Workin' Hard

Zackary Pierce slips into the restroom and freezes at the sight in the far stall: Scott Fremont, pants around his ankles, hand pumping his hard cock with urgent strokes. Heat flares in Zack's gut. He ducks into the next stall, zipper down in a flash, his own fist wrapping around his thickening shaft. But why chase release alone when temptation hums through the thin wall? He aligns with the glory hole, thrusts his rigid dick through, and Scott's warm mouth engulfs him—lips sliding, tongue swirling, a greedy pull that makes Zack's knees buckle. The rhythm escalates. Scott spins him around, buries his face between Zack's cheeks, tongue probing deep with slick, teasing laps that draw low moans. Fingers follow, slick with spit, plunging in and curling against that sweet spot, stretching him open. A sharp spank lands, then another, skin blooming red under Scott's palm. Finally, Zack grabs control—bends Scott over, wrenches his cock up that tight ass in one fierce shove, pounding deep as their grunts echo off the tiles.