Behind Closed Doors

Tom Steele stood there, his cock straining against the tight fabric of his jockstrap, when Mike Gregory dropped to his knees. Gregory's mouth latched on through the mesh, sucking with a hungry rhythm that made Steele's hips buck. They stripped each other bare then, shirts and shorts hitting the floor in a frantic scatter. Gregory lay back, legs splayed wide, as Steele flipped him into a 69—Gregory's mouth engulfing Steele's throbbing length while Steele buried his face between those firm cheeks. But Steele didn't stop there. He hoisted Gregory's butt over his shoulders, tongue plunging deep, then sliding his cock in to top him with slow, deliberate thrusts that built to a fever pitch. The door creaked open. Mike Ramsey stepped in, still fully clothed in his sharp button-down and slacks, eyes locked on the scene. Without a word, he unzipped and pulled out his thick cock, already hard and leaking. He moved to Gregory's head first, feeding it into that eager mouth, then strode around to the other end, sliding between Steele's lips for a quick, teasing suck before thrusting into Gregory's ass alongside the rhythm. Steele watched, a sly grin forming, before pulling back. He left the finish to Ramsey, stepping aside as the older man took over, pounding Gregory until he spilled with a guttural moan. Ramsey zipped up and vanished as quietly as he'd arrived. Gregory dressed slowly, buttoning his shirt with a knowing wink at Steele. Only then did the truth dawn: this entire evening, every heated moment, had been Gregory's clever setup from the start.