From the liner notes

In the good old days of 16mm shmutz, programming was never much of an art form. Storefront cinemas would throw up whatever happened to be making the rounds at the time and, when they ran out of product, pull together a grab bag of whatever odds and ends happened to be lying around in back of the projection booth. This edition of the After Hours Collector’s monthly sleaze-fest follows in this grand tradition, offering up a Whitman Sampler of slightly stale, cream-filled confections guaranteed to make you wish you hadn’t paid the $5.00 admission. Something noteworthy seems to reside in every pile of trash, however, and the present threadbare three-fer certainly contains its quotient of slippery sex and god-awful aesthetics. So standards be damned, let’s start the show...

Melvin Kissem concerns the amorous adventures of three secretaries willing to ante up for an evening of satisfying sport sex with a trio of male studs. That’s right, fellas… gals who pay to screw (and it’s about time!).

In-Flight Service is the work of none other than the After Hours Collector’s good buddy, Charles Lamont (better known to '60s sexploitation fanatics as C. Davis Smith). A pure product of the infamous Kirtman Studios and an off-kilter example of Gotham-born grind-fare, it follows the erotic adventures of two red-blooded roommates - an airline hostess and an exotic dancer.

Fires Down Below “My life is so empty since Brian was killed in Viet Nam,” we hear a ravishing, dark-haired beauty complain in voice-over. She calls aloud for her lost lover, begins to get horny, and caresses herself to orgasm. Still hot in the pants, she manages to maneuver Brian’s army buddy into the sack, referring to him by her dead husband’s name.