The 25 Most Nauseating Hookups In Movies

Inarguable fact: Leighton Meester is very hot. Viewers of The CW's hit teen drama series Gossip Girl are well aware of the starlet's sexiness, which, thanks to Meester's playful charms, radiates even more whenever she gives an on-camera interview. She's a gifted actress who, frankly, deserves much better than hackneyed psycho characters in tepid thrillers like The Roommate and throwaway love interest roles in forgettable romps like That's My Boy.

In the new indie comedy The Oranges (opening in limited theatrical release this Friday), Meester gets the chance to be both funny and alluring, playing a young lady who falls in love with her older, married neighbor (House graduate Hugh Laurie).

There's just one problem, though: No guy in his right mind wants to see Hugh Laurie get any action, especially if it's with a beauty who's 27 years his junior. Hell, it's painful enough scoping her get it on with Gossip Girl co-star, and similarly aged peer, Ed Westwick.

The May-December romance at the heart The Oranges is definitely uninviting, yet put side-by-side with any of The 25 Most Nauseating Hookups in Movies, it's actually not so bad. Brace yourselves for some truly stomach-turning action.

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Written by Matt Barone (@MBarone)

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Just think about what would happen if alien life forms really were prowling around the streets of Earth searching for males to mate with and looking like Natasha Henstridge—we'd all be screwed.

Say that was the reality of picking up chicks in bars and nightclubs: There's a beautiful blonde eyeing you up from across the bar. You approach her, buy her a drink, and feel warm inside once she asks to see your apartment. Inside your bachelor pad, she undresses, grabs your head, and starts wrestling your tongue with hers. Sounds pretty sexy, no? Sure, until her alien spear-like tongue gets violent, makes you panic, and jabs a hole into the back of your skull.

Still reluctant to use Match.com?

You have to feel bad for Paul, the doomed Cabin Fever protagonist randomly played by Boy Meets World alum Rider Strong. All his life, he's harbored intense feelings for longtime BFF Karen (Jordan Ladd), and on a trip to that grand old horror movie staple, the cabin in the woods, he finally gets the chance to make his move. It's just too bad that a flesh-eating virus has been spreading throughout the woods, and it's made its way into his friends' current vacation spot.

Late into writer-director Eli Roth's feature film debut, Strong's character snuggles up next to Ladd's in an effort to comfort her, being that she's fallen extremely ill. Letting his hand do the comforting, Paul notices that his fingers, which have ventured "downstairs" and are giving Karen the moans, feel quite gooey; lifting them up close to his eyes, he sees that they're covered in blood.

Why? Because Karen's thigh is virus central, rotting away as chunks of skin fall off and give the red stuff room to flow. Where's a batting glove when you need one?

Why wouldn't director Woody Allen want to star in his 1995 romantic comedy Mighty Aphrodite? Even though the legendary filmmaker resembles Mr. Smithers with a more proportioned head and reading glasses, the proud New Yorker gets to cavort with beautiful actresses like an in-her-prime Mira Sorvino. Now that's business and pleasure!

Still, it's impossible not to cringe whenever Sorvino's character, hooker/porn star Linda Ash, gets frisky with Allen's expectedly neurotic Lenny Weinrib. By imagining what Sorvino would be like in bed, the same thoughts attach themselves to Allen, and that's not something you want to creep into dreams, whether during the day or at night.

In the pantheon of silly spoof comedies, Not Another Teen Movie is the subgenre's Casablanca when compared to dreck like Epic Movie and Meet the Spartans, so let's cut the film some slack here. When the movie premiered back in 2001, jokes about the Sarah Michelle Gellar/Ryan Phillippe horny teen drama Cruel Intentions were in vogue, meaning that Not Another Teen Movie's producers would've been slacking off had they not included a gag inspired by Gellar's sloppy smooch with Cruel Intentions co-star Selma Blair.

Rather than give viewers another hot girl-on-girl saliva session, though, Not Another Teen Movie mines humor by pairing sexy Mia Kirshner with the much older Beverly Polcyn. An over-exaggerated amount of stringy spit connects their lips, forever ruining any potential fantasies featuring Mia Kirshner and Sarah Michelle Gellar teaching each other how to properly French kiss.

If there's one thing Jason Voorhees hates more than people thinking he was the killer in the first Friday the 13th movie, it's the thought of two pretty young folks having premarital sex. A tradition in the popular slasher movie franchise, the seemingly undead hockey-masked murderer's penchant for slicing up victims in mid-coitus is one of his many charming qualities, and in Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday (false advertising, obviously), Jason ends intercourse in the craziest of manners.

