The Coach's Boys

Zak Spears prowls the locker room, craving that raw rush of action. Coach's assistant Tom Sawyer catches his eye—lean, eager, a perfect match for the heat building inside him. With a sly grin and an irresistible pull, Zak draws Tom in close. Encouragement turns to command. Tom drops to his knees, eyes locked on Zak's hardening length. Sweat slicks their skin as hands roam freely. Zak's fingers tangle in Tom's hair, guiding him deeper. Tom's mouth works with hungry precision, taking every inch, lips stretching around the thick shaft. Zak groans, hips thrusting steady, the rhythm building like a pulse in the dim steam. Desires ignite. Tom rises, pants shoved down, his own cock rigid and begging. Zak pins him against the lockers, slick fingers prepping that tight entrance. He slides in slow at first, then fierce—pounding deep, bodies slapping in echoing urgency. Tom's moans fuel the fire, his release spilling hot across his abs. Zak follows, pulling out to coat Tom's chest in thick, sticky ropes. They stand there, drenched and spent, breaths ragged. But the spark lingers. These two studs? Already plotting the next play.