Dirty Stories

In the dim basement, shadows dancing across bare concrete walls, Mike Chavez pins Cort Stevens against the cold wall with a hungry kiss. Their mouths clash, tongues tangling in a fierce rhythm. Adam Wilde circles them, his hands roaming, fingers tracing the hard lines of Mike's back before sliding down to squeeze Cort's firm ass. Mike breaks the kiss, breath ragged, and yanks Cort's shirt off, exposing a chest dusted with dark hair. Adam drops to his knees, unzipping Mike's jeans with deliberate slowness, freeing his thick cock that springs out, already throbbing. He takes it in his mouth, sucking deep, while Mike groans and reaches for Cort's belt, unbuckling it in one swift pull. Cort's pants hit the floor, his erection straining against his boxers. Mike shoves them down, gripping Cort's shaft, stroking it with rough, urgent pumps. Adam rises, shedding his own clothes in a blur, his lean body gleaming with a sheen of sweat. He positions himself behind Mike, lubing his fingers from a bottle on the nearby table, then presses one inside, stretching him open. Mike bucks, a low growl escaping his lips as he bends Cort over an old workbench, spreading his legs wide. Adam thrusts into Mike from behind, the three of them locking into a chain of raw need. Mike drives into Cort, hard and relentless, each slap of skin echoing like a primal drum. Sweat slicks their bodies; moans fill the air, building to a crescendo. Cort comes first, spilling over the wood with a shuddering cry. Mike follows, pulsing deep inside him. Adam pulls out, finishing with hot spurts across Mike's back, collapsing them all in a tangled, breathless heap.