Kam Stone grips Ryder Owens’ hips hard while his uniformed hand slides between his thighs, fingers probing deep as the other man’s cock throbs against the couch. Ryder moans into his mouth, tongue tangling with Kam’s as his tattooed arms brace the chair, legs spread wide for the slow, deliberate fuck that turns his breath into ragged gasps. The uniform stays on, just the belt undone, while Kam’s fingers circle Ryder’s rim, then press inside, his own cock slick with spit as he works him open. When Ryder finally takes him deep, the couch creaks under their weight, the only sound the wet slap of skin and the rough, unbroken rhythm of two men who don’t hide what they want.
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