Two girls write letters back and forth to each other, describing their sexual exploits in clumsy, minimal detail. Hey, that's a sexual correspondence. Sometimes they just talk on the phone. Eventually they are united in Hollywood, in bed, and get to fuck the plumber, pool man, and other respectable members of the blue collar strata.

Six scenes covering the usual depts.: g/g, two d.p.s, and a bathtub pussy-shaving extravaganza. All pairings have a dead, pain-by-numbers quality. The creamy faces and naked torsos of Emily Hill and Gina Rome grace the box cover with the Hollywood sign in the background, but zero credits on the tape puts the renter at a disadvantage as to who, what, and why.