Snap Shot

Steven Daigle slips into the dim warehouse, hunting for a spark of chaos. There stands Erik Rhodes, muscles bulging like coiled steel. They lock eyes, then hands and mouths take over, raw and urgent. Steven drops to his knees, devouring Erik's thick cock, tongue swirling over the foreskin's loose, salty folds. Erik growls, flips the script. He grips Steven's hips, swallows him deep, lips tight and teasing. But Steven craves more. He spins Erik around, parts those firm cheeks, and plunges his tongue into the tight, puckered ring—wet, insistent, opening him up. Erik moans, returns the favor. He rims Steven slow at first, then fierce, slicking the way before slamming his cock inside. Steven bucks back, gasping with every brutal thrust. He climbs aboard next, riding Erik's rigid shaft, bouncing hard, sweat-slicked and wild. They crest together—Steven on his knees, stroking himself frantic while sucking Erik's pulsing meat. He erupts first, ropes of cum splattering his chest. Erik follows, hosing him down in thick, hot spurts. Steven rises, wipes his mouth, and vanishes into the shadows. Erik's hunger lingers. He snags a traffic cone, squats low, spreads wide. His hole yields, swallowing the broad tip inch by greedy inch. Stretched to the limit, he grinds down, the burn igniting fresh fire. Cum spills again, gooey and unchecked.