Like most Private features, the sex is pure gold and the plot is tarnished brass. Clark plays a fellow iwth a week to live; so he lives it up. Okay, it ain't Henry Miller, but then again death of a Salesman never had even a scintilla of gorgeous babes being reamed in the ass or chugging down quarts of steaming spoo. At least not the road version.
Basically, Clark gets a chance to show of his voyeuristic side (although he does participate in a few of the hotter encounters) as he videotapes his buddies pulling a train on a number of whores, picking up bar sluts and generally making all manner of d.p. merriment with whatever poontang is available at the moment.
Slim redhead Mona Lisa is almost given a personality as Clark's understanding wife, who seems to love him from afar... although that hardly prevents her from sucking off two strangers in a club. (Unfortunately, the double pop shot is interrupted by a special effect.) Mona's ministrations are handled much better as she juggles Clark and Nikita in the nom-worthy d.p. climax, which finds both of the gals taking a long drink from his jizz fountain.
Any moron could predict the "shock" ending... yet the fudge-packing and jizz-yodeling comes fast and furious in DMV, which features a spate of real, sumptious locations. Need we say more?