The Other Side Of Aspen III: Snowbound

In the dim glow of the locker room, Johnny Hanson corners Cort Stevens for what he calls a private lesson. The air hums with unspoken tension. Hanson drops his shorts, revealing his thick cock, already straining. Stevens drops to his knees, eyes locked on the prize. He takes it in, inch by inch, until Hanson's length fills his throat completely. Stevens gags just a little, but pushes deeper, lips sealed tight, tongue working the underside with fierce determination. Hanson grips Stevens' hair, guiding the rhythm. Saliva drips down Stevens' chin as he bobs, sucking hard, hollowing his cheeks. The wet sounds echo, raw and urgent. Hanson groans, hips bucking slightly. 'That's it,' he mutters, voice rough. Stevens hums around him, vibrations sending shocks through Hanson's body. Enough teasing. Hanson pulls out, slick and throbbing, and hauls Stevens up. He bends him over the bench, yanks down those pants. Stevens spreads wide, ass presented like an invitation. Hanson spits into his palm, slicks himself up, then presses in. One firm thrust, and he's buried deep. Stevens gasps, clenching around the invasion. Hanson sets a brutal pace, pounding with precision—each slam hitting that sweet spot. Skin slaps skin. Stevens moans, pushing back, chasing the burn. Sweat beads on their bodies, the heat building to a fever. Hanson reaches around, fisting Stevens' cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. It's relentless, a symphony of flesh and need. Stevens comes first, spilling hot over Hanson's hand with a shattered cry. Hanson follows, burying deep one last time, flooding him with heat. They collapse together, spent and sticky, the lesson etched in every trembling muscle.