Koen’s tied-up body quakes, his broad back glistening with sweat, firm glutes trembling from the belt’s lashes, red welts glowing like war scars. Once, an older frat brother, a stunning baseball player with a chiseled jaw and a physique to rival Koen’s own, hinted with a veiled suggestion at reversing roles, murmuring after a late-night game, “You’ve got the best swing, Koen—ever thought about letting me take a turn at bat?” Koen, his pride unyielding, rejected the offer with a cocky grin and a firm shake of his head, his throne of masculinity too sacred to surrender. Gay sex The sensation is intense yet manageable, the straight angle pressing evenly against his rectal walls, the deep spot tingling with a warm, curious heat that teases his prostate without overwhelming it. His cock’s tip pulses on the edge, leaking uncontrollably, the shaft aching, ready to explode with pent-up need. You ever feel that rush after a game, like you could take on the world?”“Damn right,” Casper says, his voice dropping a notch, eyes glinting with a knowing look. You ever get that? Yet, the boyish curiosity surges, a wild spark in his tear-soaked eyes, marveling at the raw, uncharted pleasure-pain, the prostate’s electric pulse a forbidden thrill—“What the hell is this doing to me?”
