Cruisin' 3

Todd Stevens couldn't tear his eyes away from Carl Erik in the park, that chiseled hunk tossing a ball to his bounding dog, laughter rippling through the air like a siren's call. Desire stirred low in Todd's gut as he watched the two frolic, sweat glistening on Carl's broad shoulders under the sun. Before long, they tumbled into bed together, bodies colliding in a frenzy of hunger. Lips locked in fierce kisses, tongues dancing wildly. Hands roamed, rubbing firm muscles and tracing every curve. Todd dropped to his knees, sucking Carl's huge uncut cock with greedy pulls, savoring the thick shaft that throbbed against his throat. Carl groaned, flipping Todd over to rim his ass, tongue circling the tight ring with teasing flicks that made Todd arch and beg. Fingers plunged in next, priming that hungry hole, slick and ready. Then Carl thrust deep, plowing into Todd's welcoming heat, each powerful stroke drawing out moans that echoed like thunder. The rhythm built to a fever pitch—hips slamming, breaths ragged—until ecstasy crashed over them both, cum spilling in hot, shuddering waves.