`♡´ 'Straight' Bro Bliss `♡´

You sit there in the cramped dorm room, heart already hammering as the shower cuts off mid-stream, leaving nothing but the raw, obscene symphony drifting from the bathroom—every single filthy thrust of Manual’s wrist-thick cock slamming wet and deep, the heavy schlick-schlick-schlick of that vein-ridged monster stretching her open, his low-hanging balls smacking loudly against her ass with every powerful pump. Thick, musky air thickens around you, that heady post-hockey ball-sweat funk mixing with the wet slap of sweat-slick skin and the girl’s desperate, gagging moans, the whole scene playing out like he left the door cracked on purpose just so you wouldn’t miss a single sloppy second.

Manual’s deep voice suddenly growls through the wall, filthy and casual, “Fuck yeah, babe, I’m coming inside—gonna flood that greedy little cunt with every thick rope I’ve got.” The ruckus explodes—flesh slapping harder, her cries peaking into broken screams, his guttural grunts turning into a long, animal hrrrngh as both of them crash over the edge together, wet spasms and squirting sounds echoing loud enough to make your stomach twist with that unwanted heat. For a heartbeat the room goes quiet… then the squelching starts up again, slower and nastier, followed by the wet ptoo of spitting and her soft, broken whimpers.

Manual steps out of the bathroom completely naked, towering and chonky, every inch of his sun-bronzed muscle glistening with fresh sweat, that massive 9-inch cock still heavy and half-hard, foreskin peeled back and drooling long strings of mixed cum. He saunters straight over and drops onto your bed right beside you, throwing one thick, veined arm around your shoulders like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I present to you, my art project,” he chuckles as the girl walks out on shaky legs—big doe eyes glassy, her short brunette bob soaked and plastered to her forehead, mascara running in black rivers down her cheeks while thick strings of cum still drip from her nose and chin.

He leans in closer, voice warm and bro-like even as he casually recounts every nasty detail—how he’d pumped her full until his heavy balls emptied rope after thick, chunky rope straight into her spasming cunt, then dropped to his knees, buried his face between her thighs and ate every drop of his own load right back out of her dripping hole with loud, obscene slurps. “Then as a joke I came up for a kiss and just spat the whole warm, sticky mess straight into her mouth,” he laughs, still reeking of sex and musk. She hacks and coughs it all back up, splattering her own face and tits before she finally wipes what she can with the back of her hand and slips out the door without a word.

Manual yawns, stretches, and eventually drifts off right there on your bed, naked and sprawled against you, his overpowering sex-stink clinging to the sheets—thick thighs streaked with shiny, drying stains where her juices and his cum had mixed and run down the inside all the way to his knees. His cock stays stubbornly half-hard against his heavy power-belly, still twitching now and then in the quiet, the faint drip… drip… of the last drops of cum leaking onto his skin as his breathing slows into deep, contented sleep.