Big Bang

Mark Baxter stirs awake in his San Francisco perch, coffee steaming in hand, the city's golden light spilling across the bay. Another flawless day. He leans toward the window, gaze dropping to the verdant garden below. There, two young bucks—Lon Flexx and Matt Gunther—stroll the lush grounds, easy in their morning routine. Matt pauses, unzips his fly with casual grace, and hauls out his long, thick cock. He unleashes a steady stream, pissing freely into the earth. The sight hits Baxter like a spark to dry tinder. That massive prick, bold and unapologetic, stirs him deep. Arousal surges. He strips and steps into the shower, hot water cascading over his taut frame. His hand finds his own hardening length, stroking with urgent need. But he craves more. He grabs the shower shot, presses its tip against his rosy hole, and eases it in. Warm water floods his muscular cavity, stretching him wide, filling him to the brink of ecstasy and strain. He holds it, breath ragged, until his body screams for release. Then he lets go. Water erupts from his stretched hole in a wild spray, relief washing over him like a lover's sigh. His buttocks unclench, soft and spent. All the while, he pumps his erupting hot prick, chasing the peak. Climax crashes through him, explosive and raw.