Summer Buddies

Cliff Parker cruised down the sun-baked road when he spotted a topless hitchhiker, Rob Cryston, thumb out and bare chest gleaming. He pulled over, the engine humming low. Cryston slid into the passenger seat, all easy smiles and lean muscle. Back at Cliff's garage, gratitude turned hungry. Cryston dropped to his knees, wrapping his lips around Cliff's thick cock, sucking with a rhythm that pulled moans from deep in Cliff's throat. He worked it slow then fast, tongue swirling the head until pre-cum slicked his chin. Then Cryston bent over the workbench, spreading his smooth cheeks to reveal that tight, pink asshole. Cliff dove in first with his tongue, lapping and probing the puckered ring, tasting the clean salt of skin. Cryston gasped, pushing back. Cliff rose, gripping his hard shaft, and pressed the blunt tip against that eager hole. He thrust in deep, filling Cryston inch by inch, their bodies slapping together in the dim light, sweat mixing with the scent of oil and desire.