Compulsion: He's Gotta Have It

Steam rises from the hot tub, curling around Chad Knight's toned body as he lounges in the bubbling water. Scott Hogan watches from the edge, his gaze hungry, pulse quickening at the sight of those broad shoulders and lean hips. He can't resist. Scott eases his stiff cock free from his tight speedo, the fabric whispering down his thighs, and beckons Chad with a sly grin. Come play, he murmurs, voice low and inviting. Chad's eyes darken with want. He strips off his own speedo in one fluid motion, the wet cloth slapping the deck. They collide in the water, mouths eager, hands guiding each other. Chad drops low first, taking Scott's thick shaft deep into his throat, lips stretching wide as he swallows every inch. Scott groans, threads fingers through Chad's blond hair, then returns the favor—his tongue swirling around Chad's pulsing length before plunging down, throat contracting in rhythmic pulls that leave Chad gasping. Scott's patience snaps like a taut wire. He craves more, needs to claim that tight ass. He spins Chad around, parts those firm cheeks with strong hands. One finger slips in first, slick with water and lube, probing gently, then a second joins, twisting and scissoring to coax Chad open. Chad arches, moans spilling out, his body yielding like warm wax under Scott's touch. No more waiting. Scott positions himself, the broad head of his cock pressing against Chad's entrance. He thrusts in slow at first, burying himself to the hilt in one deliberate push. Chad cries out, clenching around the invasion, but soon rocks back, urging deeper. Scott obliges, fucking him hard—first from behind, water splashing wildly, then flipping Chad onto his back for a pounding face-to-face, legs hooked over shoulders. They shift again, Chad riding him reverse, grinding down with abandon, the hot tub churning into a frothy storm. Scott's climax builds like a gathering wave. He pulls out at the last second, strokes himself furiously, and erupts—ropes of hot cum splattering across Chad's chest and abs, marking him in sticky white trails. But Scott's not done. He wants the show. Kneeling close, he slides two fingers back into Chad's slick, gaping hole, curling them against that sensitive spot inside. Chad bucks, hand flying to his own cock, pumping the thick shaft with urgent twists. His release hits fast—seed jetting out in powerful spurts, painting his stomach as Scott's fingers milk every last drop.