Foul Play

Tibor Wolfe is no joke. He plays hard, pushes limits. Keeps a giant egg-shaped glass plug shoved deep in his hairy hole during every drill, right up until the showers. Cory Jay walks in and catches the glint as Tibor bends to dry off. Cory works the toy in and out, then slides on the black latex gloves. He fists with purpose, driving past rings of muscle, deeper each thrust. Tattoos flex on sweaty skin. Cory’s rhythm builds, hard and fast, until he’s punching the stud open with both hands. Tibor grunts and eggs him on, voice raw. Cory keeps going, sweat flying, pushing until Tibor’s body gives out.