Shadows In The Night

Ray Butler couldn't shake the ghost of Kris Lord, that leather-clad stud who haunted his every waking hour. Desperate, he dialed up escort Grant King. Over the line, King's voice was smooth as aged whiskey, confirming the appointment while Ray's pulse quickened with anticipation. Meanwhile, in King's sleek apartment, Jason Andrews and Kirk Olson wasted no time. Jason's fingers traced Kirk's chiseled abs, dipping lower to free his thickening cock. Kirk groaned, pulling Jason into a fierce kiss before dropping to his knees. He swallowed Jason whole, lips stretching around the shaft, tongue swirling with hungry precision. Jason bucked, then flipped them into a heated 69—cocks plunging deep into eager throats, moans muffled against slick skin. Kirk's hands gripped Jason's ass, spreading cheeks to expose that tight, puckered hole. He dove in, tongue lashing the rim in wet, circling strokes that made Jason writhe and beg. Impatient now, Kirk rose, slicked his throbbing length with spit, and drove home. He pounded Jason's ass with relentless rhythm—short, sharp thrusts building to long, grinding strokes that left them both slick with sweat, chasing release in a frenzy of flesh on flesh.