The dorm room was practically vibrating with tension. The moment Flynn Fenix’s eyes met Grant Ducati’s, that hungry, playful look, the jig was up. They both knew what was coming. “Time to get my hands, and my mouth, on every inch of him,” Flynn would later admit, remembering that electric moment.
When Flynn’s fingers found that impressive bulge forming in Grant’s pants, he knew it would be a hell of a ride. “The way Grant looks at you,” Flynn once described, “that mix of hunger and playfulness completely melts any hesitation.” The shivers that shot through Flynn when Grant’s hand found his cock through his jeans? Pure electricity.
The heat exploded from there. “The most intense, mind-blowing deep throat action followed,” Flynn recounted, his eyes glazing over at the memory. “This was it—the moment I’d been dreaming about.” That need to feel Grant inside him grew into something impossible to ignore.
“You should have seen it,” Flynn said with a ragged breath. “When I finally pushed my cock into Grant’s tight ass, it was… it was pure fucking ecstasy.” He wasn’t just describing sex, Flynn insisted. “It was a full-on breeding session of raw, unbridled lust that you honestly have to see to believe.”
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