Amazons (1986)

She’s older, thick, with long wavy blonde hair and tattoos creeping up her neck — lying in dirt and leaves, a live snake coiled around her throat like it’s part of the turn-on. The guy looks early 20s, buzzed blonde hair, defined arms with a tattoo on one bicep — first seen hanging upside down from a wooden frame in what looks like a dungeon, then later shirtless and sprawled in the same forest setting. They meet in a pitch-lit room, her grey-streaked hair flat and straight as she stares dead into the lens with a spider on her scalp. In the medium shots, they’re grinding on the floor, her riding him slow, then doggy style with her back arched and fingers digging into the concrete. He pounds up from behind while she crawls forward, ass high, then they switch to a close-angle missionary with her legs pinned wide. The whole thing’s shot with rough naturalism — no gloss, no cuts to fake reactions, just gritty close-ups on skin, sweat, and the way the light catches the tattoos during movement.