Dylan Tides Plows Canyon Cole

Canyon and Dylan crash into each other with zero subtlety—shirts ripped off fast, hands roaming greedy over toned abs and smooth skin. Dylan’s already rock-hard cock springs free from his jeans, and Canyon doesn’t waste time, dropping to his knees to swallow every inch with a hunger that makes Dylan groan, “Hell yeah, just like that.” But Dylan’s not playing one-sided—he yanks Canyon’s underwear down, eyes locked on that hairless hole before burying his face between those cheeks. Canyon moans around Dylan’s dick, hips grinding backward to ride Dylan’s tongue harder, their bodies tangled in a sweaty 69 that’s equal parts filthy and efficient.

Things get primal when Dylan flips him onto his back, lining up his thick cock against Canyon’s eager entrance. “Take it slow, baby,” Dylan rasps, but Canyon’s having none of it—he sinks down inch by inch, back arching, breath ragged as he bottoms out. “Fuck, you feel insane,” Canyon grits out, one hand jerking his own dick while the other grips Dylan’s shoulder for balance. Dylan’s thrusts turn punishing, hips slamming up to meet him, the bedframe rattling as Canyon’s moans pitch higher. “Wanna breed you so bad,” Dylan growls, and Canyon’s “Do it—” comes out half-scream. Dylan empties himself deep, Canyon following seconds later—cum streaking his stomach as he collapses onto Dylan’s chest, both laughing breathlessly. Post-nut clarity hits, but neither moves, too wired on the high of raw, unfiltered heat.