The neon lights of "The Blue Oasis" pierced through the velvet curtains, casting a kaleidoscope of shadows across the dimly-lit room. Detective Mark Stone’s heart thumped against his chest like a bass in a nightclub, echoing the anticipation that electrified the air. His mission: infiltrate the seedy underbelly of the city's most notorious gay strip club to gather intel on a drug ring operating in plain sight.
Mark was a man who could make any straight or gay head turn. At six foot two, he was a tower of sinewy muscle and raw masculinity. His eyes, a piercing shade of blue, were framed by thick, dark lashes that seemed almost too long for a man of his stature. His jawline could cut glass, and his full lips had the ability to make anyone within a 10-foot radius quiver with a mere smile. His hair was a rich, chocolate brown, styled in a short, messy buzz cut that highlighted the sharp angles of his face. His neck was thick and strong, leading down to broad shoulders that tapered to a trim waist, which was the envy of every gym-goer. The tight tank top he wore clung to his torso like a second skin, revealing the contours of his well-defined abs, which looked as though they'd been chiseled by the hands of a master sculptor. His biceps bulged as he flexed, and his forearms were a network of veins and muscle, hinting at the power hidden beneath the surface.
But it was his ass that was the pièce de résistance. It was a monument to the gods of the gym, a masterpiece of nature that defied gravity and logic. Mark's bubble butt was so round and plump it seemed to have a life of its own, jiggling and bouncing with each step he took. It was the kind of ass that could make a saint question their vows, a vision of such perfection that it was impossible to ignore. The tight jeans he wore for his audition hugged the curves of his posterior like a lover's embrace, leaving nothing to the imagination. Each cheek was a firm, round mound that begged to be squeezed and admired, a testament to the countless hours he'd spent sculpting it at the gym.
Mark walks up to the front door of the club and stops at the entrance waiting on the bouncer to check his ID. The bouncer, a behemoth of a man with arms the size of tree trunks, looked Mark up and down, his gaze lingering on the detective's posterior. "You looking for work, sweetheart?" he rumbled, his voice like gravel rolling over a microphone. Mark's eyes narrowed, his jaw set in a firm line, but he kept his cool. "Yeah," he said, his voice a low, seductive purr, "I heard you might be hiring. I'd like to speak to the manager." The bouncer grinned, showing off a set of teeth that looked like they'd been chiseled from a block of ice. "You and every other pretty boy with a hard-on for the stage," he said, his eyes raking over Mark's body. "But you might just have what it takes. I'll take you to him."
The door opened, revealing a cacophony of sounds: the pulse of bass-heavy music, the shrieks of a rowdy crowd, and the clinking of glasses. The scent of sweat and desire filled the air, thick and heady. The club's interior was a feast for the senses: strobe lights flashed in a frenetic pattern, casting the dancers in a series of fleeting snapshots of bare flesh and gyrating hips. The walls were a lurid mix of blue and purple, the stage a gleaming platform that seemed to beckon to the deepest, darkest desires of every patron.
The manager, a man who went by the name of "Velvet" emerged from the shadows, his eyes raking over Mark like a predator assessing its prey. He was a tall, slender figure with a penchant for silk and gold chains that glinted in the dim light. His slicked-back hair and pencil-thin mustache were remnants of a bygone era, but the hunger in his gaze was as timeless as it was unsettling.
"Ah, the new meat," Velvet said, a greasy smile spreading across his face as he approached. His eyes lingered on Mark's crotch before snapping back up to his face. "You must be the one who thinks they can handle the heat of 'The Blue Oasis'. I'm curious, darling, what makes you think you can handle the spotlight?"
Mark's stomach twisted as he felt the manager's gaze travel down his body, but he maintained his poise. "Let's just say I know how to work a crowd," he replied, a hint of challenge in his voice. Velvet's smile grew wider, and he gestured to a side hallway with a flourish of his hand. "Follow me, sweetheart. To my office, let’s see if you've got what it takes."
The office was a stark contrast to the glittering chaos of the club. It was small, with walls painted a flat black that made the room feel smaller than it was. A single overhead light cast a pool of light on the room, illuminating a leather chair that looked like it had seen better days, a disgusting looking ratty couch sat on the opposite wall of the desk. Velvet took a seat behind the desk, steepling his fingers and watching as Mark closed the door behind him, his eyes never leaving the detective's face.
