Amone Bane Breeds Jace Starr

Amone Bane and Jace Starr ditch the small talk in the steam-cloaked locker room, their towels slung low as muscles glisten under flickering fluorescents. Amone leans against the lockers, arms crossed, as Jace drops to his knees, lips sealing around Amone’s cock without preamble. “Fuck yeah,” Amone growls, fingers tangling in Jace’s hair, thrusting into his throat.

Roles cemented, Jace turns, ass raised over a bench, Amone’s tongue carving a wet path up his cleft. No lube, no patience—Amone spits on his cock and rams into Jace’s hole, the slap of skin drowning out the hum of distant showers. Jace’s knuckles whiten on the bench, his own dick swinging untouched, leaking with every brutal thrust.

Amone flips him, Jace’s legs hooking around his waist as he drives deeper, sweat dripping onto Jace’s heaving chest. “Cum,” Amone snarls, and Jace obeys, ropes streaking his abs. Amone follows, pulsing raw inside him, their breaths syncing in the humid air.