“Fuck, yes—” he gasped.Thick jets erupted into the lace. The key scraped in the old lock, and Evan shoved the heavy door open with practiced ease. Gay sex His sanctuary.Evan pulled off his sweat-soaked ball cap, raking calloused fingers through damp hair. Worth every second.The haze slowly cleared. His hand drifted down, rough, work-hardened fingers squeezing the fragile fabric. A rough man in filthy lace.Eyes locked on his reflection, he stroked himself slowly. Evan peeled the ruined lace down, strands of cum stretching between mesh and skin. The rough fabric scraped tender skin as pain and pleasure blurred deliciously.Hold on. He held it to his face, inhaling deeply. The lace stretched, obscene, around his pulsing shaft. This is my secret, and it’s mine alone.Kicking off his boots, Evan stretched, catching his full reflection. Rugged frame trembling, crimson pouch darkened with arousal.A guttural groan tore loose as his knees buckled. The midnight blue briefs slid up his legs slowly, silky and decadent against the coarse hair and thick muscle of his thighs, teasing his tender, spent skin with every soft, deliberate tug. Years of leading crews under blistering sun and biting cold had carved hard muscle and quiet authority into his frame.
