Pony Up!

Preston Steel sits alone in the Pony. The projector behind him runs clips from Industrial Encounters. He watches, leans back, then lets a hot stream soak the front of his jeans. The wet denim clings. He peels the tank off, wrings the yellow piss back into his open mouth, swallows, and gets hard. His nipples tighten; he tugs them hard, then slides his fist down his shaft. Steel strokes in short, tight jerks, hips rolling against the stool. The head flares, slick with pre. Tension coils. His breathing turns ragged. He grunts once and shoots thick ropes over his fingers. One by one he licks them clean, sucking each knuckle until the taste is gone.