Longboard

Zackary Ryan barrels down the dimly lit street, his broad shoulders tense, fists clenched like he's spoiling for a fight. Ashton Star spots him first, that sharp gaze cutting through the shadows. He steps forward, voice low and steady, hands raised in peace. 'Easy, Zack. Whatever's got you twisted up, let's talk it out.' But Zackary's eyes burn with fury, his chest heaving. Ashton doesn't back down. He closes the gap, palms pressing firm against Zackary's chest, feeling the wild thrum of his heart. Words fail; Ashton's fingers trail lower, deft and insistent, unbuckling the belt that strains against Zackary's hips. The confused stud freezes, breath catching as Ashton drops to his knees on the cool pavement. He frees Zackary's huge cock, thick and pulsing, veins standing out like rivers on a map. Ashton's lips part, warm and eager, wrapping around the swollen head. He sucks deep, tongue swirling with expert hunger, drawing out a guttural moan from Zackary's throat. Inch by inch, Ashton takes him in, cheeks hollowing, saliva glistening as he works the shaft with relentless rhythm. Zackary's hands tangle in Ashton's hair, confusion melting into raw need, his body surrendering to the slick, velvet pull of that mouth.