Possession

In the shadowed heart of the chateau, Kurt Houston ignites a single candle, its flame dancing like a secret finally revealed. He ascends to the attic, steps creaking underfoot. The light sputters, dies in a puff of smoke. He strikes another match. There, materializing from the gloom, stands Randy Mixer—solid, hungry, eternal. Their arms entwine, bodies crashing together in a rush of recognition. Lovers torn across centuries, they know this fire burns true. Clothes shed in frantic pulls. They dive into the heat, urgency sharpening every touch, every thrust—time's thief might steal it back any moment. Kurt bends low, fingers gripping his ankles, spine arched in raw invitation. Randy's massive cock rears up, a spectral battering ram poised to claim him. Possession surges, raw and unrelenting, sex as the ultimate haunting.