Biker's Liberty

Sky Dawson sprawls naked across his bed, one hand clutching a sleek leather boot. He strokes its smooth curve, eyes half-closed, lost in a fevered fantasy. Oh, the thrill of discovering a man—strong, insistent—to slide deep inside, filling every inch just right. His breath quickens at the thought, cock twitching against the sheets. Then, as if the universe winks, the door creaks open. Kris Bjorn strides in, all towering muscle and unyielding hunger. Sky's eyes widen, pulse hammering. Kris doesn't waste words. He strips, revealing a body carved for sin, his thick cock already straining, promising excess. He grabs the boot from Sky's grip, smirks, and presses it aside. 'Let me show you real fulfillment,' Kris growls. He pins Sky down, lips crashing in a bruising kiss, hands roaming with possessive fire. Sky gasps as Kris spreads his legs wide, teasing his entrance with rough fingers before thrusting in—deep, relentless, stretching him beyond dreams. Kris pounds harder, each slam a jolt of ecstasy, their sweat-slicked bodies grinding in raw rhythm. Sky claws at Kris's back, moaning into the onslaught, as wave after wave crashes over him, far surpassing any boot-born reverie.