Tales From The Locker Room 3

Isaac Parker, the college football star, never saw it coming. He steps into the team's locker room, that familiar musk of sweat and gear hanging thick in the air, and there’s Jordan Starr—the custodian—face buried deep in Isaac’s used jockstrap, inhaling like it’s the sweetest vice. Jordan freezes, but Isaac? He’s not pissed. Far from it. Alone in this hidden den of equipment and desire, Isaac steps closer, his own hand already working his hardening cock as he watches Jordan stroke himself with frantic need. They lock eyes, and the air crackles. Isaac drops to his knees first, taking Jordan’s thick shaft into his mouth, sucking with a hunger that pulls a groan from the older man’s throat. Jordan returns the favor, his lips wrapping around Isaac’s pulsing length, tongue swirling over the sensitive tip until Isaac’s legs tremble. Eager now, Isaac throws his legs back on the bench, offering his smooth, hairless hole. Jordan dives in, rimming him slow and deep, tongue probing that tight ring until Isaac arches, begging for more. Jeans yanked down to his ankles, Isaac lies exposed on the worn wooden bench, his athletic body taut and ready. Jordan positions himself, bare cock sliding in inch by inch, stretching that young ass with a delicious burn. He thrusts hard, giving the tight end the real workout—hips snapping forward, pounding in and out, skin slapping against skin in the empty room. Isaac moans, gripping the bench’s edge as Jordan hits that sweet spot over and over. They switch; Jordan flips him, taking him from behind, hands gripping Isaac’s hips like a lifeline. The rhythm builds, fierce and unrelenting, until Jordan pulls out at the last second, spilling hot ropes of cum across Isaac’s lower back, marking him in sticky warmth. Breath ragged, Jordan flips onto his back. Isaac leans in, licking up his own fresh load from the custodian’s rippling abs, savoring every salty drop like a secret shared between them.