Tall Tail

Scott Lyons locks eyes with Brad Hunter across the dimly lit room, a spark igniting between them like a match to dry tinder. Brad moves first, closing the distance with purposeful strides, his hand firm on Scott's waist as their lips crash together. Tongues tangle, breaths mingle—hot, urgent. Scott's fingers claw at Brad's shirt, ripping it open to expose taut muscle. They stumble to the bed, clothes shedding like unnecessary skin. Brad drops to his knees, gaze hungry as he frees Scott's throbbing cock. He takes it in, lips sealing tight, tongue swirling with expert precision. Scott groans, hips bucking, fingers twisting in Brad's hair. The suction pulls deep, relentless, building that sweet ache until Scott's on the edge, teetering. But Brad pulls back, smirking, denying the release. They switch. Scott's mouth descends on Brad, swallowing him whole, cheeks hollowing with each fervent suck. Brad's head falls back, a low growl escaping as pleasure coils tight in his core. Saliva slicks the way, hands guiding, urging deeper. No more teasing. Brad flips Scott onto the mattress, spreading those legs wide. He slicks himself up, then thrusts in—slow at first, savoring the tight heat enveloping him. Scott arches, nails digging into Brad's back, urging him faster. The rhythm builds: hard snaps of hips, skin slapping skin, moans echoing raw and unfiltered. Brad pounds deep, hitting that spot that makes Scott shatter, spilling hot between them. Brad follows, burying himself to the hilt, pulsing inside as ecstasy rips through him. They collapse, slick with sweat and satisfaction, bodies entwined. But even as breaths steady, that lingering hunger promises round two—intense, insatiable, leaving you drenched in desire for more.