Repeatedly throughout this painfully sophomoric endeavor from director and performer Dave Pounder, he turns to his cameraman, who he talks to incessantly during his sexual encounters with a look on his face that belies he can't believe he's getting to fuck these beautiful women. Well, neither can we. It's all badly acted, the long drawn out scenarios being that he represents a bikini talent agency, and he is looking for models. Trevor's camerawork captures the tedious action at bad angles with a too-close framing.
Admittedly, the girls give good performances while Pounder bangs away on top of them, because the many yells and moans and "Oh Yes Yes Yes" can only be the result of studied and remembered reactions of past fucks. At times, Pounder seems to have trouble getting hard or remaining hard, but as is seen in Annie Cruz's scene, she, as do others, deliver barely believable vocal reactions to his ministrations. He does seem to enjoy eating them out, which must have given them some enjoyment.
Retailing: Your younger customers will find this enjoyable.