"Alright, sugar plum, let's see if you've got the moves to shake the money trees here," Velvet said, his voice dripping with insincerity. "Take off your shirt, and let's see the goods."
Mark's palms were slick with nerves as he slowly lifted the hem of his tank top. The fabric peeled away from his torso, revealing the landscape of his abs, each muscle rippling with the effort of holding back his true identity. The cold air of the air-conditioned room made his nipples tighten into hard peaks, and he felt a thrill of arousal that had nothing to do with the job at hand. He tossed the shirt aside, letting it fall to the floor with a silent thud.
Velvet leaned back in his chair, his eyes drinking in the sight of Mark's bare chest with an unabashed hunger. His pupils dilated, and he licked his lips, the tip of his tongue briefly peeking out from between his teeth. "Very nice," he murmured, his voice a sultry purr. "But let's not stop there, shall we?"
Just as Mark began to unbuckle his belt, the door to the office burst open. In stumbled Larry, the very short, balding, creepy assistant manager. His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him, and his cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson. "I... I heard you were auditioning new talent," he stuttered, his gaze flicking from Mark's half-exposed torso to Velvet's lascivious grin.
Velvet rolled his eyes but waved Larry in with a dramatic flourish. "By all means, join us," he purred. "This one is looking to land a job here, and he's eager to show us what he can do." Mark's stomach churned at the thought of performing for not one but two of these lecherous men, but he knew that he had to play the part if he wanted to get the information he needed.
With a deep breath, Mark unbuttoned his jeans and slowly slid them down his muscular thighs, revealing the tight, black briefs that left little to the imagination. His cock stirred at the thought of the upcoming performance, and he had to remind himself that this was all part of the job. The fabric clung to the outline of his substantial package, which was already half-hard from the thrill of the undercover role and the danger of being caught.
As he stepped out of his jeans, Larry's eyes widened further, his mouth forming an 'O' of surprise. He licked his lips nervously, his eyes glued to the prize. "Wow," he murmured, taking a standing next to Velvet. "You're definitely going to bring in the crowds."
Velvet leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Indeed," he said, his voice a low rumble. "But let's see what you can do with those moves of yours, darling. Why don't you come over here and give us a little show?" He gestured to the couch, a sly smile playing on his lips. As he and Larry make their way over to the couch.
Larry's eyes never left Mark's body, his breathing shallow and rapid. Mark felt a bead of sweat trickle down his spine as he approached the couch, his heart racing in a mix of excitement and nerves. Velvet patted the cushion next to him, his hand lingering a moment longer than necessary on Mark's thigh. "Sit," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Mark perched on the edge of the couch, the leather sticking slightly to his bare skin. Larry took the spot on the opposite side, his knee brushing against Mark's. The room was a symphony of desire, the air thick with it, making it hard to breathe. Velvet leaned back, his arms folded across his chest, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Alright, sugar," he said, his voice a silky purr, "why don't you show us what you can do?"
Mark took a deep breath, standing up and willing his body to cooperate with his mind. He began to sway to the rhythm of the music that leaked in from the club, his hips moving in a slow, hypnotic circle. His hands slid up his abs, tracing the lines of muscle before moving to his chest, teasing his own nipples until they were as hard as the rest of him. The two men watched, their eyes glued to his every move, and Mark felt a thrill of power as he realized he had them in the palm of his hand.
With a seductive smirk, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and pushed them down, letting them fall to the floor. His cock bobbed free, already at half-mast, and he watched with a mix of amusement and revulsion as Velvet's and Larry's eyes widened even further.
"Now, let's see that ass in action," Velvet growled, his voice thick with desire. "Turn around and give us a little shake."
With a wink over his shoulder, Mark obeyed, spinning on his heel and presenting his backside to the two leering men. His cheeks clenched and released in time with the music, the muscles of his ass rippling like waves on the ocean. The sight was mesmerizing, and he could feel their eyes on him like hot hands caressing his skin. Larry leaned in closer, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts, as he whispered lewd comments about the detective's anatomy.
"Look at that, Velvet," Larry murmured, his eyes glazed with lust. "It's like two melons straining to break free from a too-tight sack."
