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Hollywood is at Fault and to Blame!

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Ass

Movies have made me the voyeur that I am and I am suing.

I do not hide the fact that I am a voyeur, a voyeur who loves exhibitionist women. Oh, yeah, I love to watch, especially if you love to show.

When I think about women wearing short skirts that shows their long, shapely, shaved legs and the triangular patch of white or pastel panty when they sit even with their legs tightly closed, that is a real turn on for a voyeur like me. Then, when they wear a low cut top that reveals the deep line of cleavage that separates their round, firm, and succulent breasts, (Is it hot in here or is it just me?) one could say that most women are a bit of an exhibitionist. Still, women do not have to wear revealing clothes to exhibit their bodies. It could be a form fitting outfit that drives us voyeur men wild. How many times has a woman wearing a snug turtleneck sweater been enough to raise our pulses to a faster beat and our libido to out of control status?

“Uhm, Dorothy, can you step inside the meat locker, I, uhm, just want to see something.”

“Sure, Freddie, what is it?”

I watch, okay, I stare, alright; I leer at Dorothy as she enters the freezer as the cold temperature develops more than a chill in her.

“Cold in here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s freezing. So, what did you want to see?”

“Nothing.”

She looks at me staring at her breasts with my mouth in the oval shape of a baby wanting to suckle her tits to nurse, looks down at herself, and covers the impression that her nipples makes in the tight jersey material of her powder blue sweater with her hands and storms out.

“Pig!”

Yet, I have been with an exhibitionist woman (Hi, Tina). My ex-girlfriend was an exhibitionist and I wrote about her in my story Exhibitionist Women Meet Voyeuristic Man. Okay, she did it because she knew that I got off on watching guys looking at her and wanting her. Boy, she could raise my voyeur meter to hard heights. Nonetheless, the games we played at the mall with those poor, unsuspecting shoe salesmen and on the road with those surprised but happy truck drivers were memories that fueled my lustful desire for her. Yet, I digress.

I was not always like this. I was normal once many years ago before Technicolor, color television, R rated movies, X rated movies, Bo Derek, VCR’s, DVD’s, blockbuster movies, Blockbuster Videos, Paparazzi, Tabloids, and the Internet. Now, look at me, I am the shell of the man that I could have been. I am weak in the knees by a big bust, lightheaded by a round, firm ass, and a sucker for legs that promise me a journey to Heaven when I climb their length and devour the point where they join together with my tongue and culminate our mutual satisfaction and pleasure by inserting my cock harder, deeper, and again.

Movies! Yeah, that’s right. Movies! I blame my voyeurism on movies and on the movie industry as a whole. You got a problem with that? They are all at fault and are all responsible and are all held liable for my medical condition, Voyeurism Addiction. In my class action suit against Hollywood, as a whole, I intend to prove my case with, what else, movies. Movies are my evidence of what they have done to me and to others.

It finally occurred to me that they the Producers, Executive Producers, Directors, Unit Directors, Assistant Directors, Writers, Editors, Film Editors, Cinematographers, Directors of Photography, Composers, Set Designers, Set Decorators, Production Designers, Casting Directors, Fashion and Costume Designers, Production Coordinators, Makeup Artists, Hair Stylists, Production Managers, Unit Managers, Production Supervisors, Special Effect Supervisors, Sound Effects Supervisors, Visual Effects Supervisors, Gaffers, Grippers, Cameramen, Assistant Cameramen, Electricians, Lighting Technicians, Drivers, Animal Handlers, Production Assistants, Dialogue Coaches, Accountants, Technical Advisors, Script Supervisors, Location Managers, Assistant Location Managers, Stunt Doubles, Actors, Actresses, and et al, have conspired in making me the pervert, er, I mean, the voyeur addict that I am today.

In my time of anguish, sorrow, depression, and sexual excitement, I need all of you men who share my addiction and all of you women who are subject to our stares, leers, catcalls, rude behavior, and groping to join me in my unprecedented, multi-billion dollar class action lawsuit against those evil ne’er-do-well moviemakers. Please, for all of you women who have been the victims of voyeurism, make yourself known, kindly come forward and e-mail me a nude photo of yourself so that I can not add it to my case but enjoy the image of your nakedness before I go away for therapy, that is, once I win this case and receive my huge settlement.

For me, it all started with Psycho in 1960. How many of you could ever forget that shower scene with Janet Leigh, as Anthony Perkins raises his knife to stab her? Sure, that is a violent scene, but it was hot, I mean, terribly disgusting, especially back then in the days of innocence, Howdy Doody, and Hola Hoops.

