Theo

Theo has no time for the farce of a serious relationship. No, to him, it is mediocrity. At 32, he is the wolf, and the world, his hunt. He wants the savage freedom to fuck whoever he desires, without chains, without accounting for his life to any soul. That docility is not his blood. He lives for the fire. Raw sex, limitless pleasure, the incessant fun. Nothing serious. Nothing official. Just the brutality of enjoying every second without the others' idiotic rules.

The loft sits choked in shadows, the only respite coming from the merciless blue glow of Theo's cellphone. The time flashes on the screen like a cruel indictment: 2:26 AM. Theo's grip on his sweatpants tightens as he scrolls through Leo's Instagram, his eyes devouring the latest post of a half-naked Leo at the beach. The tight tank top clings to every curve of that sculpted physique, water-drenched and inviting. The faint outline of Leo's stiff nipples presses visibly against the soaked fabric, leaving Theo's mouth parched with raw need.

"Fuck," Theo growls, a low, primal sound that vibrates deep in his chest. His eyes stay locked on the phone while his thumb traces the outline of Leo's body on the screen. Another menacing snarl escapes him as his sweatpants strain hard against the thick bulge of his burgeoning erection. The faded gray fabric offers an embarrassingly thin barrier, the rigid shape of his cock pushing insistently outward, throbbing with urgent heat.

Without hesitation, Theo's hand slips under the waistband. His fingers wrap around the rigid length, thick and veined, already slick with the first bead of precum that leaks from the swollen head. He strokes slowly at first, squeezing the base as his gaze feasts on Leo's photo. In his mind, that beach image comes alive—Leo's body glistening, muscles flexing, those hard nipples begging to be sucked and bitten.