Private Dancer

Rick Pantera and William Grail sway into each other's arms, bodies slick with sweat under the dim lights. Their hips collide in a rhythm that builds, urgent and unyielding. Fingers trace heated skin, breaths mingle hot and ragged. They tumble to the sheets, legs entwining like vines in a fevered tangle. The horizontal samba unfolds—thrusts deep and deliberate, moans escaping in syncopated gasps. They chase release together, collapsing at last, spent and sated in the afterglow.