Private Workout

Lee Jennings manned the front desk, the gym still hushed in the early morning light. Greg Conrad and Chris Stone strode in ahead of schedule, their energy cutting through the quiet. Greg stretched, eyeing the tanning beds. 'Gonna catch some rays,' he said with a grin. Lee nodded, then turned to Chris. 'Wipe down the ellipticals, will you? Make 'em shine.' Chris grabbed a rag and got to it, muscles flexing under his tank top. Lee's pulse quickened at the sight of Greg peeling off his shirt, that thick bulge straining his shorts. He couldn't wait—his mouth watered for Greg's big cock, heavy and waiting. As Greg settled into the booth and gave the subtle nod, Lee dropped to his knees, right between those powerful thighs. He freed the beast, lips parting to take it in, slow and deep, savoring the salty heat. Then Chris wandered back, eyes widening at the scene. Greg beckoned him closer. 'Join the fun.' Chris knelt beside Lee, their mouths converging on Greg's shaft—tongues swirling, lips sucking in tandem, a slick symphony of hunger. Greg groaned, hands tangling in their hair. But soon, Chris found himself the center of it all, sandwiched tight between the two men. Greg thrust into him from behind, relentless and full, while Lee claimed his mouth, their bodies locking in a fevered rhythm. Chris gasped into the kiss, lost in the squeeze. And before long, both he and Lee knew the thrill firsthand—Greg's girth stretching them wide, pounding deep until ecstasy claimed them all.