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Cole Streets, that shaved-head rogue with a devilish edge, wraps his lips around Tristan Phoenix's rigid cock. The thing's a beast—heavy and unyielding, impossible to ignore, sprouting from a body sculpted to perfection and a face that could charm the stars. Cole pumps his own tempting length while devouring Tristan's, his tongue swirling with raw hunger. He lavishes Tristan's balls with equal fire, sucking and milking until the shaft rams the back of his throat, leaving him gasping, eyes watering. Tristan clamps onto the bedposts, hips bucking as he feeds his rod to Cole, who's on all fours like a supplicant at an altar, taking every thrust as Tristan fucks his mouth deep and relentless. They switch, fluid as a dance. Now Tristan drops to his knees, swallowing Cole's full girth, inch by throbbing inch, then nuzzling those massive balls with greedy pulls. Cole grips Tristan's head, driving forward with fierce rhythm. He pounds Tristan's mouth like a storm breaking, only yanking free at the last second to erupt, ropes of cum painting Tristan's face in hot, sticky triumph. The sight shatters Tristan—he surges up, spilling his own load in a wild, shuddering release.