Mark's cheeks burned with a mix of humiliation and excitement as he obeyed their commands. He knew he had to keep the act going if he wanted to win their trust and get the job. He bent over slightly, wiggling his ass for them, feeling the heat of their gazes like a brand on his skin. The music grew louder, the bass vibrating through the floor and up his legs, resonating in the very core of his being. His heart raced as the lewd comments grew more explicit, each word a caress that sent shivers down his spine.
"Oh, yeah," Velvet crooned, leaning forward in his chair, his hands clasped together in a silent plea for more. "You've got the moves, baby. But can you handle the real show?"
Mark felt a bead of sweat slip down his spine as he turned to face them, his cock now fully erect from the sheer power of his performance. He knew he had to keep going, to push through the awkwardness and the fear that clutched at his chest. He took a deep breath and stepped closer over to desk he was just dancing next to, planting one hand on the edge and bending over slightly. The muscles in his back and arms bulged, a stark contrast to the smooth, round curves of his ass.
"Spread 'em," Velvet barked, his voice thick with lust. "I want to see that pretty little hole of yours."
Mark's breath hitched in his throat as he reached back, his fingers trembling slightly as they grazed the warm, velvety skin of his ass. He took a moment to compose himself, his mind racing with the reality of the situation. With a surge of determination, he parted his cheeks, revealing the tight, pink pucker of his anus. The room was so quiet, the only sound the thundering of his heart in his ears.
Velvet's smile grew wolfish, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger. "Ah, now that's what I'm talking about," he murmured, his voice a sultry caress that sent shivers down Mark's spine. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Larry, come over here. We wouldn't want to miss out on inspecting our new toy, would we?"
Larry didn't need to be told twice. He practically leapedfrogged over the desk, his eyes never leaving Mark's exposed flesh. He reached out tentatively, his fingertips brushing over the detective's ass with a reverence reserved for sacred artifacts. "So soft," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So... plump."
Mark's body responded to the touch, his hole clenching and unclenching of its own accord. He gritted his teeth, pushing down the moan that threatened to escape his lips. He had to keep his cool, had to maintain the facade of the eager, willing stripper. He could feel the eyes of both men on him, their gazes like twin branding irons searing into his skin.
As Larry's touch grew bolder, Velvet leaned in closer, his breath hot and sour on Mark's neck. "Don't you want the job, sweetheart?" he whispered, his hand sliding down to cover Larry's, guiding his assistant's fingers to probe deeper. "You're so close to getting what you want."
The dual sensation of their touch was a strange cocktail of disgust and arousal, the line between the two blurring with each passing second. Mark's mind raced, trying to remember his training, trying to convince himself that this was just another part of the job. But his body had a mind of its own, the feel of their fingers against his most private skin sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. He clenched his jaw, focusing on the prize: the intel that could take down the drug ring and put these predators behind bars.
Larry's hand grew bolder, his fingers delving further between Mark's cheeks, his nails scraping against the sensitive flesh. Mark's cock throbbed in response, betraying the excitement he was desperately trying to keep hidden. Velvet's breath grew hotter, his breaths more ragged as he watched the intimate display unfold before him. "Mmm," he murmured, his eyes hooded, "you really are a natural. But, can you handle the full experience?"
With a nod from Velvet, Larry withdrew his hand and stepped back, his chest heaving with excitement. Velvet leaned in, his voice a low growl in Mark's ear. "Now, darling, I want you to be a good boy and hold that ass open for Larry, he’s going to get that hole nice and wet”.
Mark's stomach lurched at the thought of Larry's tongue anywhere his hole, knowing that he had to push through this to get the job. He reached back, gripping his cheeks firmly and pulling them apart, exposing himself even more. Larry's eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store, and he licked his lips as he stepped closer, his hand moving to his own crotch to adjust his erection.
With a grunt, Larry sank to his knees, his nose pressing against Mark's crack. Mark felt a wave of revulsion, but he kept his composure, his eyes locked on the wall as he felt the first tentative flick of Larry's tongue against his hole. The sensation was strange, unwelcome, but not entirely unpleasant. It was the kind of sensation that made his body betray him, his cock jerking in response despite his mind screaming in protest.
Larry's tongue grew more confident, his strokes becoming more deliberate as he lapped at Mark's tight opening. The detective's knees trembled, but he held firm, the sound of his own breathing harsh in his ears. The feeling was intense, the wetness of Larry's mouth sending waves of pleasure through his body. He felt the assistant manager's hands come up to grip his hips, holding him in place as his tongue delved deeper, probing and teasing.
