Beach Rats

Thunder rumbled over Fort Lauderdale on that wild, stormy night, wind whipping the palms as dealer Manuel Skye slipped into the hot tub with Roman Todd. Roman had the cash ready for the deal, but Manuel had other plans—his hand grazed Roman's thigh, eyes promising more than a quick exchange. Surprise flickered in Roman's gaze, but when Manuel's mouth closed around his hardening cock, sinking low in the steaming water, Roman surrendered. To seal the transaction, he'd give it all. They tumbled into the bedroom, steam still clinging to their skin. Roman seized control, dropping to his knees to worship Manuel's thick, uncut shaft. Lips stretched wide, he sucked with hungry precision, tongue tracing every vein. But Roman craved deeper— he flipped the tattooed rogue over, spread those firm cheeks, and dove in, rimming Manuel's tight hole with lavish strokes that left the man gasping. Greed for that cock pulled Roman back; he couldn't quit the taste. They twisted into a fevered 69 on the rumpled sheets, mouths devouring each other—Roman deep-throating Manuel while Manuel's tongue teased his balls—until Manuel's patience snapped. He needed to claim. Roman bent over the edge of the bed, ass arched high. Manuel pressed in raw, every thick inch breaching that snug resistance. It was a vise, but Manuel thrust steady, burying himself to the hilt. The hung stud hammered bareback, skin slapping skin, until Roman flipped the script. He straddled Manuel, impaling himself on that massive dick, riding hard as Manuel bucked up from below, filling him completely with relentless pumps. Buried deep in Roman's heat, Manuel teetered on the edge. He rolled Roman onto his back, legs splayed wide, and drove in fierce. The rhythm shattered Roman—cum erupted from his throbbing cock, splattering his chest in hot ropes. Manuel grinned at the sight, the fresh load gleaming like forbidden fruit. He leaned down, lapping up a salty taste from Roman's skin. Savoring the flavor on his tongue, Manuel withdrew and unleashed his own torrent, blasting Roman's smooth hole and heavy balls with thick, creamy spurts. When the storm subsided, Manuel scooped up every stray drop, then sealed the night with a deep, cum-slicked kiss—tossing in a fat stash of weed as the perfect afterglow bonus.