Nothing like a non-stop splooge fest to brighten the day of any self-disrespecting porn hound, and Mon Amour offers up plenty of decent looking ladies who seem to crave nothing more than a heaping stucco coating of anonymous man jizz.
Not to spoil it for anyone, but don't be mislead by the title. What's love got to do with it? (By the way, "Amour" is Frog speak for love, dropout). Not a damn thing. Which is perfect. What isn't perfect with this semen-saturated feature is the sheer overkill. It's death by repetition, load after load is jettisoned, yet the hum drum quality of the performances makes it all seem like just another day on the assembly line at the cum factory.