A couple of anonymous, well-groomed targets (aren't they all in Friday the 13th flicks, though?) are enjoying some hanky-panky in a tent, out in the woods, with the naked girl riding her male suitor like a Texas bar's mechanical bull. Just as the guy is about to climax, Jason rips through the tent with his trusty machete, pulls the blade upward, and slices the girl in half, spraying her blood all over the poor guy who'd probably never have sex again. It's probably a good thing that Jason offs him shortly after.

Based on novelist William Hjortsberg's Falling Angel, an exceptional work of horror noir fiction, director Alan Parker's criminally slept-on 1987 adaptation Angel Heart isn't without its share of creepy moments. It's an assured exercise in suffocating dread, aided tremendously by Mickey Rourke's sympathetic performance as a private investigator who's knee-deep in the occult and Robert De Niro's dark turn as his enigmatic employer.

There's also The Cosby Show's Lisa Bonet all grown-up as the film's voodoo-loving eye candy. The second Bonet gets naked and starts riding Rourke like he's Mr. Ed, any traces of Bill Cosby's wholesome values are quickly forgotten. Especially since the sex scene is covered in gallons of blood and a nightmarish aesthetic that lends the sequence an uncomfortably icky vibe instead of a pleasurable one.

Early on, Alan Ball's in-your-face adaptation of writer Alicia Erian's novel Towelhead announces itself as an atypical look at a teenage girl's coming-of-age struggles: Main character Jasira, a 13-year-old, is forbidden to use tampons by her strict, mean father.

As if talk of combatting her monthly woes wasn't uncomfortable enough, Towelhead's nastiest moment comes once Mr. Vuoso (Aaron Eckhart), the father of the kid Jasira babysits, finds a way to convince her to have sex with him. Telling her that he's about to leave for Iraq, Vuoso preys upon Jasira's naiveté and confused emotions, and there's nothing worse than an adult predator who beds girls before their Sweet 16 bashes even hit the pre-planning stages.

There's nothing understated about 2001 Maniacs, the over-the-top remake of Herschell Gordon Lewis' already ridiculous 1964 splatter flick Two Thousand Maniacs! In the 2005 film, a bunch of college students tragically happen across a Georgia town filled with psychotic Civil War re-enacters and other oddly dressed killers.

One of the murderers is known simply as the Milk Maiden; played by softcore porn star Christa Campbell, she's best remembered for tricking the film's resident nerd, Nelsan (Dylan Edrington), into thinking she actually wants to have sex with him. Naked and rubbed up against him, she suddenly pushes a hose into his mouth and pours what appears to be moonshine into it and forcibly down his throat. As it turns out, it's actually acid. And you thought gonorrhea burned.

When you're profession is "video game tester" and you still live at home with mom, chances are that girls aren't exactly lining up outside your bedroom door. So who can blame Jeff (Nick Swardson) for stretching the logical rules of dating? The fact that the much older Grace (Shirley Jones) shows even a modicum of interest in him is something dude can't pass up?

But that doesn't mean viewers looking for some cheap Happy Madison laughs in the underrated moron comedy Grandma's Boy need to stomach such geriatric smut, let alone imagine it. The sight of Shirley getting hot and frisky with Jeff is, frankly, one small step for a (probably virginal) nerd and one giant leap toward the sick tank for the rest of mankind. It's funny, yes, but nowhere near sexy.

Obviously, only one-half of this hookup is the stuff of gag reflexes. Back in the '80s, Heather Locklear was one of the baddest chicks in the game, a blonde number with stunning facial features and tight curves that should make modern-day equivalents like Blake Lively and Amber Heard insanely jealous. And in the schlocky, fun sequel The Return of Swamp Thing, Locklear spends a good amount of time in a one-piece lingerie look, which, it goes without saying, upgrades an otherwise campy flick into must-see territory.

That is, everything except the moments when she and Swamp Thing get romantically close. For a scientifically mutated bog creature, Mr. Thing definitely has some impressive game; he's able to make the sexiest woman around fall head over heels for him (or it?), but that also means ST and Locklear's Abby Arcane get a little physical. Watching her "go green" is only erotic for casual gardeners and marijuana growers.

As its happening, Min-sik Choi's physical connection with younger actress Kang Hye-jung in Oldboy isn't nauseating; in fact, it's a good thing, since Choi's character, Oh Dae-su, just finished a forcible hotel room lockdown for 15 years. The man deserves some action.

The nausea develops, though, once the movie's knockout of a twist rears its ugly narrative head [Spoiler Alert]: Mi-do, the beautiful sushi chef who has taken a liking to Oh Dae-su, is actually his daughter. It's a testament to director/co-writer Park Chan-wook's storytelling abilities that this reveal is even more sickening than watching Oh Dae-su slice his own tongue up as a form of self-induced punishment.

