Wall-to-wall fans are easy to please. They don't care about plot, acting, clever ad-libs, production design, or locations. All they need are a few good-looking girls who really like to fuck and play other assorted nasty games with their bodies. Assuming there's any gray matter on the table at all, the creation of a quality w-t-w vid should be the proverbial "no-brainer."

Why then, are we constantly saddled with meretricious releases such as these two volumes, which are to the videotape industry what Hare Krishna pamphlets are to trees? There's not much in the way of white-hot sex going on in these volumes... just the usual assortment of positions and facials.

Vol. 12, which is supposed to be "super freaky," get no closer to true freakdom than a girl wearing a leather mask (unless one counts the shot where Guy DiSilva leaks his loan onto Naomi's ear. Ugh.). The previous installments reaches for similar creative heights, as a bunch of second-rate models ply their trade on top of cars in a barrio parking lot.