Next we have The Best of Everything, not to be confused with the 1959 Joan Crawford potboiler. This plotless succession of couplings comes with live sound (the better to hear impromptu giggles and off-camera directions) and a dispassionate narrator who introduces each loop as a shining example of porno expertise circa 1970. Things look up (as it were) as none other than CANDY SAMPLES, the Grandmother of Gobblers, turns up in a scene our narrator introduces as "phenomenal." In boner-friendly closeup, her aged tongue whirls like an outboard motor, and her trim, two-toned love stubbles (part auburn, part gray) prove to be the best groomed of the lot. You gotta hand it to Candy; even in her journeyman days, the woman exuded class. Ms. Samples returns for an encore performance during the grand finale, a five person schtup-a-thon during which a moaning, groaning, mop-topped lummox gets his staff of righteousness righteously preyed upon by two chortling teeny-boppers. The twitching guy literally squeals like a pig, much to the amusement of his alluring tormentors, each of whom displays dense webworks of knotted vaginal fibril.
Gaze into the crystal ball of the fortune-teller. Three beautiful women are given a glimpse into their erotic future. Three women about to embark on a sexual journey into the realm of female lust where they become lost in the velvet folds and caresses of other beautiful women.