Carol Cummings, whose main claim to fame seems to be this ability to roll her eyes around like colossal beach balls, uses her gift for high camp facial flutter very admirably in this feature. She had better, because otherwise, we have a pretty marginal shoot here with scenes and a dialogue strung together like mozzarella.
Cummings' husband, Marcus Johnson wants out of their marriage so he can fool around with Sabrina. Only he's locked into one of those pre-nuptial Trump deals, and Cummings is pretty bitchy about tossing it into his face. Though the feature stops dead in the middle of Cummings' sex scene with Johnson, having three of the sexiest ladies in the biz in your cast helps sustain a pretty average tape.