As I sprawled on the worn mattress, my cock throbbed in anticipation of his arrival. The air was heavy with the scent of sex and sweat, remnants from a night spent devouring porn and jerking off to the perfect specimen of masculinity – a chiseled, unyielding dick that dominated every scene.
The door creaked open, and he sauntered in, his eyes locked onto my eager penis. His gaze was a promise of pleasure, a guarantee of a blowjob that would leave me breathless. I felt my cock twitch at the thought of those warm lips encircling it, his tongue dancing across its length as he suckled every inch.
He stripped off his clothes with languid ease, revealing a body honed from years of working out and worshiping at the altar of gay porn. My eyes feasted on the sight of his chiseled chest, his six-pack abs rippling with each movement. His cock sprang free, a proud, unapologetic dick that seemed to shout its presence in the room.
I couldn’t help but reach out and wrap my hand around it, feeling the warmth and weight of his penis in my palm. It was a dick designed for pleasure, one that begged to be sucked, to be licked, to be fucked with reckless abandon. I squeezed gently, and he let out a low groan, his eyes rolling back in his head as if savoring the sensation.
In that moment, nothing else mattered – no past, no future, just the raw, primal act of cock and flesh entwining. We were two men lost in the throes of passion, driven by the insatiable hunger for dick and the unrelenting need to be fucked. The world outside our bedroom faded away as we surrendered to the overwhelming desire to devour each other, to consume every last drop of pleasure that our bodies could offer. And in that moment of pure, unadulterated lust, nothing was more important than the cocks that connected us.
