Peeking through the half-open door, you see it—the older man’s unshaven chest glistening under the light as someone else takes control. A sneaky hand grips his shoulder, forcing him down to lick and suck at that coarse hairline like he’s being punished for something. His tongue flicks out slow, deliberate—each pass dragging over skin already flushed from submission. The other person isn’t even touching their own body yet; they’re just watching him work it, fingers spread wide on his back like they own him. When he finally gets close enough to taste salt and sweat mixed with pre-cum seeping from beneath those wiry hairs? That’s when the real game starts.
