Powerfist

Steve Winston is tearing through the apartment hunting for his 12-inch black rubber cock. He finds it buried in boyfriend Jarred Wright’s ass. No time wasted—he grabs the thick shaft and starts ramming it hard, driving it wrist-deep then yanking it out so Wright’s hole gasps around nothing. Winston climbs on, buries his own meat next to the toy, and pounds Wright from behind until the bed frame bangs the wall. Lube slicks his fingers. He pushes four inside next to his cock, then tucks his thumb and sinks the whole hand while his dick still fucks. Wright growls, shoves back, taking both at once. He mounts Winston’s forearm, squats, drops, and rides it like he’s been waiting all week. Winston flips him into a handstand, plants his fist deep while Wright holds himself up on shaking arms. The door opens—Mack Kurtis from the power company, still in uniform. He doesn’t ask. He straps on a monster dong, lines up behind Winston, and starts slamming it in, jaw set, eyes locked on the stretch. Kurtis pulls out his phone mid-thrust, calls his crew—Frank Sylvano and Chris Ward—and tells them to get over here now. The three of them plan to wreck every hole in the room.