Red Handed

Rick Van Sant and Trent Bloom hit the club hard. Rick’s fist is already buried in Trent’s ass, red-knuckled and wrist-deep. He punches again. Harder. Trent’s rosebud blooms pink, then red, the swollen ring pushing out like it wants more. Rick’s own hole winks at the sight, hungry, jealous. He drops onto his back, boots up, orders Trent to return the favor. Trent sinks both hands straight in. He works the second past the first, twisting, stretching, elbow flexing as he massages deep muscle. Rick’s guts shift, walls sucking tight around the forearm sliding in to the bone. Trent’s not done. He slaps a fat dildo to the concrete, squats, and drops onto it until his own wrecked ring swallows the head. One hand stays inside Rick, punching without pause while Trent rides, hole stretched wide around rubber, then collapses back down, taking it to the base. The dildo glistens; Rick’s hole spasms around Trent’s fist. Sweat, breath, and the wet sound of two ruined asses fill the dark room. 2013. Both fists. Both holes. No mercy.