Back-End Business

Sherman Maus has pushed Lord Vigor too far. The site supervisor stapled Sherman’s tie to the desk, yanked down the older man’s pants, and drove his thick cock straight into that jockstrap-framed hole. No warm-up. Just slick lube and hard meat stretching Sherman open. Lord Vigor switches fast—fist, cock, fist again—punching past the raw ring until the foreman’s guts take every thrust. Sherman’s boots scrape the floor while his wrecked hole spits out thick loads, the red rosebud blooming and getting shoved back inside. Lord Vigor keeps going, owning the man who rode him all week.