Joey Mills Bottoms For Mark Lax

Joey Mills’ eyes flutter open, his body vibrating with a desperate hunger that’s got his morning glory straining against his tighty-whities. He ain’t about to wake his boyfriend next to him; no, he’s got his sights set on the real man of the house. He slips out of bed, his hard-on leading the way downstairs to where silver fox Mark LAX is chilling, his chest bare and looking fine as hell on those buttery leather cushions.

Mark’s engrossed in whatever’s on his tablet, oblivious to Joey’s approach. But the moment Joey whips open his Juicy Couture sweats and unveils his own prize, Mark’s attention is all his. Joey’s mouth is on Mark’s cock before the older man can even look up, swallowing him down with a hunger that’s all kinds of filthy. Joey’s got skills, his lips and tongue working Mark’s shaft until it’s thick and aching, while upstairs, the sound of innocent footsteps barely registers.

When the coast is clear, Joey doesn’t waste a second. He climbs aboard Mark’s lap, sinking down onto that fat, veiny daddy dick raw and ready. Mark’s tablet hits the floor as he grabs onto Joey’s hips, thrusting up into that tight, willing hole with an urgency that leaves them both breathless. Joey’s cries are muffled by the cushions as Mark drills into him, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the room.

But Mark’s not done yet. He flips Joey around, bending him over the armrest, the bite of his belt buckle against Joey’s thighs only adding to the wild, animalistic fuck they’re both craving. Mark’s grunts fill the air with every deep, punishing thrust, until he’s painting Joey’s pretty face with his load, watching it drip down his chin and onto his heaving chest.

Spent and covered in cum, Joey’s still begging for more, his fingers clawing at Mark’s jeans, pleading through spunk-matted lashes, “Fuck me dirtier, daddy. I need it again.” And Mark, always ready to give his boy what he needs, lines up for round two, ready to drive them both to the edge of ecstasy once more.