Serviced

Gregor Yelson's fingers trace the curve of Cameron Fox's thigh, teasing upward until they grip his hardening cock. Cameron mirrors the move, his hand wrapping around Gregor's shaft, stroking with firm, deliberate pulls that draw a low groan from deep in Gregor's chest. They sink to their knees, mouths hungry. Cameron's lips part to take Gregor in, tongue swirling around the tip before sliding down, sucking with a rhythm that matches the pulse in his own veins. Gregor counters, his mouth enveloping Cameron's length, fingers slipping back to probe and circle the tight ring of muscle, pushing inside with a slick twist that makes Cameron buck. Cameron's breath hitches as he rises, positioning himself above Gregor's face. He squats low, thighs flexing, offering his ass like a forbidden fruit. Gregor's tongue darts out, lapping at the sensitive skin, then delving into the heat, probing deep with wet, insistent strokes that send shivers racing up Cameron's spine. The sensation builds, a slick fire, until Cameron can't wait any longer. He pulls Gregor up, turns him around. Gregor braces on all fours, ass arched invitingly. Cameron kneels behind, slicking his cock before thrusting in—hard, fast, relentless. Each slam of hips against flesh echoes their shared urgency, Gregor's moans muffled against the sheets as Cameron pounds deeper, chasing that raw edge. Sweat slicks their skin; the room fills with the slap of bodies and ragged breaths. They shift, collapsing side by side. Hands find their own cocks now, jerking in sync—fierce, urgent tugs that build to a crest. Cameron spills first, hot ropes across his stomach, and Gregor follows seconds later, his release pulsing in thick spurts, their bodies trembling in the afterglow of spent desire.