Down On Me

Ricky Price bursts into his room, breathless, eyes wild. 'Tommy Hart, you won't believe it—Matt Bradshaw's here, same damn resort.' Tommy takes one look at Ricky's flushed face, the bulge straining his shorts, and grins. He yanks out his thick prick, grabs Ricky's hair, and rams it down his throat. Ricky gags, then sucks hard, saliva dripping as Tommy fucks his mouth with steady, ruthless thrusts. Ricky pulls back, gasping, and sprawls on the hearth rug. He hoists his ankles high, exposing everything. Tommy dives in, fingers plunging into that tight, hungry hole, twisting and probing. Then his tongue follows, lapping deep, wet and insistent, making Ricky writhe and moan like a man possessed. They stumble to the bed, cocks in hand, stroking each other slow at first, then frantic. Ricky's patience snaps. He shoves Tommy down, straddles him, and sinks onto that rigid manmeat, taking it balls-deep. He rides like the eager dog he is, ass clenching, sweat-slick bodies slapping together in raw, primal rhythm.