I stepped off the plane in San Juan, Puerto Rico, my cock already hardening at the thought of a week-long vacation from the mundane routine back home. I craved something raw, something real – and something with a side of spicy Latin flavor.
As I strolled through the crowded streets of Old Town, I spotted him: a porn star lookalike with an ass that could stop traffic. His name was Carlos, and his curves were so pronounced they seemed to defy gravity. I couldn’t help but stare as he strutted past me, his tight, low-riding jeans showcasing every inch of that magnificent rear end.
I approached him, my dick throbbing in anticipation, and introduced myself with a flirtatious smile. The chemistry was palpable, and before I knew it, we were exchanging numbers and making plans to meet up later that night.
When Carlos arrived at my hotel room, he brought the heat with him. His eyes locked onto mine as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a chiseled chest and abs that could give any gay porn star a run for their money. My mouth watered in anticipation of the blowjob I knew was coming – and boy, did it deliver.
His lips wrapped around my cock like a warm, wet glove, and I felt myself being sucked into an abyss of pleasure. The way he moved his head, the suction, the feel of his tongue dancing along the length of my dick… it was pure porn come to life.
As we fucked through the night, the city outside our hotel room window might as well have been a distant memory. All that mattered was the raw, unbridled passion between us – and the cock that drove me wild. Puerto Rico had delivered on its promise of a steamy vacation, and I was left feeling spent, sated, and already craving more of Carlos’s assing, assing goodness.
