Bad boy Hakunabad is draped across a dimly lit stairwell. Smoke puffs from the corners of his luscious lips. His eyes are half closed; he barely hears, and hardly cares, about tattooed stud Romance’s anti-cigarette protests. That is, until Romance reminds him of where he is—it’s his gym, after all—and who he is.
“If you want to smoke on something,” he snatches the back of Hakunabad’s head and shoves it into the depths of his crotch, “then smoke on this.”
Romance is the owner, and not just of the gym.
Nylon shorts are ripped away. Romance wears Hakunabad’s mouth out with his long, curved dick. He rims and eats out the bad boy’s big booty— slaps, spanks, and claims it. In just mere moments, Hakunabad is taken from defiance to moaning, whimpering ecstasy.
He’s bent over the railing. Romance fucks him silly—standing, sitting, riding, and lying down, Hakunabad gets his bouncing cheeks pounded for a passionate eternity. By the time Romance is finished with his ass, his new bitch is breathless and upside down on the stairs, legs spread, pleading for cum. A few seconds of stroking and Romance he explodes like a volcano that was just waiting for its trigger—and shoots his cum all over the panting Hakunabad.
He picks up his used-up bitch and sends him to the showers. It’s Romance’s gym, after all, and Romance’s rules. You’ll go where he tells you to go, and you’ll cum when he’s through with you. As for Hakunabad… Romance is only just getting started with him.
