Perfectly-shaped mature male bodies are served up by three hefty-but-friendly self-abusers. In a bed, sleepy Valentin in semi-transparent black briefs smiles as he wakes, and touches his bulging, smooth muscles as if he knows that’s what we like to see first thing in the morning. For ten minutes, he teases with semi-revelations of his plumbing, then gets on his knees, huge thighs bulging, and makes his uncut erection ejaculate onto his abs and tits. Grimmer, more serious Gunz showers his red-gold gorgeousness outdoors, looking at us as if begging for release, then, still beaded with water, leans against a stone wall among bamboo shadows and delivers himself of a leaping fly-away load. Cover-man Branson, handsome like the young Harvey Keitel and even better-built, strips on a terrace like he doesn’t know we’re watching, and plays with his own hairy body the way we’d like to do. Then he frankly smiles at us and moves to poolside to exercise in a red-orange COLT jockstrap. He sprawls on stone stairs, revealing his big-headed boner with only ten minutes to go. For the last five, he’s an ecstatic vision, hard flesh on hard stone, his hardest flesh in his hand driving him wild.

RETAILING: Three solos are absolutely what COLT customers want.