Bottoms Up

Curly-haired Peter Bishop walks into a dim sex club and stops cold. Kirk Rogers stands by the door in a jock strap and aviators, thick cock already pushing the fabric. Rogers grabs him, leads him straight to a black sling. Beau Saxon steps out of the shadows, cock heavy, leather pants open. No talk. Saxon lines up first, slams in deep while Rogers feeds his dick down Peter’s throat. The sling creaks. Sweat hits the floor. Toys hit the table next—thick plugs, fat dildos—then the fists. Saxon’s forearm disappears past the wrist, knuckles working slow, then hard. Peter moans around Rogers’ shaft, hole stretched wide. Rogers pulls out, slaps Peter’s face with his cock, then takes his turn wrist-deep while Saxon strokes. The three of them move like they’ve done this before. Saxon grunts, pulls free, strokes once, twice, shoots a thick load across Peter’s chest and up to his open mouth. The cum drips down leather and skin. Peter stays in the sling, wrecked and grinning.