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You stay in place watching as other patrons move in. One comes
Hampus sprawls across the leather chaise, one muscled arm draped carelessly over the back, his powerful thighs spread wide to accommodate his still-throbbing erection. The patrons circle him like supplicants before an altar, hands trembling as they trace the granite ridges of his abs, eyes glazed with reverence as they compete for the privilege of touching living marble.
A dark-patron approaches Dave from behind, his manicured hands claiming the muscled globes of Dave’s ass with possessive hunger, kneading the firm flesh like expensive dough.
Hampus tilts his chiseled chin toward Dave, who dangles from the ceiling chains like a prized carcass in a butcher’s window. Sweat runs in rivulets down Dave’s trembling thighs, his skin flushed crimson where the metal bites into his wrists. “Look at our champion now,” Hampus drawls, his voice a low rumble that carries across the room. “Still think you’re better than me?” A cruel smile plays across his lips as he takes another leisurely sip of his rum.
What do you do?
Keep Watching
grab Hamous Dick
Grab Dave’s Dick
