Brent leans back, already hard, as Sal drops to his knees, taking him deep with sloppy, desperate sucks. Before Sal can focus, Scott shoves Brent flat, then lines up behind Sal, pressing in slow at first. Sal moans around Brent’s cock, his throat fluttering as Scott’s pace turns rough, slamming into him with wet, obscene sounds. Brent’s fingers grip Sal’s shoulders, his hips bucking up to meet each thrust, his orgasm building fast. Scott’s breath comes in ragged gasps, his hands bruising on Sal’s hips as he fucks him harder, the room filling with skin slapping skin and muffled cries. When Brent comes, Sal swallows every drop, then collapses between them, grinning, still rock-hard. Scott follows, painting Sal’s back with his release.
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