As I sprawled on the worn mattress, sweat glistened on my hairy body like dew on a tropical leaf. The Venezuelan heat clung to me like a lover’s caress, intensifying the primal urge coursing through my veins. My cock, thick and unyielding as a palm tree trunk, stirred with anticipation, eager for the passionate encounter that awaited.
In walked Carlos, his chiseled features a testament to his dedication to the gym. His eyes, dark as the night sky of my homeland, locked onto mine, and I felt the air thicken with tension. He was no stranger to the art of porn, his body honed to perfection by years of posing for cameras that devoured every contour of his physique.
With a mischievous glint in his eye, Carlos dropped to his knees, his fingers tracing the curves of my chest before settling on the swollen head of my cock. His tongue darted out, licking the pre-cum from its tip with a slow, deliberate stroke that left me trembling. I felt myself being drawn into a vortex of raw desire, the world narrowing to this moment, this man, and his skilled lips wrapped around my dick.
As he sucked me deep, his fingers massaging the base of my cock, I was transported to a realm of unbridled lust. The sounds of our passion – the wet slapping of flesh, the ragged gasps for air – blended into a symphony of gay ecstasy that seemed to reverberate through every cell of my body.
With each thrust of his head, I felt myself being drawn closer to the edge, the pleasure building like a Category 5 storm, ready to unleash its fury upon me. And then, in one swift motion, Carlos’s lips released their hold on my cock, and I exploded into a frenzy of cum, my orgasm as intense as the Venezuelan sun beating down on the streets of Caracas.
