“Little tourist slut.”Pol cried out as the waiter grabbed his hair and fucked him harder, until he couldn’t hold back—his cum splashing messily across the white towels. He alternated between them, licking, sucking, moaning as he tasted salt and pre-cum. Gay sex Clothes disappeared. The other was broader, shirtless, with tight abs and a bold, hungry stare. The thrusts got harder, deeper, until the one inside him cried out and filled him up, panting and kissing his lips.Pol came last, untouched, moaning loud as his own cum painted his stomach, mixing with theirs.They collapsed together in a pile of sweat and skin, laughing in different languages but understanding each other perfectly.Sure they found their hotel in Pol’s blog 😉Part 2Pol woke late, sprawled across tangled sheets that still smelled like sweat and cum. By midnight, he was dancing shirtless in a packed club, bathed in pink and blue lights. Pol dropped to his knees between them, hands stroking both cocks as they hardened—one long and smooth, the other thick with a slight curve.