Leave it to producer Roger Corman to turn a sequence where a buxom blonde beauty gets physically seduced, and subsequently killed by an oversized maggot, into something that's actually kind of sexy.

In the cheesy but memorable 1981 sci-fi flick Galaxy of Terror, a crew of space explorers die one by one at the hands of a monster force that uses the human travelers' worst fears against them. One of the characters, hot technical officer Dameia (Taaffe O'Connell) is petrified of slimy little insects, so, naturally, she meets her maker while being attacked by the aforementioned maggot.

Only, what starts off seeming like a rape shifts tonal gears as Dameia appears to get turned on by the huge bug's humping, slobbering, and ultimately fatal foreplay. As she dies, you'd think she's reaching climax. There are certainly worse ways to go out, that's for damn sure.

French filmmaker Catherine Breillat has earned a reputation as one of cinema's most provocative crushers of cinematic taboos, and anyone who's seen merely one of her movies knows why. Take 2001's Fat Girl, for instance: Arguably her best work to date, the naturalistic, unflinching look at an overweight teenage girl's coming-of-age features a couple extended sequences of underage sex, acted out by the title character's promiscuous older sister.

With the chubby Anais (Anais Reboux) watching, while totally awake, in a neighboring bed, Elena (Roxanne Mesquida) intensely makes out with a new beau (Libero De Rienzo) before letting him introduce her to her first anal tryst. And the experience isn't a happy one for Elena, nor Anais, and especially not anyone who's able to stick around and watch Fat Girl's most jarringly assaultive moment of a rude sexual awakening.

There's a very specific audience for Kevin Smith's aggressive brand of potty-humor and overly smutty comedy, and in Clerks 2, the typically raunchy sequel to his classic indie breakthrough Clerks, the shameless writer-director reached new heights of mirthful disgust.

The scene in question, which shouldn't come as a surprise for anyone who's seen the movie, is the "donkey show" moment, where a poor jackass is forced to endure some homoerotic man action. Even for Smith, "Kinky Kelly and the Sexy Stud" is shockingly vulgar, not to mention very queasy.

In case anyone is wondering why he or she has never heard of the 2008 Canadian horror-comedy Gutterballs, allow this scene description to explain why no distribution company ever bothered to promote the film.

Set in a bowling alley where a homicidal maniac kills off people in exceedingly overboard ways, writer-director Ryan Nicholson's Z-grade gore exhibition reaches its apex of bad taste when a pair of lovers (Scott Alonzo and Danielle Munro) tangle themselves up in a "69" position during a sexual encounter. And just like that, the killer, clad in goofy bowling attire, walks out of a bathroom stall, palms both of their heads, and pushes each cranium further into the other person's crotch, suffocating them both.

One thing's for sure: Don't expect a stateside Gutterballs remake anytime soon.

Oh, that Lea Thompson—what a trooper. How else can you describe a talented, attractive actress who's wiling to simulate intercourse with a ridiculous looking alien duck? In a movie produced by George Lucas, no less?

Proving that she's (foolishly) down for whatever, Thompson goes all in and sells the image of a gorgeous female rock-n-roller getting freaky beneath the sheets with Howard. Whether's its classifiable as bestiality or intergalactic perversion, Howard the Duck's most reckless moment needs to be seen to be believed. Only once, though. Pupils can only withstand so much torture.

Discussing Emanuelle in America in any way, shape, or form unavoidably implies that one has voluntarily watched the film, so let's keep the descriptions short and sweet here. You know, to avoid sullying anyone's reputation.

A benchmark in sexploitation cinema, the 1974 French film Emanuelle gave way to a series of progressively raunchier sequels, the first of which was Italian director Joe D'Amato's Emanuelle in America. Since all of the erotic franchise's entries can be boiled down to the same "hot chick bangs numerous people" synopsis, the films need a little something special to stand apart from the pack. For Emanuelle in America, that extra touch comes, pun intended, in the form of an erect horse. A well-hung equestrian thespian afforded the chance to have beautiful star Laura Gemser rub and tug on its member.

Not that we've seen the movie, though. That'd just be sick. Please believe. No, really, please believe.

The concepts of pedophilia and jailbait go hand-in-hand with author Vladimir Nabokov's controversial literary classic Lolita. The same goes for its two movie adaptations, though Adrian Lyne's 1997 version outweighs Stanley Kubrick's highly revered 1962 film in terms of overall viewer discomfort.

