Tales From the Locker Room

For a lithe young twink like Avery Jones, who dreams of sports idols and pilfering their sweat-soaked briefs from the hamper, landing the towel boy gig feels like fate's wicked gift. And oh, the loads it unleashes. Alone in the locker room—or so he believes—Avery inhales the musky jockstraps, sucking them deep, hand flying over his cock. Then Coach Dillon Diaz catches him red-handed. Not the first slip-up. Avery knows the penalty. The burly coach peels off his clothes, down to that lone whistle dangling like a promise. He shoves his thick, rigid dick past the boy's lips. Flips him upside down next, devours his ass with a relentless tongue, probing deep to slick him up. Finally, the coach slides in raw, bareback, thrusting slow and fierce until Avery collapses, a trembling mess, slick with cum—a devoted power-bottom at last.