Review

Leave it to Miss Chi Chi to concoct such a lurid triple entendre. In the Can is a polished assortment of "filmed" performance vignettes. One’s got a lavatory motif, but all of them boast mega cocks being greedily swallowed and feverishly buried... in the can.

While killing time before a shoot, muscly, furry/clipped-chested Paul Johnson gets the hotness going with a lusty self-gratification session on a stepladder. As Paul writhes about prying apart his own tushy hole, in strolls salivatingly gorgeous stud jock Joe Foster and offers a juicy cock for the tasting. Paul greedily deep-chokes on Jason’s sizeable prong, and after some mutual groping and grinding of their cocks underneath each other’s nut sacks, and after a sweaty rim-chewing session, Paul takes a determined bounce on Joe’s stiff cock.

We meet dark haired dreamboat Nick Capra as his face is buried in the seat of a pair of denims worn by even-dreamier Trent Atkins. Trent pokes his own hole a bit and offers a suckle of his well-traveled fingers to Nick. Slurp, slurp. Jeans yanked down, Nick peels off Trent’s tightie-whities and thrusts his tongue into the boy’s tight cherry hole.

Before Trent even has time to completely remove his jeans, Nick’s large beef is firmly implanted between his tight young hungry buns. Then comes some cocksucking for two, then Trent takes yet another bouncy seat on Nick’s lap.

More hot stickiness ensues: Damon Ivy gets it on with Christopher Michaels in the men’s latrine by the urinals, positioned in front of a strategic glory hole. Spying on them is Anthony Holloway, and he enters brandishing a mighty big dick. Christopher sucks 'em both, while a newcomer grabs the vacated glory-hole seat: puppy-dog-adorable Robbie Angel, who proves to be just as devilish a sex-fiend as the rest of the boys when he joins the group and makes it a four-way, rim-chewing, hole-cramming jubilee.

Last, and most certainly not least, is lusciously cute goat boy (i.e. smooth torso, way-hairy legs - yum!) Matt Summers (who, by the way, is also the poster boy for my perpetual erection, don'tcha know). Outside on the veranda, Matt gets his fuzzy caboose tongue-shellacked by me, er, I mean by smooth Kyle Kennedy, who offers a right big bone for Matt to have a hearty bounce on. That he does, and man oh man, when our boy Matt shoots his load, his body convulses wildly and he lets loose a series of throaty moans and grunts that will send a giddy shudder through your bod, too. If that doesn’t thrill you, the sight of Matt’s face getting splattered with Kyle’s pearly spunk surely will.

And that’s a wrap. Or, as our boys say with a flirtatious grin: "Another one in the can!" Yeah, and another gobby wet stain that I need to go wash out of my trousers right now. < smirk >
-Beef Stroganoff