Custodian of the Hole

Brian's tongue tastes copper and soap on Luka's fingers. Finished with the kid, he rolls over, cracks his own ass, and waits. Luka peels off his jock, drops to his knees, and tongue-fucks the older man until spit runs down the back of his nuts. Brian's knees hit the desk. Luka works his fist past the tight ring, the leather tip of his boot thudding against a drawer each time Brian rams back. The fist disappears to the wrist. Luka pulls it out, lines his mouth over Brian's hard cock, and lets the painter ride. Brian's legs tremble; he folds onto his back, boots in the air. Luka sinks the fist again, steady, deep, never slipping. Brian grabs his dick, strokes once, twice, then paints thick white ropes across his own stomach hair. The office light flickers. The question hangs heavy between them: will the boy keep the custodian or cut him loose?