The Guys Next Door, Part 2

Marcus Mojo slices through the morning water with powerful strokes, his body cutting the surface like a blade. Landon Conrad lounges on the pool's edge, skin baking under the sun, every muscle etched in golden light. Marcus surfaces, eyes locking on Landon, and murmurs a compliment laced with heat—enough to ignite the air between them. The two flawless studs collide in a frenzy of kisses, lips bruising, hands roaming with urgent greed. Marcus tugs Landon's rigid cock free from his briefs, the thick shaft springing out, demanding attention. He drops to his knees in the shallow end and takes it deep, sucking with champion precision—lips sealed tight, tongue swirling around the swollen head. Who could resist this prime cut of manhood, pulsing hot against your throat? Landon craves his turn. He flips the script, guiding Marcus to perch on the pool's lip, that sweet, firm ass presented like a gift. Landon dives in, rimming with expert hunger, his tongue lashing and probing the tight ring. He scoops pool water into his mouth between fervent laps, spitting it slick over Marcus's hole, prepping it with cool, deliberate streams until it's gleaming and ready. Marcus bends forward, bracing against the tile. Landon thrusts in, nailing that sweet spot from the first stroke. He pounds harder, relentless, each slam drawing moans from Marcus's throat. They switch—Marcus on his back now, abs flexing like carved marble as Landon drives deep, hips snapping with raw power. Marcus strokes himself to the edge, erupting in thick ropes of cum while Landon buries himself to the hilt. Landon pulls out just in time, spilling his load across Marcus's spent body, both men breathless in the afterglow.