By Invitation Only

Cort Stevens wrapped up his stripping routine, peeling off the last scrap of fabric with a teasing grind. His skin gleamed under the dim lights, every muscle taut from the performance. Mystery guest Matt Gunther lounged in the shadows, eyes locked on Cort's exposed form. 'Finger yourself for me,' Matt commanded, voice low and insistent. Cort obeyed without hesitation. He spread his legs wide, one hand sliding down his chest to grip his hardening cock, the other dipping lower. His fingers circled his entrance, slick with lube, then pushed inside—first one, then two—thrusting slow and deep. He gasped, arching his back as pleasure coiled tight in his gut, his free hand stroking himself in rhythm. Sweat beaded on his brow; his breaths came ragged. Only then did Matt step into the light, shedding his own clothes with deliberate calm. Recognition hit Cort like a spark—Matt, the one he'd craved. No words wasted. Matt closed the distance, flipped Cort onto all fours, and drove in hard. His cock filled Cort completely, pounding with relentless force. Cort moaned, pushing back to meet every thrust, the slap of skin echoing sharp. Matt's hands gripped his hips, bruising just right, as he fucked deeper, faster—delivering the raw, aching release Cort had been starving for all night.