Billy's Tale

Erik Houston strides into the dimly lit loft, his eyes locking onto Glenn McAllister already lounging on the leather couch, shirt unbuttoned to reveal taut abs. Jake Andrews follows close behind, kicking the door shut with a grin that promises trouble. They don't waste words. Glenn drops to his knees first, unzipping Erik's jeans and freeing his thick cock, already straining against the fabric. He takes it deep, lips stretching wide, tongue swirling around the head with practiced hunger. Erik groans, fingers tangling in Glenn's hair, guiding the rhythm—slow at first, then urgent, saliva glistening on his shaft. Jake watches for a beat, then sheds his clothes in a hurry, his own erection bobbing free. He kneels beside Glenn, their mouths alternating on Erik's length, trading off with sloppy kisses that taste of salt and desire. Erik's breaths come ragged now, but he pulls back, voice low and commanding: 'On the bed.' They scramble, bodies colliding in a tangle of limbs. Glenn bends over the edge, ass up and inviting, while Jake slicks his cock with lube and presses in—slow, deliberate thrusts that make Glenn arch and curse. Erik positions himself at Glenn's mouth again, feeding him every inch as Jake pounds harder, hips snapping with raw force. The air thickens with moans and the slap of skin. They switch, seamless as a well-rehearsed dance: Jake on his back now, Erik riding him reverse, tight heat clenching around Jake's girth. Glenn kneels over Jake's face, getting rimmed with lavish strokes of tongue before Jake's mouth engulfs his cock, sucking greedily. Erik grinds down, chasing friction, his own hand stroking Glenn in tandem. Sweat beads on their skin; the room echoes with gasps. They build to frenzy—Erik pulling out to let Glenn take his turn inside Jake, ass cheeks spreading wide under the onslaught. Cocks throb, mouths devour, until release crashes over them in waves, hot spurts painting chests and thighs, leaving them spent and sated in a heap of twisted sheets.