The room spun around Mark, the walls closing in as he felt Larry's breath hot on his skin. The man's tongue was like a living flame, setting every nerve ending alight with a fierce, almost painful pleasure. Mark's body responded against his will, his hole clenching and unclenching as Larry's wet, eager mouth worked its magic. He could feel the slickness building, could almost taste the desire in the air. It was a battle of wills, his mind fighting the onslaught of sensation, his body begging for more.
Velvet's lewd comments grew louder, his voice a symphony of lust that seemed to resonate in Mark's very soul. "Look at him," he crowed, his eyes shining with a perverse delight. "He's loving every second of it. Just like a good little slut should."
Mark's face burned with a mix of anger and embarrassment, but the sensations overwhelming him were too intense to fight. He couldn't stop the moan that slipped from his lips as Larry's tongue circled his hole, probing gently at the tight ring of muscle. His legs trembled, threatening to give out beneath him, but he remained standing, his hand braced on the desk for support. The room swam around him, a kaleidoscope of desire and revulsion that only served to heighten his arousal.
Velvet watched the scene unfold with a twisted smile, his eyes glinting with malicious glee. He started stroking his own cock through his silk pants as he took in the sight of his newest acquisition being broken in. "Ah, but Mark," he purred, his voice a velvet caress in the harsh room, "you're not supposed to make that kind of noise unless you're on stage. We can't have our little strippers moaning like bitches in heat during auditions, now can we?"
The words stung like a slap, jolting Mark back to reality. He clamped his mouth shut, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as Larry's tongue continued to work its wicked magic on his hole. The assistant manager's touch had gone from tentative to insistent, his tongue now pushing inside Mark's body with a hunger that was palpable. The detective's ass muscles clenched and released, the sensation of being penetrated both terrifying and exhilarating. He felt his resolve wavering, his body on the brink of betraying his true feelings.
But Mark was no stranger to pain or fear. He had faced down gangsters and serial killers with nothing but his wits and his badge. He could handle this. With a deep breath, he pushed back against Larry's face, the moan that had been building in his chest now trapped behind clenched teeth. He had to get through this, had to keep the act up.
The music grew louder, the bass pounding in time with his racing heart. His eyes flew open, and he found himself staring into the mirror on the wall opposite the couch. His reflection was a blur of passion and desperation, the muscles in his arms and back bulging as he held himself open for Larry's ministrations. The sight of his own body, on display and being used for the pleasure of these two men, was strangely arousing. He felt like a creature of the night, a predator in a jungle of desire.
The moan that had been building in his chest grew louder, threatening to escape his clenched teeth. Larry's tongue was relentless, pushing into him with a force that was both terrifying and exhilarating. Mark's body was a live wire, his nerves firing off in a symphony of sensation that seemed to crescendo with each stroke. He could feel himself losing control, his hips bucking back against the man's face, his cock slapping against the cold, hard wood of the desk.
Velvet's eyes gleamed with victory as he watched the power dynamics shift in the room. He knew he had Mark exactly where he wanted him: vulnerable, exposed, and desperate for more. He unzipped his own pants, freeing his thick, veiny cock that stood at attention, the head glistening with precum. "You like that, don't you, baby?" he taunted, stroking himself in time with the beat of the music. "You want more, don't you?"
Mark's breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he nodded, his eyes glazed with a mix of lust and determination. Velvet's cock was a monster, a symbol of the man's dominance and the club's unbridled hedonism. Mark had never been with a man before, but he knew that if he wanted to get the job, he'd have to play along. He took a deep breath and leaned back, his ass sticking out even more as Larry's tongue continued to explore his depths.
Velvet climbed onto the desk and knelt in front of Mark. The detective felt the man's hand grab his hair and yank his head up. “You want this, don't you?" Velvet whispered, his voice a siren's call. "You want to be my little slut, taking it all for the sake of the job."
Mark's eyes met Velvet's, and he saw the challenge in them, the power play that was unfolding. He nodded again, a silent surrender to the game. Velvet's grip tightened, pulling Mark's face closer to his cock. The scent of sex and desire filled his nose, and he felt a strange thrill at the thought of tasting the manager's length.
