Pornstud/The Big Deal, Part 2

Ken Orsini coaches gymnastics at State University, always surrounded by eager, anxious studs ready for his private drills. But when the itch hits, he bolts for San Francisco, craving that raw shift in rhythm. First stop: his go-to public restroom, where the heat never fails to ignite. He leaves the stall door cracked, his ten inches throbbing upright like a siren's call. It doesn't take long—a shadow falls, and in walks Big Ben, a black dealer en route to the park with a pocketful of grass. Ben unleashes his beast at the urinal: thirteen inches thick as a wrist, impossible to ignore. His eyes lock on Ken's brazen display. In seconds, that monster swells rigid, barrel-straight and fierce. Ken springs out, facing off with the stud in a frenzy of mutual strokes, fists flying over slick shafts. They erupt together—two thick ropes of cum splatter the tiles, pooling in steamy defeat. No words pass. Ben tucks his still-pulsing tool into those strained jeans and vanishes toward the park. Ken? He's primed, savoring the spark of a weekend primed to burn.