Le plus trapu, maintenant à genoux devant lui, jouait avec une habileté presque cruelle. Ses doigts, épais et rugueux, firent d’abord glisser le prépuce du grand avec une lenteur calculée, comme pour en étudier chaque repli, chaque mouvement. Il le tira délicatement vers l’arrière, découvrant le gland luisant et gonflé, avant de le laisser glisser à nouveau, comme s’il testait son élasticité, comme s’il voulait s’imprégner de chaque détail de cette peau fine et sensible. Ses yeux, presque hypnotisés, semblaient inspecter ce sexe dressé, comme pour en mémoriser la forme, la couleur, la texture, avant de s’en emparer avec une avidité redoublée. Puis, sa langue sortit, traçant des cercles autour du gland découvert, comme pour en goûter chaque parcelle, chaque frisson. Ses lèvres, enfin, se refermèrent goulûment sur le membre du grand, l’engloutissant avec une voracité qui semblait vouloir tout absorber, tout posséder.Ses doigts, toujours actifs, ne se contentaient pas d’enserrer la base du membre du grand : ils descendaient, explorant ses bourses, les roulant doucement entre ses paumes, les pressant avec une fermeté qui arrachait des gémissements étouffés à son partenaire. Parfois, il les soulevait légèrement, comme pour en peser le poids, avant de les relâcher, laissant la peau se rétracter avec un frisson visible. Chaque geste était précis, presque méthodique, comme s’il voulait graver dans sa mémoire la moindre réaction, la moindre parcelle de plaisir qu’il pouvait extraire de ce corps tendu devant lui.Le grand, les yeux mi-clos, la bouche entrouverte, laissait échapper des soupirs brisés, ses hanches se soulevant par à-coups, comme s’il cherchait à prolonger chaque instant. Le plus trapu, sans jamais cesser ses caresses, semblait boire chaque réaction, chaque frisson, comme s’il en tirait une jouissance presque sacrée. Leurs corps, tendus l’un vers l’autre, semblaient ne faire plus qu’un, unis par cette urgence partagée, ce besoin désespéré de contact, de chaleur, de vie.Puis, soudain, le rythme s’accéléra. Les doigts du plus trapu se refermèrent plus fermement autour de la base du membre du grand, tandis que sa bouche se faisait plus insistante, plus profonde, comme s’il voulait tout prendre, tout avaler. Les hanches du grand se soulevèrent plus violemment, des coups de reins lents mais profonds et réguliers, ses doigts s’enfonçant presque douloureusement dans la chevelure du plus trapu, comme s’il cherchait à s’ancrer dans ce corps qui le menait vers l’abîme. Un râle rauque, presque animal, montait de sa gorge, tandis que ses muscles se tendaient, prêts à exploser.And then came ecstasy. A shiver ran through his entire body, his thighs stiffened, and a long moan escaped his parted lips. But the stockier man, far from calming down, seemed to tip into an almost savage frenzy. His fingers, now gripping the taller man's testicles, began to massage them with brutal energy, almost crushing them, as if he wanted to extract every last drop of pleasure, every last trace of submission. His face, pressed against the taller man's groin, was distorted by an almost bestial excitement: his half-closed eyes shone with a feverish gleam, his cheeks were hollowed by the exertion, and his breath, hoarse and ragged, seemed like that of a possessed man. His lips, still tightly closed around the ultrasensitive glans, didn't loosen their grip, his tongue flicking relentlessly, as if he wanted to push his partner beyond his limits. Every movement of his mouth, every pressure of his fingers on the tall man's balls, every stifled moan that escaped their embrace, pierced me like an electric shock. And it was at that precise moment, as I watched them, fascinated and panting, that my own pleasure exploded within me, flooding my briefs and then my overalls with a moist, almost burning heat. A shiver ran through me from head to toe, my fingers still clenching on my penis, as if to prolong each wave of pleasure that coursed through me. Yet, I didn't look away. On the contrary, I continued to slowly massage myself, savoring the last tremors of my orgasm while remaining riveted to this captivating spectacle. Their entwined bodies, their ragged breaths, their eager gestures—all of it seemed to fuel my own desire, as if I could never get enough of this forbidden scene, this sensual dance unfolding before me. My fingers, now sticky, slid with an almost hypnotic slowness over my still-hard penis, as if to extract the last vestiges of pleasure, while remaining captivated by every detail of their embrace. It was as if I wanted to etch every moment, every shiver, every moan into my memory, as if this stolen moment were destined to haunt me forever.The taller man, overwhelmed by this unleashed lust, let out a heart-rending moan, a mixture of pain and ecstasy. Then, with a sudden movement, he pulled the stockier man against him, kissing him with an almost cannibalistic voracity, as if he wanted to devour his lips, to drink his saliva mingled with his own seed. His hands, freed, slid down to the stockier man's lower abdomen, where his member, still hard and throbbing, stood erect. The taller man firmly grasped the base of the shaft, his fingers closing almost brutally, as if to mark his possession. His thumb, moist with saliva, began to trace slow circles on the swollen glans, while his other fingers, agile, moved up and down the shaft with calculated pressure. The stockier man, panting, let out a low groan, his hips rising instinctively to meet each movement. But without warning, the taller man slid down to his knees before him, his mouth opening to engulf the shorter man's member. His lips, tight and warm, slid with tortur ...

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