Mercury Rising

Travis Wade spots the car of his dreams gleaming under the showroom lights, and raw lust surges through him like wildfire. His mind fogs, consumed by nothing but that sleek machine. In fevered dreams, he sprawls across the wide leather back seat, fingers wrapping tight around his throbbing cock, stroking slow at first, then with urgent rhythm that builds to a shuddering peak. He rises then, stripping bare to flaunt his chiseled frame—rippling abs, broad shoulders, every inch sculpted for sin. Heat pounding, he presses against the car's polished trunk, grinding his rigid length over the cool metal until ecstasy erupts, hot spurts painting the surface in his wild release.