Hole #01

Security monitors flicker with grainy feeds. A shadowed man, face concealed, strokes his enormous cock in slow, deliberate pulls. His gaze locks on one screen that bursts into vivid color. Bare-chested Donnie Dean and Landon Conrad crush their mouths together, hands pumping cocks through thin boxers. Donnie dives in first, sucking with fierce hunger. His hairy chest flexes, nipples stiff as he jaws Landon's thick, curving shaft. Donnie's black leather jockstrap frames his firm ass cheeks like a siren's call. Landon spreads them wide, tongue diving deep, then a probing finger. Donnie joins in, slipping his own finger inside before drawing it out slick and offering it to Landon—who sniffs, then sucks it clean with a growl. A single bare bulb in its rusted hood, joined by those familiar monitors, bathes Donnie in harsh light as Landon thrusts into him on the stained cot. The raw thrust of cock through yielding heat blots out the prison's grim edges, if only for a stolen moment. Donnie turns the tables, flipping Landon and plunging deep. Landon's moans ricochet off cell walls, each one wired with its own bank of screens. Privacy? A forgotten joke here. Donnie hoists himself from ceiling straps, lowering his greedy hole onto Landon's eager mouth as they milk out thick ropes of cum—for the endless eyes of the unseen audience.