Greased

Dak Ramsey, the burly tow-truck driver, expected a quick callout. Instead, he stumbled into Lars Svenson's dimly lit lair, where the leather master commanded his devoted slave, Robert Thorn. Lars's eyes gleamed with intent as he sized up the intruder. No escape. Not yet. Robert knelt obediently, collar tight around his neck, body marked by the whip's kiss. Dak's protests melted under Lars's firm grip, clothes stripped away in a haze of leather and musk. Kneeling now, Dak's mouth stretched wide around Lars's thick cock, tongue working the shaft with reluctant hunger. Robert watched, then joined, their lips meeting over the master's length in a slick, shared worship. Lars growled approval, thrusting deeper, filling throats until saliva dripped like forbidden nectar. But limits begged to break. Lars bent Dak over the bench, Robert's hands spreading him open. A massive dildo—oiled and unyielding—pushed in first, inch by merciless inch, stretching Dak's hole until he gasped, body arching in surrender. Then Lars replaced it, fucking hard and deep, pounding rhythm while Robert's cock claimed Dak's mouth again. Sweat-slicked skin slapped together. Dak's cries turned to moans, his own release spilling as they rode him raw, boundaries shattered in the heat of the night.