Backflip

Practice had been brutal, but finally it ended. Miklos Orosz trudged toward the showers, muscles aching, only to freeze at the sight in the stalls. Two teammates—Jose Ganatti and Joe Calderon—locked in a heated makeout, lips crashing, hands roaming. The raw hunger hit Miklos like a spark to dry tinder; his cock twitched, hardening fast. He couldn't look away. Hidden in the steam, he wrapped his fist around his swelling length and stroked, slow at first, eyes devouring the scene. Jose dropped to his knees on the slick tile, mouth watering for Joe. He engulfed the thick cock, slurping greedily at the meaty foreskin, savoring the salty knob. His hand pumped the stiffened shaft in firm, rhythmic strokes, drawing out low groans that bounced off the wet walls. Joe, breathing ragged, gripped Jose's hips and spun him around. He plunged in from behind, piledriving that tight ass with relentless force—hard, fast thrusts that slapped skin on skin. Grunts echoed like thunder in the enclosed space, building to a fever pitch. Miklos matched their pace, fisting himself furiously. One by one, they shattered: Joe first, flooding deep inside; Jose next, spilling onto the floor; Miklos last, ropes of cum arcing from his grip in shuddering release.