Joey Mills Worships Parker Savage’s Foot & Member

Parker Savage’s gym bag reeks of stale sweat when Joey Mills rifles through it, fingers closing around a damp sock. He presses it to his face, moaning as musk floods his nostrils — until Parker’s shadow looms overhead. “The fuck you doing?” Joey freezes, sock still clamped over his nose. “I-I can explain—” Parker snatches the sock, shoving it into Joey’s mouth. “Keep it.” He unbuckles his belt, jeans pooling at his ankles.

“Clean my soles first.” Joey laps at Parker’s sweaty feet, tongue tracing each callus. Parker yanks him upright, spit-lubing his cock before shoving two toes into Joey’s hole. “That’s fucking weird…Do it again.” Joey rides Parker’s foot, whimpering as Parker jerks himself off. Cum splatters Joey’s chest; Parker smears it with his heel. “Wear the sock home.”