This time John Leslie lacks for that salty liquid, despite one of his hotter exploits with Shauna McCullough. He sees overblown Jewish doctor Richard Pacheco {a very funny non-sexual role) to cure his problem, only to flash back to the similar situation he had with Amber Lynn in the first Sweat soaper. Pacheco can't solve his new dilemma, but Alicia Monet, looking the best she ever has, can. The sex scenes in this sequel are very erotic, except for the Krista Lane/Rocky Delorenzo hump which suffers from special effectitis. No wonder Leslie can't sweat while in the room with them. But the technical merits are typical of Spinelli's usual fine work and Michael Ellis' screenplay is one of the year's funniest. Lovely looking box cover (different than the normal pretty girl shot) should ensure retailers' some decent numbers.