Steam Heat

Dick Fisk pounds the track, sweat slicking his lithe body under the relentless gaze of his coach, Tom Anza—a macho force with a whistle and a hunger that burns hotter than the summer sun. Mid-stride in the grueling workout, a sharp cramp seizes Fisk's leg, buckling him to the dirt. Anza's there in an instant, strong arms scooping him up, guiding the pained runner to the shadowed cool of the locker room. Alone now, the air thick with musk and unspoken tension, Anza eases Fisk onto the bench. He kneels, buries his face between those firm cheeks still framed by the sweat-damp jockstrap, tongue tracing the salty edges before delving deep to rim him slow and thorough, drawing out gasps that echo off the tiles. Fisk arches, craving more. Anza stands, sheds his shorts, his thick cock rigid and ready. He lubes up quick, positions himself, then thrusts in—deep, unyielding—fucking his star athlete's tight ass with raw, commanding strokes that build to a shuddering release.