Joli
Nerdcore 2010: Horror (totallynerdcore.com)
Bobbi Starr
Nerdcore 2010: Horror (totallynerdcore.com)
Justine Joli
Nerdcore 2010: Horror (totallynerdcore.com)

After the bright moonlight of the roof the inside of the house seemed absolutely black, and Melody eased herself down to the floor cautiously and in complete silence. As her feet touched floorboards the lights came on, startling her despite her knowledge of more or less what was going to happen. She froze, allowing the man who had been waiting to one side of the window to catch her easily, twisting her arms behind her back and quickly cuffing her as he spoke.

‘What have we here then, a burglar, and a girl at that to judge by the feel of you.'

He had taken a grip on the back of her mask, which was pulled roughly down, and as Melody turned her head she found that she was looking up into the face of a tall, dark haired man in full police uniform with a sergeant's stripes on his sleeve. A badge gave his name – Stern – and she immediately thought of the brat spanker of Metrocity. Not that it mattered who he was, because she was helpless, while his voice had been cool and amused with not a hint of mercy. Already her choice seemed insane, and yet her body was responding for all the rapidly building emotions in her head.

‘Let's have a look at you then.'

She was hustled into the middle of the room, an attic completely bare save for a plain wooden chair set close to one wall. Melody swallowed, already sure of its purpose and her bottom cheeks tightened in anticipation of a spanking. He had folded his arms across the breadth of his chest as he stood back, his mouth flickering into a cruel smile as he took her in.

‘Well, well, very nice, and so young. This is your first offence, I suppose?'

Melody managed a weak nod and he went on.

‘I guessed as much. No need to make this formal then, I don't think. In fact what a young girl like you really needs is a good old-fashioned spanking, which is exactly what I'm going to give you.'

She tried to answer, but all that escaped her lips was a whimper. He wasted no time, stepping forward to take a powerful grip on her elbow. Cuffed and helpless, Melody could do nothing to resist as she was frog-marched to the chair and placed across his lap in spanking position. She'd known it was going to happen, and she'd known she needed it before her fucking, but now that she was going to get it her stomach was fluttering and her muscles were twitching in apprehension as he laid one huge hand across the seat of her cat suit.

‘Yes, a good old-fashioned spanking, and then …'

He didn't finish the sentence, but Melody knew what he meant and a sob escaped her lips at the thought, her bottom spanked pink before his cock was inserted between her rosy cheeks, only not up her bottom this time, but into her virgin sex. Not that he was in any hurry, fondling her cheeks through the taut material of her cat suit and applying only the occasional gentle slap to make her cheeks wobble. Suddenly her legs had been hauled wide, to show off the bulge of her pussy, every detail of her lips outlined in tight, wet, black cotton. A finger touched and he'd begun to trace the outline of her sex, setting her gasping and wriggling in helpless response. He gave a low chuckle.

‘Horny little one, aren't you? But you needn't think you're going to get away without a spanking.'

Melody shook her head, very sure she would be spanked, and hard. Again he began to caress her bottom, and to smack, only harder now, with firm, stinging slaps that made her yelp and kick her feet. She knew she'd soon be over the pain, her bottom hot and ready, but that did nothing to dilute it, nor her sense of humiliation as he spoke once more, his hand now resting across the meat of her cheeks.‘

Excerpted from Slave to the Machine by Aishling Morgan, published by Xcite Books.

Copyright (c) 2009 by Aishling Morgan.

If you're an author or a book publicist and you want to participate in the Fleshbot Book Club, send email to Lux Alptraum.

Buy the KinkyStyle 2010 Calendar (kinkystyle.net)
Buy the KinkyStyle 2010 Calendar (kinkystyle.net)
Buy the KinkyStyle 2010 Calendar (kinkystyle.net)
Buy the KinkyStyle 2010 Calendar (kinkystyle.net)
Buy the KinkyStyle 2010 Calendar (kinkystyle.net)
Buy the KinkyStyle 2010 Calendar (kinkystyle.net)

And what a celebration! With a cast containg everyone from Aria Giovanni and Sasha Grey (with stops along the way for Cytherea, Emily Marily, Rebeca Linares, and—hell, just about every woman you've ever been in love with), "High Strung Women" promises quite a feast for the eyes...and some other parts, too. But you don't have to take our word for it: Andrew's kindly provided these preview stills for you to enjoy.

Andrew Blake (andrewblake.com)
Andrew Blake (andrewblake.com)
Andrew Blake (andrewblake.com)
Andrew Blake (andrewblake.com)

No Fauxxx (nofauxxx.com)
No Fauxxx (nofauxxx.com)
No Fauxxx (nofauxxx.com)
No Fauxxx (nofauxxx.com)
No Fauxxx (nofauxxx.com)

This sample gallery—which they've kindly made available to Fleshbot readers—comes from their latest Faye + Georgia extravaganza, "Frisky Friends" (a most accurate description for the couple, if you ask us). Having seen the rest of the set (and some video, too!), we can assure you that this is just the tip of the iceberg...if you'd like to see what we mean, just mosey on over here to find out.

Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)
Little Mutt (littlemutt.com)

The following excerpt is from "Urgent Message," Rachel Kramer Bussel's tale of inflight cybersex.

