The soloboy stands naked, vulnerable, yet empowered in the center of a circle of expectant men. The air is thick with anticipation and the musky scent of testosterone. The first shot of cum hits his stomach, a shock of warmth that spurs him on. He grips his cock, pumping furiously as the room erupts into a symphony of grunts and groans. Cum splatters across his body, dripping down his chest, his back, even into his hair. He's a canvas of sticky, glistening ropes, his body slick with the collective desire of the room. His own orgasm rips through him, a powerful release that leaves him gasping, his body coated in the messy aftermath of Llet Nostra.