Yet, niğde escort if Psycho was not enough, Hollywood opened the flood gates of the sexual revolution turning back the pages of time to the days of decadence of the Roman Empire with the movie Caligula in 1960. Even by today’s standards, nearly 50 years later, Caligula is still a movie that you would not want your children to see. Yet, unfortunately, today there are videos games that are more sexually explicit than Caligula and that, indirectly, is Hollywood’s fault and they need to pay for delivering such a hardcore, pornographic film to the silver screen.

Let’s have a raise of hands. In the days before breast implants and silicone gel, who among you would not want to have Ursula Andress in your bed in the way that she appeared in a bikini in Dr. No in 1962. I still have my poster of her posing with her stomach pulled in and her chest puffed out. Oh, my God! To think that Hollywood took advantage of that innocent woman.

It was sexual overload when Hollywood released that movie in 1966, One Million Years BC with Raquel Welch covered in the briefest of animal skins. I don’t know what it was about Raquel that made me crazy with desire for her, okay, maybe I know of a couple of things, a couple of round things, but after watching that movie over and over again. Forgive me for praying, again, but oh, my God! How could they make a movie like that when man was not on earth until millions of years after the dinosaurs vanished? More Hollywood lies. Yet, I will tell the truth in court.

Do you remember the movie Cool Hand Luke in 1967 with Paul Newman? I never realized how soapsuds and washing a car, an old heap of a rusted car could be so erotic until you watched a busty woman wearing just a thin, flimsy and revealing cotton dress, without bra and/or panties; press her bodacious body against the car windows while washing the car. Sorry, I did not mean erotic, I meant to write boldly wicked. They will go to Hell for shooting that scene but I will make them pay handsomely before they go.

The Graduate with Dustin Hoffman and Anne Bancroft in 1967 had two hot scenes. One was when Mrs. Robertson, Anne Bancroft, was propositioning Benjamin, Dustin Hoffman, by uncrossing her legs and exposing more than her motives to him. Then, there was the scene when she strips naked while asking Benjamin to fetch something in her bedroom and reappears in her bedroom naked and closes the bedroom door behind her before Benjamin has a chance to exit. Wow! I mean, disgraceful and disgusting. I was deeply offended.

Who could forget the surreal wonderment of the Stanley Kubrick’s movie the 2001 Space Odyssey in 1968? It was a remarkable movie of technology, the first in wide screen, surround sound, and one that amazed and astonished you with the spectacle of cinematography and the calming computerized voice of Hal 9000, until, that is, they had the crew strip naked to disinfect. Boy, I do not know how many times I watched that scene (as research for my school science project, of course,) but all the women were bushy. I was so embarrassed for them, yeah, that’s it. I was embarrassed watching that one scene over and again. Hollywood will pay for that, too.

Okay, I realize that there are few Jane Fonda fans once she took a stand against the war in Viet Nam, but you must admit that her starring role in Barbarella in 1968 was another one of Hollywood’s masturbation movie. What the Hell was that movie about anyway other than seeing Jane Fonda’s tits? That movie was the reason why her poor father, Henry Fonda, and her poor mother, Katharine Hepburn retired and hid themselves away in Golden Pond.

Sure, Fay Dunaway is as flat as a board but who among you would not have thrown her a bang after watching her in the Thomas Crown Affair in 1968 with Steve McQueen. That scene with the two of them playing a game of chess was hot and she was sexy. I know that it made me want to master the game, unfortunately, that one scene in the movie ruined the pleasure and enjoyment of playing chess because every time I set up the chess board to play, I got a huge erection. Not good. I felt violated and Hollywood must pay.

Now, how cuckoo was the movie Clockwork Orange when it came out in 1971. Another one of Stanley Kubrick’s masterpieces, I was scratching my head because it was nothing like I had ever seen before. It made me angry. Then, there was that rape scene when he cut away the important parts of her red jump suit. That was shocking! Your Honor and ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I rest my case, oh, no, not yet, not by a long shot. I have more evidence, so much more.

Long after watching him in A Street Car Named Desire, The Wild One, and On the Waterfront and especially after seeing him in the Godfather movie, you would not think of Marlon Brando as a sex symbol. Yet, there he was in the Last Tango in Paris 1972 naked with Maria Schneider. Now, that was a hot movie. She was naked throughout most of the movie. Do you feel a theme ordu escort building here? Yes, of course, I was offended. I thought the movie was the last in a series of instructional videos that would teach me how to Tango should I ever make it to Paris. Wrong.