Brandon brings out the dirty girl inside me, the girl my straight-A, choir and track team member former self could never have imagined. Even now, I retain so much of my good-girl polish, at least on the outside. Before Brandon, I dated guys who would never think of wanting a lady on the streets and a whore in the bedroom. "Whore" probably wasn't even in their vocabulary, whereas Brandon loved to taunt me with it, whispering it in my ear as I teetered on that perilous, wondrous brink of orgasm, knowing that the prospect of being a woman of the night would send me crashing over the edge.

Where are your panties, young lady? was blinking on my screen-in red. Next thing I knew, he'd be going to all caps.

Just a sec, I typed, feeling a rush of wetness soak said item of clothing.

My panties were already skimpy to begin with; I like to travel wearing my sexiest undies to remind me that while I may not have my man with me, I have something to look forward to when I go home. In fact, most of my plain-Jane, boring cotton panties have gone by the wayside in favor of silk, satin, lace and mesh in a rainbow of colors. Brandon has made his mark all over my body, and in my dresser drawers.

I pondered how best to go about this. Removing my bra in the locker room in college without showing my tits was easier than this maneuver would be. I placed the laptop on the tray in front of me, then undid my seat belt, trying to be as silent as possible so as not to attract attention. I reached into the waistband of my skirt and pushed one edge of my panties down one hip, then did the same with the other.

I had to get them down far enough so that I could wiggle them the rest of the way with my legs. My face was hot, and surely blushing, as he continued to type away, the screen refreshing as I squirmed. I wish I could see you slithering out of those panties, wish I could see between your legs to what they were covering. Even though I just tasted you this morning, baby, I miss you already. It's just not the same without you, but I'm trying.

Tell me what you're doing. I have my panties halfway down my thighs, I typed back in a flash, grateful for all those years of temping that had gifted me with the ability to type one-hundred words per minute, or one-handed, if need be. I wiggled against the seat, shifting one leg and hip, then the other, as I felt my panties move slowly down my legs.

Excerpted from "The Mile High Club," an anthology of plane sex stories edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel and published by Cleis Press.

You can read reviews at Erotica Revealed and Adult Friend Finder.

The book is also on sale at Amazon.

Copyright (c) 2009 by Rachel Kramer Bussel.

If you're an author or a book publicist and you want to participate in the Fleshbot Book Club, send email to Lux Alptraum.

Sounds to us like a match made in heaven.

· Everything Butt (everythingbutt.com)
· Preview Gallery (puckerup.com)

No, you're not imagining things: you've just entered the world of furries, documented in Michael Cogliantry's "Furverts," a whimsical board book with twelve photos of hot fursuit action. Depending on your inclinations, the book is either an amusing look at an oft misunderstood sexual subculture or a Kama Sutra for the furry set; either way, we invite you to take a peek at the action inside.

· Buy "Furverts" (amazon.com)

New Sensations has already impressed with their XXX takes on "The Office" and "Scrubs"—so it's no surprise to see that they've lined up a stellar cast of porn doppelgangers for their erotic reimagining of "Seinfeld." Take a look to see how the pornstars match up to their mainstream counterparts.

(Oh, and before you ask: "Gorge" and "Noman" are nonsex roles, and no, we have no idea why Sasha Grey and Sadie West are playing themselves. Maybe famous comedians like "Gerry" pass the time palling around with pornstars?)

Seinfeld: Jerry (Jerry Seinfeld)
Seinfeld XXX: Gerry (James Deen)

Seinfeld: Elaine (Julia Louis-Dreyfus)
Seinfeld XXX: Elaina (Kristina Rose)

Seinfeld: George (Jason Alexander)
Seinfeld XXX: Gorge (Steve Pomerantz)

Seinfeld: Kramer (Michael Richards)
Seinfeld XXX: Crammer (Eric John)

Seinfeld: Newman (Wayne Knight)
Seinfeld XXX: Noman (J. Walker)

Seinfeld: Susan (Heidi Swedberg)
Seinfeld XXX: Suzanne (Natalie Norton)

Seinfeld: Soup Nazi (Larry Thomas)
Seinfeld XXX: Porn Nazi (Evan Stone)

And the obligatory additional female roles:

Regina: Ashlynn Brooke

Video Clerk: London Keys

Teri: Cassandra Calogera

Sasha Grey: Sasha Grey

Sadie West: Sadie West

And, because New Sensations loves us, here's a little bonus gallery of some of this parody's hottest talent. Enjoy!

· New Sensations (newsensations.com)

This may be the first we've seen of Naia... but we have a feeling it definitely won't be the last.

· Lazerbunny (lazerbunny.com)

The report from Lazerbunny headquarters:

Pussy in Stereo is an upcoming girl/girl altporn site brought to you by Lazerbunny International.

All girls all the time, from implied photos to hardcore sapphic sex scenes in videos and full length movies,
Pussy in Stereo will appease all the carnal pleasures you can think of that might happen between 2 girls or 5.
The mistress of the site Gayle Fett has a penchant for hot girl sex, cosplay, and more.

Expect to see Gayle and her girls gettin' it on alot.

Oh believe us, we most certainly will.

Pussy In Stereo (pussyinstereo.com)
Pussy In Stereo (pussyinstereo.com)