Basic Plumbing 3

Roman Heart hangs up the phone, frustration simmering in his veins like a slow-burning fuse. His first call delivered nothing but empty promises—no hands, no heat, just words. He dials again, voice sharp and unyielding. 'I want satisfaction this time,' he demands. 'Send Chase Hunter. Now.' Minutes stretch into anticipation. The door clicks open, and there stands Chase, all raw power and knowing smirk, the Falcon topman built for conquest. Roman's pulse quickens. Chase strides in, eyes locking on the prize: Roman's firm ass, waiting like forbidden fruit. No time wasted. Chase's strong hands grip Roman's hips, pulling him close. Lips crash in a hungry kiss, tongues battling for dominance. Roman moans, arching back as Chase's fingers trace his crack, teasing the tight ring of muscle. Lube slicks the way—Chase's thick cock presses against Roman's entrance, insistent, unapologetic. He thrusts in deep, filling Roman completely, stretching him with that legendary girth. Roman gasps, pushing back, meeting every powerful stroke. Sweat beads on their skin; the room fills with the slap of flesh, raw grunts, and Roman's breathless pleas for more. Chase owns him—pounding relentlessly, hitting that sweet spot until Roman shatters, spilling hot across the sheets. Chase follows, flooding him with pulse after pulse, marking his territory. In this clash of Falcon titans, desire wins, pipes cleared, ass thoroughly serviced.