What Goes Around

Dayton O'Connor stirs from une petite mort, that languid haze after a fierce tumble in the sheets. He blinks awake beside the colossal Erik Rhodes, all muscle and sprawl. Quietly, Dayton slips from the bed, scoops up his scattered clothes, and pads out of Erik's place. He descends a flight of stairs to the apartment he shares with his boyfriend. There, Topher DiMaggio stirs a pot on the stove, the air thick with savory promise. Dayton presses a kiss to Topher's neck, warm and teasing, then darts off for a shower. But Topher's already coiled tight, pent-up from a day alone, his hunger sharp as a blade. He wants Dayton now. Dayton yields, dropping to his knees and taking Topher's rigid cock into his mouth, swallowing it down to the root in one smooth glide. Topher's fingers tangle in Dayton's hair, guiding his length in and out with deliberate strokes. The rhythm quickens. Topher thrusts harder, claiming Dayton's eager mouth like uncharted territory. He shoves Dayton back onto the bed, then descends, devouring Dayton's cock with sloppy, fervent laps. He works it fast, frenzied, drawing moans that twist the air with ecstasy. Topher flips Dayton over, baring that willing ass. He drives in deep, doggy-style, pounding the tight heat while Dayton arches back, greedy for every inch. Topher rolls onto his back. Dayton mounts him swift as a storm, riding that cock like a wild stallion breaking free. He craves the stretch, the burn—more, always more—and Topher delivers, gripping those hips to slam upward, relentless. They shift again. Topher drills in deep, chasing the core, and Dayton erupts, ropes of cum painting his chest in hot bursts. Topher withdraws and unloads, drenching his lover in thick, sweet release. They tumble together onto the bed, spent and sated.