With a grin that was all teeth, Velvet guided Mark's mouth to the swollen head of his cock. The detective's eyes never left the man's, even as he parted his lips and took the first inch between them. The taste was salty, musky, and surprisingly addictive. He swirled his tongue around the tip, feeling the shiver that ran through the manager's body. Larry's tongue grew more insistent, pushing deeper into Mark's ass, and he couldn't help but let out a muffled groan around the cock in his mouth.
The room was a cocoon of leather, sweat, and lust, the only sounds the slap of flesh on flesh and the ragged breaths of the three men. Mark's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, his body a battleground between his duty and the unexpected pleasure that was flooding him. As Larry's tongue delved deeper, he felt his body betraying him, his hole relaxing and welcoming the intrusion. The sensation was foreign, yet undeniably exhilarating, a mix of pleasure and pain that sent his arousal spiraling out of control.
Larry's mouth was a furnace, his tongue a slick, demanding force that coaxed moan after moan from Mark's tightly clenched throat. The detective's hand clutched the desk, knuckles white, as he struggled to maintain his balance, the world around him fading to a haze of sensation. He could feel Larry's hands gripping his hips, his nails digging in as the assistant manager's enthusiasm grew, his tongue probing and teasing until Mark was sure he'd lose his mind.
And then, it happened. Larry's finger, slick with spit, pushed into him without warning. The intrusion was sudden, and Mark's body tightened around the unyielding digit. A strangled gasp escaped his throat, the sensation overwhelming. Velvet's cock grew even harder in his mouth, the shaft pulsing with excitement as he watched his assistant claim the new dancer.
Larry's finger slid in and out with a slow, deliberate rhythm, stretching Mark's tight hole, preparing him for what was to come. The detective's body was a battleground of sensations, the line between pleasure and pain blurring with each thrust. His cock was rock-hard, the pre-cum leaking from the tip and pooling on the desk below, mingling with the scent of the leather chair.
Velvet's grip on his hair tightened, his hips bucking slightly as he pushed his cock deeper into the detective's mouth. Mark took it all, his throat constricting around the thick shaft, the taste of precum coating his tongue. It was a dance of domination and submission, each man vying for control in the silent, sultry rhythm of the room.
Larry's finger grew bolder, his strokes quicker and more demanding. Mark could feel his body opening up to the intrusion, the initial shock giving way to a strange, insistent need. His moans grew louder around Velvet's cock, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through the manager's body. Velvet's grip grew tighter, his eyes never leaving Mark's as he whispered filthy words of encouragement, his voice a dark symphony of lust.
The detective's legs trembled, threatening to give out beneath him. The feeling of Larry's finger inside him was unlike anything he'd ever experienced, a mix of fullness and vulnerability that had his cock throbbing against the desk. The sensation of being used, claimed, was a heady aphrodisiac that clouded his judgment, making him want to beg for more.
With a final, vicious tug on Mark's hair, Velvet abruptly pulled his cock out of the detective's mouth with a wet pop. "On the couch," he ordered, his voice thick with desire. "Kneel on the edge with that sweet ass in the air."
Mark's body was a live wire of need and adrenaline. He stumbled over to the couch, his legs wobbly with a mix of anticipation and fear. He knew he had to keep the act going, to play the part of the eager, willing stripper if he wanted to get the job. He knelt, his heart racing, his cock standing tall and proud as he leaned on the edge of the couch, ass high in the air.
Velvet's eyes gleamed as he took in the sight of Mark's exposed hole, still glistening with Larry's spit. "Good boy," he murmured, his voice a velvet caress that sent a shiver down Mark's spine.
Larry stumbled to his feet, his own cock straining against the fabric of his pants. His cheeks were flushed, his breath coming in short, eager pants as he looked to Velvet for approval.
"Yes, yes," Velvet hissed, his eyes never leaving Mark's exposed ass. "Now, darling, get those clothes off and show us what you're hiding. Let's see if you're as eager to be a part of the show as you are to watch it."
Larry's hands shook with excitement as he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, his eyes never leaving Mark's exposed hole.
His shirt fell open, revealing a chest that was more fur than flesh, a carpet of graying hair that spread from his pectorals to his navel. His belly was a soft mound that jiggled slightly as he moved, a stark contrast to the rock-hard abs of the man before him. His pants were next, the zipper reluctant to give way under the pressure of his erection. With a final, triumphant yank, they fell to his ankles, leaving him in nothing but a pair of tighty-whities that did little to contain his excitement.