The reason: Made in more progressive times, Lyne's Lolita features a titular adolescent girl (played by Dominique Swain, who was only 17 at the time of filming) who's presented in more provocative ways. So whenever middle-aged Professor Humbert Humbert (Jeremy Irons) puts the moves on her, it's even sicker than anything seen in Kubrick's subtler take.

Anyone who's experienced the mesmerizingly idiotic Sucker Punch, even those who won't admit to guiltily enjoying Zack Snyder's overblown fantasy-action misfire, would jump at the chance to see angelic beauty Emily Browning in the buff—that's a no-brainer. Imagine the buzzkill reactions, however, when said Browning enthusiasts watch her rather awful 2011 art-house picture Sleeping Beauty and realize that her birthday suit consistently rubs up against naked old dudes.

Oh, and she's drugged the entire time, deep in sleepy land, and unaware that the respective geezer's wrinkly skin and saggy junk is pressed against her exposed flesh. Sucker Punch doesn't seem so bad anymore, does it?

Maybe it's the fact that Vincent Gallo, on a good day, looks like one of those hairy porn stars you'd find starring in an old '70s porno found in your father's sock drawer. Or perhaps it's Gallo's directorial choice to use extreme close-ups to capture his money-shots, made all the more queasy through the employment of a handheld 16 mm camera. Whatever the case may be, though, his controversial 2003 indie film The Brown Bunny repulses whenever it's trying to be sexy.

At one point in The Brown Bunny, Chloe Sevigny, playing Gallo's "love interest," moves her lips downstairs after the ever-romantic actor/director/writer unzips his pants; as the legend goes, the fellatio performed is all the way real. Thus, seeing Sevigny, um, swallow is that much more revolting, because, you know, it's "real."

A piece of advice: Don't ever show your girl—or any female, for that matter—The Brown Bunny. Doing so would leave your little friend without any companionship for years after.

Every single hookup in writer-director Michael Lichtenstein's disturbing 2007 horror-comedy Teeth qualifies as immensely nauseating, considering that Dawn O'Keefe (played nicely by Jess Weixler) has a rare case of "vagina dentata." And, yes, that means exactly what you're thinking: Her nether regions are packed with chompers.

And, yes again, those private teeth can't help but bite off the joint of any guy who's unfortunate enough to anger her during sex. Which happens more than once in Teeth, but never more sickeningly than the sequence in which Dawn thinks she's bumping uglies with a decent guy, for a change, only to find out that he's just as scummy as the next soon-to-be-dickless fella. See, it pays to be chivalrous.

The late Italian horror master Mario Bava's many influences are regularly seen in damn near every genre film to come after his own reign of excellent cinematic terror, which ended with 1980's batshit Inferno. And no type of horror picture bears as heavy an amount of Bava cues as the slasher film, which the director all but invented, or at least perfected and revolutionized, with classics like Blood and Black Lace and 1971's Twitch of the Death Nerve.

In the latter, about family members getting gruesomely slaughtered while hoping to receive a lofty inheritance, Bava stages a brilliant piece of elaborate homicide that's been copied since, namely in Friday the 13th Part II. As two young lovers knock boots in bed, the killer rams a huge spear into both of their chests from under the mattress, simultaneously murdering them and, more importantly, making ready-for-whoopee viewers talk their sex partners out of having intercourse anywhere near a Serta product.

In every second of John Waters' infamous comedy Pink Flamingos good taste is laughed at and degradation reigns. So, really, any scene in the film can be considered nauseating, though, admittedly, also hilarious and trainwreck watchable.

One key moment involving cross-dresser extraordinaire Divine and his/her on-screen son, the wonderfully named Crackers (Danny Mills), takes the Pink Flamingos sexual cake (the overall cake, of course, goes solely to Divine for his/her devouring of steaming hot feces). Coming in a close second to that shitty image is the sequence in which Divine and Crackers, for no logical reason, enter someone else's house, lick and rub everything in sight, and then engage in oral sex to let off the steam acquired from tonguing down staircases and furniture.

Some might call that the "Oedipus complex"; others, however, would opt for "OMG," before vomiting profusely.

Out of respect for the dead, talking about the bizarre 2007 documentary Zoo requires a certain amount of tact. True, it'd be easy to crack wise about a guy who died due to complications from having sex with a horse; to be specific, he acquired peritonitis after letting the Seabiscuit lookalike be the giver during anal intercourse. But zoophiles are really out there, and, as heinous as their preferences may be, they are people, and knowing that Kenneth Pinyan lost his life as a result of his horse attraction is sad, not funny.

Granted, it's also cause for men to clench their derrieres in secondhand agony, but that's neither here nor there.