Flash in the Studio

I walked into the studio right behind him, and the air between us went thick as syrup. Max stood by the white cyc wall in an unbuttoned shirt, his muscular chest glistening under the hot lights. His gaze slid over me, lingered on my crotch, and the corner of his mouth curled into a cocky smirk.

"Door's not locked," I said quietly, nodding toward the hallway where a photo assistant or a client could walk in at any second.

"Even better," Max replied, stepping closer. His palm landed on my belt, fingers working the buckle with confidence. "I want you right now, while everyone thinks we're just posing."

My heart hammered. We'd been sharing a hotel room for three days, and every night I caught his eyes on me in the bathroom mirror. This morning over coffee, he'd casually suggested we "swing by the studio to work on the portfolio." Now I got what kind of portfolio he meant.

His mouth crashed into mine, hungry, almost rough. I kissed back, digging my fingers into his short hair. Tongues twisted together, wet and hot. Max shoved me back against the prop table, and a box of lenses clattered to the floor.

"Quiet, fuck," I breathed into his mouth.

"Yeah, quiet," he grinned, undoing my fly with one hand. "Just don't scream when I'm balls-deep in you."

His hot palm wrapped around my already rock-hard cock, stroking up and down, smearing the first bead of precum. I groaned, biting his lower lip. Max dropped to his knees right on the cold concrete studio floor without a second thought. His lips closed around the head, tongue tracing the frenulum, and I nearly growled.

"Max... fuck, you're good at this," I whispered, watching his cheeks hollow while his eyes looked up with that shameless glint. He took me deeper, all the way to the back of his throat, spit dripping down my shaft. I grabbed his hair and started thrusting, fucking his mouth under the still-blazing studio lights.

He pulled off, panting, lips slick and shiny.

"Enough. Strip. I want you inside me."

We swapped places. I yanked his jeans and boxers down in one move. His thick cock sprang free, heavy, with a bulging vein. I spat into my palm, slicked him up, and reached around to spread his firm ass. My finger slid into his hot, already loose hole — he'd clearly prepped back at the room.

"You've been waiting for this, huh?" I asked, adding a second finger and twisting them inside.

"Since the first time I saw you in the shower," Max exhaled, bracing his hands on the table. "Come on, fuck me already, before someone walks in."

I bent him over, pressing his face into the cold tabletop. The head of my cock pressed against his tight rim. One thrust — I sank in halfway. Max hissed, then arched his back, taking me deeper.

"More... deeper, fuck," he growled. "I want your whole cock in my ass."

I started hammering him, hard and brutal. Skin slapping skin echoed through the studio, mixed with the wet squelch of my dick plunging into him. His sphincter clamped around me so tight I could barely hold back. I reached around, wrapped my hand around his cock slick with precum, and jerked him in rhythm with my thrusts.

"Come first," I whispered in his ear, biting his earlobe. "I want to feel you squeeze around me."

Max roared, his body shuddering. Hot cum sprayed across the floor and my hand in thick, ropey streams. His ass began to pulse, milking my cock so hard I lost it too. I buried myself to the root and unloaded, flooding his hot guts with thick cum. Wave after wave until my balls were completely drained.

We froze, gasping for air. My cock was still buried inside him, slowly throbbing. Cum started leaking down his thighs when I finally pulled out.

"The door..." I reminded him, kissing his sweat-soaked neck.

"Let them walk in," Max rasped, turning around and kissing me hard. "Now they'll see what we really are... boys."