Possession

Thick-dicked Kurt Houston stepped into the shadowed legacy of Chateau Tivoli, his inheritance a whisper of the unknown. Whispers clung to the walls: Randy Mixer's ghost, a spectral force unleashing erotic mayhem on every guest who dared linger. In the steamy heart of the kitchen, cook Drew Nolan and bellman Chad Connors felt the chill turn to fire. Pots rattled across counters, knives danced in mid-air. Then it seized them—hot mouths on throbbing cocks, lips stretching wide around rigid shafts. They bent over the scarred oak table, asses exposed and eager. Tongues traced hungry circles, licking deep into puckered holes, rimming with a fervor that blurred the line between man and phantom. Big, fat cocks plunged in next, pounding slick, ready asses with merciless rhythm. The frenzy built like a storm, sweat-slick bodies slamming together until the heat shattered them both, spilling over the edge in shuddering release.