Coming Together

Shawn Justin and Dillon Reid tumble across the sheets, bodies slick with sweat, their playful wrestle igniting into raw hunger. Lips crash together in fierce kisses, tongues dueling as hands roam freely—gripping, stroking, pulling closer. Shawn drops to his knees, taking Dillon's cock deep into his mouth, sucking with urgent rhythm, while Dillon's fingers tangle in his hair, guiding the pace. They switch, Dillon's turn to devour, his mouth hot and insistent on Shawn's throbbing length, drawing out moans that echo like promises. Dildos join the fray—thick, unyielding toys they wield like secret weapons. Shawn bends over, ass up, as Dillon teases him open with one, sliding it in slow then thrusting hard, stretching and filling until Shawn begs for more. They flip the script; Shawn wields the other, fucking Dillon against the wall, their grunts syncing like a primal beat. But Dillon's the one with the vision, the cunning edge. He slips on the glove, lubes his fist with deliberate care, eyes locked on Shawn's flushed face. 'Time for the finale,' he murmurs, voice low and commanding. Shawn nods, spreads wide, breathes deep. Dillon presses in—fingers first, then the full fist—claiming him inch by exquisite inch. Shawn's body arches, a puppet jerked to life, dancing on the strings of that gloved intrusion. He jigs through the pleasure-pain, hips bucking wildly, every twist and thrust pulling cries from his throat until ecstasy crashes over them both, sealing the takedown in shuddering release.