World Series of Fisting

The scoreboard stays locked and nobody knows who’s about to snatch it. For the sudden-death round the judges want to see who can take a foot. Hugh and Joey slick their feet while Sam and Axel drop to their knees. Sam lines up with Joey, Axel with Hugh, grease flying, holes spreading, toes pushing in. Axel rides hard, then shows off—his pink rosebud blooms before he slams back down. Sam answers with foot-punches, wrist and forearm slamming, judges watching every inch. The stretch turns brutal, grunts loud, hips rolling, feet sinking deeper, every man fighting for those last centimeters. Axel and Sam switch rhythm, one bouncing, the other grinding, both taking it past the ankle until the judges call it. Hands wrap around cocks and the room fills with the wet slap of coming; thick ropes hit the boards. Cum still dripping, the trophy is handed over and the new champion raises the gold.