Ringside

The relentless pummeling of the bag leaves Steven Ward and Olin Green drenched in sweat, their muscles aching from the burn. They collapse together, bodies slick and fever-hot against each other, seeking solace in the raw press of skin. Steven moves first, dropping to his knees. He takes Olin's cock deep into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the throbbing length, swallowing every inch until it hits the back of his throat. He nuzzles lower, sucking one heavy ball then the other, his lips greedy and insistent. Olin groans, fingers tangling in Steven's damp hair. Now Olin takes charge, flipping the script. He devours Steven's shaft with equal hunger, lips sliding down to the root, tongue teasing the sensitive underside until Steven arches, lost in a whirlwind of bliss. But Steven craves deeper fire. He positions Olin, spreads those firm cheeks, and thrusts his swollen cock into that tight asshole. He pounds away, a piston of pure need, driving them both to the edge. Climax crashes over them—thick ropes of milky cum erupting from each, painting their exhaustion in sticky triumph.