Hole Busters 2

Ian Jay sprawls in the sling, jockstrap stretched tight around his hips, ink on full display. He grips the Man Rammer—two solid feet of rubber—and works the blunt head against his hole. Inch by inch the shaft sinks in until his rim grips it like a fist. He pushes again, sweat rolling down his ribs, but the monster sticks at the halfway mark. Cole Streets steps out of the shadows, tattooed arms flexing. He grabs the base, twists, and drives. The sling chains rattle. Cole’s forearm disappears, then most of his bicep, until only the flared handle stands proud between Ian’s cheeks. Ian grunts, muscles shaking, hole stretched wide and shiny around the thick shaft. Cole holds steady, giving him every last inch the pig can take.