Released: Jul 01st, 1994
Running Time: 80
Director: Ernest Greene
Company: Wicked Pictures
Cast: Shayla LaVeaux, Marc Wallice, Tom Byron, Joey Silvera, Peter North, T.T. Boy
Critical Rating: AAAA
For the most part, I've never been a proponent of outré fashion statements in sex, preferring my couplings kept simple, modest, uncluttered, and unclothed.
For that reason I've never much appreciated the genre of theater guild sex that espouses fucking as some form of costumed psychodrama, equipped with defined regalia and ceremonial folderol resembling a Moose lodge induction ritual.
In order to fully appreciate Shayla's Gang, then, one must offer meditation on Shayla's costuming—a soupcon of sexual suggestion, housed in a filigree of Houdini escape garb. Her wrists, ankles and neck are padlocked. Her sexy thighs are encased in material that ought to bear the name "Michelin Radial" on the sides; her corset would constrict Madonna into submission; and her leather-textured bra could sling deadly boulders in the direction of sex-starved Phrygians.
In other words, you've got to be into the spirit of the look to get beyond the obvious idiosyncrasies this production has to offer.
Shayla's marqueed in three different and well-executed scenes, which arc wound around a newlywed couples' discussion about fantasy and fulfillment. (Newlywed and already fantasizing about other partners?)
During the course of her phantasmagoria, Shayla receives a good butt flossing by Alex Sanders on a doctor's examining table. Sanders wrings out his dick good to the very last drop in her ass. She also gets d.p.'d by Marc Wallice and Tom Byron in a leather party sequence that could have been outfitted by Heinrich Himmler; and is lowered, via webbing, into a waiting chorus line of outstretched dicks. Marc Wallice, again, deploys his weapon for the honors.
The overall production and camerawork are solid and fluent and as elaborate as a gang bang-style tape will allow without getting geometrically implausible or implausibly stupid. The sexual subject matter will keep bon vivants interested enough, but body aesthetes will be jumping off buildings like The Hudsucker Proxy.
With a great body like Shayla's this tape is, resoundingly, a Washington-style "cover-up".