Stroke

In the hush of an empty bar, Lindon Hawk, Matt Majors, and Jason Tyler surrender to the night. They start with mouths eager and hands roaming—trading blowjobs that pull deep groans from the shadows, rimjobs that tease and torment with wet, circling tongues. The air thickens with their heat. Soon, they claim the pool table, its green felt a makeshift altar. Hawk bends low, taking Tyler's huge cock in his ass, the stretch a delicious burn, while his lips wrap around Majors' thick tool, sucking with hungry rhythm. Majors shifts, thrusting into Hawk's hot hole, his own mouth devouring Tyler's beautiful cock, slurping with fervent need. The bottom boy Hawk yields to them both, plowed relentlessly—Tyler's girth first, then Majors' unyielding drive—until ecstasy crashes. Tyler pulls out and unloads on Hawk's face, ropes of cum painting his skin like forbidden art. Majors squirts his across Hawk's ass, a warm flood, then kneels to lick it clean, savoring every drop with a wicked grin.