Red Alert

Michel Lucas steps into the sleek office for his interview, heart pounding with ambition. Brennan Foster and Nick Ford greet him with sharp smiles, laying out the job's demands in crisp detail. But their demonstration of 'office skills' veers sharp—oral dictation, they call it, though it's anything but words on a page. Brennan drops to his knees, lips wrapping around Nick's thick cock, sucking with a hunger that pulls a low groan from deep in Nick's throat. Michel freezes against the wall, surprise flooding him, chased by a rush of heat that stiffens his own dick. He can't look away. His hand slips down, fingers curling around his shaft, stroking slow as the scene unfolds. Brennan's mouth works Nick relentlessly, saliva glistening on skin, while Nick's hands tangle in Brennan's hair, guiding the rhythm. They lose themselves then, bodies slick with sweat, pressing close. Nick bends Brennan over the desk, thrusts into his tight ass with a slick pop, pounding hard and deep. Moans fill the room, raw and urgent, cocks slapping against flesh. Michel pumps faster, breath ragged, but as they near the edge—Brennan pulling off to take Nick's load in his mouth, then Nick returning the favor, ropes of hot cum spilling like cream for their morning brew—Michel slips out the door. This wild tangle? Not the career he signed up for.