The Trustees

Brian Bonds sits naked on the concrete. Dim light crawls over his broad, dusted chest, the thin trail down to the cock tight in his right fist. His left hand hides between spread thighs, fingers sliding deeper, hunting that hot button inside. A nightstick lies beside him. A pan of lube gleams on the floor. He lifts the stick, wets it with his tongue, dips it, then drives it straight into his hole. He clamps the handle between his feet and starts pounding himself, leaving both hands free—one jerking hard, the other roaming his chest and balls. Eyes shut, Brian is back with Leo Forte. Leo’s shirt is off. The lash cuts clean stripes across Brian’s back, thighs, ass—red and purple ridges rising fast. Leo moves like something wild and hungry. He swaps the flogger for a bullwhip and the next strokes criss-cross those welts with sharp scarlet lines. Brian keeps the memory alive while he fucks himself on the nightstick, back arching, body rolling in hard waves. His hand strokes faster. Cum spits out in thick ropes, hot relief coating his fingers and belly.