Morning Wood

Cade Maddox lay alone in bed, his massive cock thick and raging with morning need. He swung his legs over the edge and rose, spotting Isaac Parker by the pool, hand wrapped around his own stiff shaft, stroking slow and deliberate. 'Good morning,' Cade called, voice low. Horny eyes locked on Cade's bulging tent, Isaac sauntered over, drawn like a moth to flame. Any dawn breaking with that monster in your mouth promised paradise—Isaac dropped to his knees and swallowed it whole. He pushed hard, throat bulging, savoring the gag that came with every inch. Cade gripped his head, thrusting deeper, until he yanked free and flipped Isaac over the bed's edge. Face buried in that warm crack, Cade lapped and spat, slicking him up with eager saliva. Isaac glistened, ready; Cade pressed his huge meat against the tight ring and drove in, inch by unyielding inch. It pinched fierce, but Isaac fisted his own cock, moaning as he claimed every throbbing bit of that fuck-stick. They shifted—Isaac straddled Cade, sinking down to ride him raw, chasing depths that stole his breath. The rhythm built wild, electric, until Isaac sprawled back, legs wide. Cade pounded relentlessly, forcing a thick rope from Isaac's tip, the sight flipping Cade's switch. He pulled out and unleashed, painting that spent hole with hot, messy spurts.