Diary of a Sex Addict

Kurtis Wolfe locks eyes with Hunter Smith across the bar, the air thick with unspoken hunger. He grabs Hunter's wrist and hustles him into the employees-only nook, kegs looming like silent witnesses. Their mouths crash together in a fierce kiss, tongues battling for dominance. Hunter drops to his knees fast, his lips stretching wide around Kurtis's thick cock, throat working to take it all, gagging just a little on the girth. From the shadows, Colton Reece spies on the two studs, his breath catching as they devour each other beside the cold metal barrels. Hunter pulls off with a gasp, lips slick and swollen, but Kurtis isn't done. He yanks Hunter's jeans down, revealing that smooth, round ass—begging to be claimed. Kurtis buries his face in the cleft, tongue plunging deep into the tight pucker, tasting the heat there. Spit slicks everything as he laps and probes, then slides two fingers inside, twisting them in rhythm with his hungry mouth. Colton's gaze burns hotter, hidden but riveted. Kurtis rises, grips Hunter's hips, and thrusts his bare, fat rod in from behind—no mercy, no pause. Hunter, the perfect eager bottom, shoves back hard, meeting every pounding stroke, his body arching like a bowstring pulled taut. They shift; Hunter flips onto his back, legs spread wide, offering his prostate up like a prize. Kurtis hammers deep, but that vise-tight hole milks him relentlessly. He can't hold it—pulls out and unleashes, painting Hunter's entrance with hot, fresh cum, ropes splattering the smooth skin. Kurtis slides his spent cock back in, slick with his own load, as Hunter strokes himself to release. Thick jets arc across his abs, marking the territory of their frenzy. Spent and grinning, they straighten up. But as Hunter steps out, he bumps into Colton, whose smirk says it all: 'I saw every thrust. Now I want a taste of that sweet ass too.'