Colt 45 is looking good. She drew intense, beady-eyed stares and leers as she walked through the noisy, crowded casino and into the elevator. Nothing unusual. He's our photographer. Colt's used to the ogling. The strong, silent type, Colt takes it in stride. Her outfit was designed for maximum boobage display, a real eyepopper. She wears it well. She unwears it even better. Somewhere in America, in some dark club, a guy is getting his face pummeled by Colt's tits. How many noses have been pulled into that deep cleavage? Even Colt has lost track.