Roughin' It

Nash Lawler twisted his ankle mid-jog, the sharp pain shooting up his leg like a betrayal from the ground itself. He leaned into Ty Colt's steady arm, grateful for the ride home and a call to patch things up. Settled on the couch, Nash exhaled, letting tension melt as Ty's hands worked his calf in slow, firm circles. Those touches deepened, tracing higher, until Ty's mouth claimed Nash's swelling cock, sucking with a hunger that blurred the line between care and craving. Nash couldn't hold back. He dropped to his knees, devouring Ty's rigid shaft, lips sliding down to the base in one greedy pull. Then he parted Ty's firm cheeks, plunging his tongue into that tight, waiting hole, tasting the salt and heat. Gratitude twisted into raw need. Nash reclined, legs splayed wide, offering his untouched ass like a secret finally confessed. Ty leaned in, lips brushing the virgin ring in soft kisses, teasing with flicks of his tongue. He pressed forward, inch by careful inch, his cock breaching the resistance until Nash gasped around the fullness. Gentle thrusts built rhythm—slow glides that coaxed moans from them both. Nash's whimpers turned desperate, begging for more despite the sting. Ty obliged, slamming deeper, harder, their bodies locking in a frenzy of slick friction. Ecstasy overtook them, a shared delirium as Ty split Nash open for the first time. Side by side at last, they gripped their cocks, stroking in sync until ropes of cum arced across their skin, sealing the wild debt between them.