Colt, the body queen, willingly tends to Belmonte's neglected cock. His hands, strong and sure, grip the base, stroking in tandem with his eager mouth. He face-sits, smothering himself in Belmonte's crotch, his tongue lapping at the pre-cum beading at the tip. His own cock tents his jeans, evidence of his enjoyment in servicing Belmonte's massive pipe. The room fills with the wet sounds of Colt's oral worship, Belmonte's grunts, and the slap of flesh against flesh.