Jor presses against Hasan, his fingers tracing the driver’s thigh as the car idles. “Take me home,” Jor murmurs, voice low. Hasan hesitates, his wedding ring glinting, but the heat in his gaze betrays him. They arrive at his apartment, tension thick. Jor strips first, offering himself—bareback, eager, relentless. “Quick,” Hasan warns, his cock already hard.
He lubes his shaft, spreading Jor on the couch, their bodies aligning in a rush. Hasan’s hips snap forward, burying himself deep, Jor’s moan muffled by his own fist. The rhythm is frantic—Hasan’s hands gripping Jor’s waist, their sweat-slicked skin slapping. Jor clenches, dragging Hasan to the edge. Cum floods Jor’s ass, hot and urgent. They separate, breathless, clothes hastily pulled on. Hasan’s door clicks shut behind Jor, the secret lingering like smoke.
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