As Sexy As Drinking Paint Thinner: I Watch the Gene Simmons Sex Tape

Categories: Sex

I -- this is not a joke -- gagged even reading the words "Gene Simmons Sex Tape."

"I couldn't bring myself to watch it," my buddy Casey was saying over Instant Messenger, shipping me the URL. "You need to do this. I need to know."

I'm curious, I admitted. I was also revolted. The power of procrastination combined with the power of suggestion, though, and I decided I had to do this. For Casey. For you. For America.

For SCIENCE!

Here's my running diary:

4:03 p.m.:I click the link to Fleshbot, where the sample is hosted. Even the still photo is revolting. I don't know if I can do this. Casey urges me to be strong. I reach for the Dramamine.

4:04 p.m.: I click "play." GenesSecret.com is displayed on the screen. He is, thank the maker, wearing a shirt. The man is almost 60, for crying out loud. Soft, cheesy music plays. It takes me 15 seconds before it hits me.

Holy God. That is Foreigner's "I Want To Know What Love Is."

(Later, I will be a little disappointed it's not "Lick It Up" or even "Love Gun." But for now, I'm bedazzled by this revelation. The 1970s big-hair anthem is disturbingly appropriate.)

simmonssextape.jpg

4:06 p.m.: Simmons' partner -- who is a much younger blond, in pigtails and a corset -- starts to stroke the Genie Weenie. My stomach starts to rebel against lunch. Casey informs me that the woman in the video is his longtime partner, former Playboy Playmate Shannon Tweed. This is not, in fact, true, but it impacts my viewing experience considerably, so I'll note it now. There is halfhearted mouth behavior that used to get you arrested during the time of ubiquitous sodomy laws. It is as sexy as drinking paint thinner.

4:07 p.m.: After putting on a condom (stay safe, kids!), Gene clumsily and unceremoniously rolls the woman onto her back and mounts her. He looks for all the world like an arthritic gibbon. Gene's pants remain around his ankles, as we can see from the edge of the bed. Gene commences The Act of Love as Lou Gramm croons:

I WANNNNNAAAA KNOW WHAT LOVE EEEEEEEES ...

I WANT YUUUU TUUU SHOWWW MEEEEE ...

Her bosoms are not heaving. My stomach, however, is.

4:08 p.m.:
The girl is wearing flip flops. Her breasts are disturbingly large, obviously augmented. This is as lustful as watching my neutered dog hump the air, as he sometimes does when disturbed.

Note: I would not blame the dog if he began humping air now. Fortunately, for everyone, he's asleep on the couch.

Gene leans in for the kiss ...

4:09 p.m.: ... SHE TURNS HER HEAD AWAY. The following exchange occurs between me and Casey:

Me: "Holy shit, rejected for the smooch while paying for sex. I have just added Gene Simmons definitively to the list of people I hope to never be."

Casey: "Paying? That's not a prostitute -- she's his WIFE!"

Again, this turns out not to be the case. And Gene Simmons is not married to Shannon Tweed anyway. But keep in mind that during the following sequence I believed it utterly.

4:10 p.m.: Gene goes again to kiss his "wife". Again denied.

She is the Dikembe Motumbo of kiss rejection. It is a marquee performance. Gene zigs, she zags -- it's like watching a bloated Wile E Coyote trying to catch an aging, world-weary road runner. You can't help but think of Julia Roberts' character in Pretty Woman, who refused to kiss her sex partners because the gesture is too intimate.

4:11 p.m.: The woman compromises by putting her left arm around Gene, the only act of feigned affection he's getting during this mechanical act. She's still visibly ducking the kiss, but is apparently hoping the cursory half-embrace will make him stop.

This is his wife? I think. Really? How bad must Gene's breath be at this point?

4: 13 p.m.: She's still wearing the corset, but her giant breasts are hanging out of it. Perfunctorily, Gene moves off her and lies on his back. She gets on top and Gene honks her breasts like they are twin, silicone bicycle horns.

Finally -- after three sexual positions -- she kicks off her flip-flops.

4:14 p.m.:
Now she's squatting on top of him, moving up and down gingerly as if peeing on a toilet seat that is too cold! now just right! too cold! now just right! Finally, she loses her balance and nearly falls off Gene (or is she trying to get off of him and run away?).

Gene reclines, hands behind his head. He has either had an orgasm or is losing interest, and it is honestly difficult to tell.

This site says the woman is an "Austrian energy drink spokesmodel," and as it turns out, her name is "Elsa."

You may draw whatever conclusions from this you like. I choose these lessons:

1. The difference between a loveless marriage and purchased sex is really not much, visually.

2. Never, ever watch a sex tape involving Gene Simmons


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