Hot Cargo

Todd Mitchell's patience snaps. His boyfriend's endless wandering stings like a fresh slap, so he dials up a callboy for some sharp-edged payback. Sweet revenge knocks on his door as Grant Larson, all lean muscle and knowing grin, who whisks Todd's woes away in a heartbeat. They drop to their knees, mouths hungry, taking turns sucking each other's cocks deep and thorough, tongues swirling with urgent rhythm. They spin around, faces buried in asses, rimming each other with lavish, wet strokes that tease and torment. Grant's fingers probe next—one slick digit slipping into Todd's tight butthole, then a second, stretching him wide, building the fire until it's blazing. No holding back now; they have to fuck the living hell out of each other. Grant grabs the two-headed dildo, rams one end into Todd's ass with a firm thrust that makes him gasp, then lowers himself onto the other, both impaled, rocking together in a slick, shared frenzy. Hands fly to their shafts, jacking hard and fast until sweat slicks their skin and ropes of cum splatter across chests and bellies, leaving them spent and sticky.