Fever

Tristan Paris slips into the steamy shower, eyes locked on Jeff Palmer's naked form. Water cascades over their bodies as Tristan drops to his knees, lips parting to worship Jeff's stiff cock. He takes it deep, tongue swirling with hungry reverence. Jeff groans, threads his fingers through Tristan's wet hair, guiding the rhythm. Soon, Jeff spins him around, spreads those firm cheeks, and dives in—rimming Tristan with slow, teasing laps that build to fervent thrusts of his tongue. They towel off and stumble to the bedroom, bodies slick and urgent. What follows is a marathon of indulgence: mouths devouring cocks in tandem, tongues tracing every curve of muscle and hole. Jeff's fingers probe Tristan's ass, stretching him open with deliberate care, then join his tongue in a symphony of rimming. Tristan arches, begging for more. They switch, Tristan mirroring the attention, his mouth and hands claiming Jeff in kind. Finally, Jeff mounts him, cock plunging deep into Tristan's yielding heat. He works that ass hard—pounding with raw power, hips snapping in a relentless drive that leaves Tristan gasping. Sweat beads on their skin like forbidden dew. Jeff pulls out at the peak, unleashes a river of cum that soaks Tristan's chest and face in sticky heat. Tristan, lost in the blaze, strokes himself to release—his own load erupting in thick, pulsing jets.