Custodian of the Hole

Brian Bonds is rolling fresh paint on the walls when Luka Sage storms in. The new director snaps at the painter—his office still reeks of wet paint, not progress. Brian hears the tone, sets the roller down, smirks, and decides the kid needs a lesson. He grabs Luka by the belt, shoves him face-first over the half-finished desk, yanks the jockstrap aside, and buries his tongue in the exec’s clenched hole. Luka tries to bark orders, but every wet lap knocks the fight out of him. Brian stands, drops his own pants, feeds Luka the fat cock he’s been swinging all morning. Luka swallows it down to the root, spit dripping onto his tie, throat flexing while Brian fists his hair. Brian spins him, bends him, pushes the swollen head straight up Luka’s spit-slick crack. The young stud groans as the painter’s thick shaft splits him open, but Brian can feel the hole begging for more. He pulls out, snaps on a glove, and works his fist inside. Knuckles pop past the ring, wrist follows, forearm vanishes inch by inch. Luka’s moans get deeper, needier, until Brian has him on his back across the desk, fist pumping, the other hand stroking Luka’s dripping cock. The exec bucks, clenches, then sprays a heavy load across the slick latex, hole still pulsing around Brian’s wrist.