What about Francis Ford Coppola’s low budget thriller, The Conversation in 1974 with his voyeuristic look of marital infidelity? That movie held me at the edge of my seat and I felt like I was listening to personal and sexual conversations along with Gene Hackman. That movie was so rude, an invasion of privacy, and an illegal wire tap, wasn’t it? Class action lawsuit.

Okay, let’s admit it with a show of hands. How many of you went out and bought the record Ravel’s Bolero and tried to recreate that bedroom scene with your honey after watching Bo Derek with Dudley Moore in 1979 in the movie 10? (Actually, the only good song on the entire record was that one song.) And that scene when she is running along the hot, white sandy beach will remain with me to my deathbed. I’m scarred. I still have dreams, er, I mean nightmares. By the way, white women should never braid their hair like that.

“Look, even though Freddie is dying, he’s smiling.”

“That’s because the pig is dreaming of Bo Derek, again. Look at his cock. He has an erection.”

The tough woman veneer and sultry voice of Kathy Moriarty as Vicky Thailer in Martin Scorsese’s Raging Bull in 1980 did it for me. I was hooked watching her presence on the screen. She had scenes where she upstaged both Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci. It was an amazing film, er, I mean, it brainwashed me. Yeah, that’s it, that movie washed my brain.

Okay, I’ve written about this movie before in my story, Celebrities: Insert Name but Angie Dickerson in Dressed to Kill in 1980 in that taxicab scene where that guy removes her panties and has his way with her is still one of the hottest scenes ever, I mean, of course, one of the most disgusting scenes ever. Have they no consideration for the person who has to use that taxi next?

“Hey, it smells like fish in here? Mohammed, have you been eating sardines in your cab, again?”

Richard Gere and Lauren Hutton in American Gigolo in 1980 was a movie filled with lustful desire, marital infidelity, and sex. I wanted to fill that space between her front teeth, I mean; I was terribly offended by the disgusting premise of this movie. Everyone knows that America has no gigolos. You have to have a foreign accent, like Charles Boyer or David Niven or Julio Inglesia to be a gigolo. (By the way, I am not a gay man, but Richard Gere had a way better ass than the flat ass that Lauren Hutton had in that movie.)

Never will I forget the scene of Jessica Lange wiping the kitchen table clean (except for all that white flour) of food, pots, and pans, to have sex with Jack Nicholson in the 1981 movie, The Postman Always Rings Twice. That movie is responsible for a lot of broken dishware and kitchen tables in the years to come in my house. Oh, yeah, we’ll be adding the replacement cost of tableware and furniture in my lawsuit due to this movie. Not to mention, people have to eat at that table. Have they no respect? That was so hot, er foul.

You could feel the sex ooze from Kathleen Turner in the movie Body Heat made in 1981 with William Hurt. There was something about her sultry voice that made my mind race with all the dirty things that I wanted to do with her. I still hear voices today, er, I mean, I can still hear her voice today and they, those evil moviemakers, will pay for that.

Risky Business, 1983, with Tom Cruise and Rebecca De Mornay, I chose this movie only because of Rebecca De Mornay and that one scene where they have sex. Man, she was a good looking woman and a woman that gave me many lustful dreams and the cost of washing all those wet, cum stained sheets will be part of the residual costs that I demand in my lawsuit. By the way, there is just something so offensively wrong about Tom Cruise in white briefs, don’t you think?

Brian De Palma’s Body Double, 1984 with Craig Wasson, Melanie Griffin and Deborah Shelton was a strangely twisted movie. Yet, although it was great to see Melanie Griffin topless, I mean, enjoying the sun, there was something erotic about Deborah Shelton in that movie. Okay, she was beautiful and had a hot body but she had something that made you never look away from her image. Then, that scene where Jake Scully, played by Craig Wasson, watches Gloria Revelle, played by Deborah Shelton, through the glass store window try on panties was well, really hot. Unfortunately, because of that movie and that scene, I can never walk into a Victoria’s Secrets or a Fredericks of Hollywood without wanting to spy in the dressing room. For the fear of being arrested should I give into my sexual desire and spy in a dressing room, which I never have, really, well, only a couple of times, those evil moviemakers will pay for all the off the rack Fruit of the Loom underwear that I had to buy my woman instead.

