As I lay on the hospital bed, my **gay** lover’s strong hands grasped my **cock**, his fingers tracing the length of my **penis** as he gave me a lustful look. Our intense passion had led us to this unexpected place – a sterile hospital room, yet it felt like our own private **porn** set.
I couldn’t help but think about how we got here, the heat of the Brazilian summer still radiating from my skin as I relived the memory of his **dick** pulsing in my mouth. His moans had echoed through the streets of Rio, mingling with the sound of samba music and the cries of seagulls.
His eyes bore into mine now, burning with a desire that seemed to match the intensity of the Brazilian sun. I felt his **cock** grow harder against my leg as he straddled me, our bodies pressed together in a fierce embrace.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “I want you to suck it,” he whispered, his voice low and husky with need. I obliged, wrapping my **gay** lips around his **penis**, my tongue dancing along the length of his **cock** as I gave him a slow, sensual **blowjob**.
The hospital room was no longer a sterile space; it was our playground, filled with the primal sounds of our passion. I felt his body shudder as he came, his **penis** pulsing in my mouth as we shared this moment of raw, unbridled pleasure.
In that instant, nothing else mattered – not even the beeping of the hospital machines or the distant hum of the city outside. It was just us, lost in the intense, all-consuming world of our **gay** desire, a world where every touch, every kiss, and every **fuck** was a testament to our love.
