Foul Play

Vince Rockland lounged in the sun-drenched villa, far from home, but duty tugged him back for a moment. He dialed Cort, voice clipped and casual. 'Everything good?' A quick yes, and he hung up, eyes already drifting to the tangle of limbs on the king-sized bed beside him. Devyn Foster knelt there, his strong hands parting Steve Fox's firm cheeks, revealing that juicy hole, slick and eager. With a wicked grin, Devyn eased in the huge butt plug—thick, unyielding, stretching Steve wide until he gasped, body arching like a bowstring pulled taut. Steve's breath hitched. He straddled Vince then, sinking down onto his rigid tool, riding with fierce rhythm, hips grinding in desperate circles. Sweat gleamed on their skin. Devyn watched, stroking himself, until impatience won. He claimed his turn, flipping Steve onto all fours and plunging deep, the plug discarded like yesterday's news. Their moans filled the room, raw and urgent. At last, Devyn turned to Vince, pinning him down with a lover's dominance, thrusting into him slow at first, then hard, bodies slick and locked in a frenzy of release.