I osmaniye escort don’t know about you, but I could watch Kim Bassinger all day just standing still and doing nothing. “Okay, Kim, can you turn a little to the right and bend over, now.” Nine ½ Weeks with Kim Bassinger and Mickey Rourke in 1986 was one of the movies that everyone talked about, especially that scene with the ice cubes. It is because of that movie that I had to foot the extra cost of installing an icemaker. Oh, yeah, Hollywood will be paying for that, too.

Who would have thought that Glen Close was so hot until she played opposite Michael Douglas in Fatal Attraction in 1987? “Nice tits Glen.” (Who would name their baby girl Glen? Maybe, it is short for Glenda.) Still, I don’t know if I would have cheated on Ann Archer. I mean, she was pretty hot herself especially in that scene where she is in her panties. Yet, because of the scene where Glen Close cooks the bunny, I can no longer enjoy Easter. Seriously. Lawsuit.

There is something about Ellen Barkin that makes me bark like a dog. I love her. I think she is so sexy and cute with her crooked little face. When she played Anne Osborne in The Big Easy in 1987 opposite Dennis Quaid, you could feel the sexual tension seeping off the movie screen. Only, it was so wrong to tease me with all of those sexy scenes of her. I’m suing.

Back in 1991, I would have given my right nut to be in the back seat of that Thunderbird with Susan Sarandon and Gina Davis in Thelma and Louise. I am sure that I could have given Brad Pitt some competition with Gina Davis and who could turn away from Susan Sarandon’s rack? Then, to drive that classic car, okay, it’s only a Ford, but still, it was so wrong to destroy that car. They need to be held accountable and liable for that travesty.

Sharon Stone is one of my favorites. I would stop whatever I was doing to watch Sharon Stone, even if she was just in a commercial. She played her spectacular self as Catherine Tramell in Basic Instinct in 1992. The scene where she slowly and deliberately crosses and uncrosses her legs and oops, she forgot to wear her panties is classic voyeur exhibitionism and the reason why I am suing the movie industry today, those bastards. That scene encouraged and reinforced my voyeurism addiction. I can never ride the subway, again without staring at the women sitting across from me in a skirt hoping that she will slowly and deliberately cross and uncross her legs.

Okay, did any of you think that Holly Hunter had such a hot body that she so freely displayed in Jane Campion’s The Piano? This movie in 1993 is the main reason why I am the voyeur that I am today. Do you remember Harvey Keitel lying on the floor to peek up her skirt as she played the piano? And what about her husband, played by Sam Neill, watching her having sex with Harvey? Now, that was a hot scene, er, I mean, totally disgusting and against the teachings of the Catholic Church. I’d have Father O’Malley testify at the trial but, after leaving the priesthood and shacking up with Sister Mary Francis, his testimony is not worth shit.

It does not get any better than watching Neve Campbell make out with Denise Richards in the movie Wild Things in 1998. Also, there is even a little something, actually, a lot of something, for the women (and gay and bi-sexual men) when Kevin Bacon steps from the shower in full frontal nudity. I don’t know what to say. Every time I watched this movie I was shocked and totally outraged that his cock was bigger than mine, I mean that they would show frontal nudity.

How hot was Shannon Elizabeth as Nadia in the movie American Pie in 1999. I felt like I was there with her in the room when they watched her change her clothes on web cam. Whenever I see that scene, I think invasion of privacy. I think lawsuit.

Nicole Kidman reminds me of the woman next door. She is one sexy siren that I never tire of watching. The movie Wide Eyes Shut with her then husband Tom Cruise was worth the price of the ticket just to watch her parade around the room topless and in just panties. Is it any wonder why she divorced Tom Cruise after he destroyed her innocence forcing her to pose nude in that movie. Then, that swingers’ party was as wild as Stanley Kubrick’s imagination; that was one twisted scene. I can still hear the beat of the music with those hypnotically droning voices in the background in my head and the reason why I am claiming emotional damages. I’m scarred and have nightmares. Okay, maybe, they are not really nightmares but naked dreams of some of those topless women but they can never prove in a court of law that they are not nightmares.

When I get up on that stand to give my testimony in court, I am asking permission for the jury to preview the disturbingly erotic movie, er, neurotic movie, the Secretary in 2002 with James Spader playing E. Edward Grey and Maggie Gyllenhaal playing Lee Holloway, his secretary. It was disgusting to watch and to witness their bizarre relationship. When the boss bent his secretary over his knee, pulled up her skirt and spanked her in a display of sexual, sadomasochistic behavior, I could not believe my eyes. It took me, at least, a dozen times forcing myself to watch that movie, over and again, before I could believe what I was seeing. Terrible, it was just disturbingly terrible.

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