Forget Jamie Huxley and most of the cast there's mainly two reasons why this movie earns my golden erection: Tiffany Rayne. In this once in a blue meanie scene, she sluts her way into my dormant heart infested w/ hate like strutting fishnet insight. Wake up, peckerheads. Key number one to her power here is pink cordinated thong n’ fishnets to frankenberry hue’d bald pussy and a magically delicious black garter belt like you never get to bust a slushee over. I shall hark the herald of any porn babe who takes the time to find the right outfits to light up the left hand path to paradise. Rare directors who pay attention to this highly important facet also get my props when they show it and let it shine. Naked sex on camera can be almost as boring as most of what probably goes in the bedrooms of America or even the love nests in the rest of this cesspool world. Hoes get dressed, this is pornography. That’s just how it should be according to my abstract notion of erotica. Not the Madonna record, nor Playboy TV, I’m talking hardcore truth like the Tiffany Rayne scene on here. Key number two to her effectiveness to the porn orgasm is the eye contact to the utmost. You hoes gotta give it to me because you know it’s for me baby, forget about the money. That’s what you’re getting paid for. Dish it over for this alone, dudes.
There’s also Alyssa West and her jugunda jellied boulder bags that may be too big for some whiners, but I wouldn’t mind wrapping them around my piller of steel like the grand pillow canyon. These are in the Lisa Sparxxx ‘hood of meat headlights, but more importantly the blue eyes are glittering gemstones to my boner where Shakespeare fears to tread. Harry Palm will make your tallywacker burn like a wicker effigy. Just get the fuckin’ flick already.
http://www.stoneycurtisxxx.com/display.php?film=207
that's why I love ya, baby! 
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