The fabric was stretched taut over his cock, the head poking out from the top, red and shiny with his own desire. Larry's hands trembled as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pulled them down, the elastic snapping against his thighs. His cock sprang free, small and unassuming amidst the thicket of hair. It was a sad, little thing, the kind of penis that looked like it had given up on life long ago, but in that moment, it was as hard as a diamond and just as eager.
Velvet's eyes never left Mark's ass as Larry climbed onto the couch in front of Mark, his knees coming to rest on opposite sides of Mark’s face. The detective felt the man's breath on his skin, his cock brushing against his lips. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a cocktail of fear and excitement that had his heart racing in his chest.
With a grunt, Larry pushed forward, and Mark felt the tip of the assistant manager's cock press against his mouth. The taste of precum was faint, almost sweet, and he couldn't help but open wider, letting Larry's shaft slide in with an ease that surprised them both. The man groaned, his hips moving in a slow, rhythmic dance that mimicked the pulse of the music outside the office. Mark's eyes watered with the effort of not gagging, his throat muscles tightening around Larry.
Meanwhile, Velvet had moved behind Mark, his hand reaching around to squeeze and maul the detective's bubble butt, kneading the firm flesh like it was dough. "Look at that," he murmured, his voice a sultry purr. "You're a natural, baby." His fingers slid down, teasing Mark's crack, before they were removed.
With a brutal, almost violent urgency, Velvet slammed his cock into Mark's willing but unprepared hole. Mark's body bucked at the sudden intrusion, his mouth opening in a silent scream that was immediately filled by Larry's cock. The pain was a white-hot knife, searing through him as Velvet's thick shaft tore through his virgin ass, stretching him beyond what he thought possible.
Larry's eyes rolled back in his head, his hips jerking in a silent symphony of pleasure as he watched the show before him. His own cock grew even harder as he felt Mark's throat tighten around it, the detective's desperate need to breathe muffling his cries of pain. The room was a whirlwind of motion and sensation, the air thick with the scent of sweat, lust, and something else, something darker and more primal.
Velvet's cock was a relentless force, his strokes deep and powerful as he claimed Mark's body. The detective's muscles clenched and unclenched around him, a silent protest that only served to drive the manager deeper. Each thrust sent a fresh wave of agony through Mark, his eyes watering, his throat burning with the effort to keep Larry's cock in his mouth.
But amidst the pain, there was a spark of something else, a flicker of pleasure that grew with each movement. The friction of Larry's cock sliding in and out of his mouth, the feel of the assistant manager's hands in his hair, the smell of sweat and sex that surrounded them all—it was a heady cocktail that had his cock pulsing in time with the rhythm of their depraved dance.
Mark's own cock was a steel rod, bobbing in the air. The detective's eyes rolled back in his head, the sensations overwhelming as Larry's cock hit the back of his throat, the head of the cock rubbing against the soft palate. The saltiness of pre-cum mixed with the metallic taste of the office air as Mark fought to keep his composure, to keep his true identity hidden beneath the layers of lust that threatened to consume him.
Velvet's pace grew faster, his grip on Mark's hips tightening like a vice as he approached his peak. Larry's hips rocked back and forth in a silent crescendo, his cock sliding in and out of Mark's mouth in a frantic rhythm that matched the pounding in his chest. The detective could feel the tension building in the room, the air charged with the electricity of desire and release.
And then, with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the building, Velvet unleashed his load deep inside Mark's ass. The hot, thick semen filled him up, the sensation of being claimed and used sending a jolt of pleasure through his body that was so intense it was almost painful. At the same moment, Larry's cock pulsed in Mark's mouth, hot jets of cum spurting down his throat in a torrent that seemed never-ending.
Mark swallowed around Larry's cock, his throat muscles working overtime to contain the salty flood. The taste was overpowering, the sheer volume of cum more than he'd ever imagined. Yet, amidst the depravity of the act, there was something undeniably satisfying about it, a dark thrill that had his own cock throbbing with the need for release.
Velvet's grip on Mark's hips tightened as he pulled out, his cock glistening with a mix of lube and Mark's own ass juices. "You're hired," he panted, his voice hoarse with the effort of holding back his orgasm. "You've got the moves, baby, and the ass to back it up."
