Maybe it's not such a bad thing that Jasmin St. Claire is, at least for the moment, getting out of the fan fuck-gangbang racket, 'cause her performance in what is billed as her swan song to that genre is hardly anything to write home about.

Throughout the tape's 98 minutes, St. Claire frequently comes across as if giving viewers hot, nasty sex to stroke to is fairly low on her list of priorities. She often seems distracted and more interested in the pure mechanics of the shoot, routinely staring into the camera with a dumb-founded expression whenever there's a momentary lapse of dick in her pussy.

Which is too bad, since St. Claire is a major piece of statuesque ass capable of good performances when she wants to. And to be completely fair, she does come alive at times here, depending on the size and motion of the particular fan who's boning her (Andrew, a chubby young virgin who she deflowers, isn't one of them).

Such moments, however, are few and far between. And she doesn't take a single facial either. Damn.

Fortunately, director John T. Bone has on hand two supporting starlets, Annie Anderson and Crystal Dawn, who are much more into things than the leading lady is. Both give smokin', high energy, trash-talkin' performances throughout and are, in fact, the source of whatever heat can be found here. That includes one particularly abandoned sequence in which all three girls, with attendant guys attached to their pussies, crawl into the same frame like a pack of crustaceans in heat. It's arguably the high point of a frequently uneven tape.

P.S Note to director Bone and all other industry helmspersons: In the future, can we please lose the clichéd '80s metal Muzak on the soundtrack? House and/or Industrial would be so much more contemporary.