When Matt Windsor can't get any loving from his boyfriend and then discovers a matchbook from a sex club, he doesn't need Miss Marple to figure it out for him. Windsor heads for the club, which looks like a set for a leather bar. His own sexual odyssey eventually brings him face to face with his straying lover. They screw on a motorcycle, then Windsor tosses the matchbook at his boyfriend and stalks off.

Along the way, there are scenes of other couples getting it on but everything takes place in isolation and there's never a sense of sex club fever or men on the prowl. Production is run-of-the-mill and the cast is not quite prime beef – it's doubtful that we'll see any of these guys getting snatched up by Falon or Catalina. Even the box copy is semi-literate.