Road Queen #09

Kellan’s thick dick’s already stretching Liam flat across the sheets. He’s known Liam since ’09—same day the brat dropped in a ripped T-shirt and fuck-me jeans—so he remembers every inch. He pistons in hard, hips snapping, the smack of skin loud in the small room. Sweat rolls down the valley of his own back. Liam claws at the sheets and moans louder each thrust like he can’t get enough. Kellan grins, feeds him another inch, watches that tight hole swallow him down to the root. The rhythm tightens, turns ferocious. Every stroke hits home, shakes the old bedframe, and Kellan can’t shut up. He tells Liam how good he looks on his cock, how wet and open he is, and—yeah—he’s cocky enough to say it twice. The sheets are soaked. Liam’s cock leaks between their bellies. One, two, three punches of motion and Liam’s gone—clenching, spurting, gasping. Kellan stays buried, rides it out, then lets the tension in his balls rip loose. He comes heavy, pumping deep, grip bruising Liam’s hip until the tremors quit and both of them drop, fucked-out and cocky-grinning in the hot room.