Isle of Sin

The Temptation Begin

The villa was pure heaven.

Julian wandered barefoot across the polished marble floors, taking everything in with a quiet, awed smile. Wide glass doors framed a view of the beach so perfect it looked unreal, white sands stretching into forever, the deep blue of the ocean sparkling under the setting sun. The breeze carried the faint scent of salt and lush greenery, slipping through the sheer curtains.

The kitchen was small but modern, stocked with a fridge full of fruits, snacks, and bottles of crisp white wine. Everything was thoughtful, luxurious without being overwhelming. It felt like their own private world.

Meanwhile, Adrian was methodically unpacking their luggage, folding his husband brightly colored swim shorts, mesh tanks, and sheer beach shirts into neat piles, arranging sexy swimwear and airy clothes into the open wardrobe. A full week. 

Julian leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom, watching his husband with a fond smile. "You like it here?" he asked, voice soft, teasing.

Adrian turned, lifting a brow. "Of course I do," he rumbled, walking over and to pull his husband close by the hips. "It’s perfect." He said and earn him a kiss on the cheek.

"What about the guests?"

"Everyone seems nice," Adrian said, nuzzling into Julian’s hair, breathing him in. "Cassian and Nico are always a riot. Dean's... intense, but not a bad guy."

Julian chuckled. "What about Josh? I didn’t talk much with him. You did."

At the mention of Josh, Adrian’s whole face lit up, a rare, boyish excitement flickering in his steel-blue eyes. "Josh’s great. He’s playful, easy to talk to. He's got this youthful energy that’s just... refreshing. Makes you feel relaxed."

Julian laughed softly. "You two looked like you were deep in conversation."

Adrian grinned, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, he’s fun. We were talking about gym routines first, then somehow ended up swapping horror movie recommendations."

"Horror movies?" Julian arched a brow, amused.

"Yeah, It turns out that he loves The Conjuring series as much as I do. We were arguing over which one was scarier."

Julian shook his head fondly. "Leave it to you to bond over dead spirits and haunted dolls."

"It’s fun," Adrian said with a shrug. "Josh’s got that kind of vibe that’s just… easy. No weirdness. No pressure. He’s a good guy."

Julian smiled wider somehow glad that his husband is making new friends. After all, Adrian always been a bit reserve, unfriendly and has less friend than him. 

Plus, maybe if Adrian is being occupied by Josh, he could has the time to catch up with Nico and Cassian. 

Julian looped his arms around Adrian’s neck, brushing his lips across his husband's jaw. "Wanna hit the shower together before dinner?"

"Hell yes." Adrian answered and without even waiting, he scoop Julian in his arms easily like his husband weight nothing. Obviously, Julian giggles and hit his chest, but he does not care and just paddle to the massive bathroom, carrying his husband.

Inside of the bathroom that big enough to fix three people, he puts 
Julian’s hands were on him immediately, gliding over hard pecs, down the ridges of his abs. Adrian caught his wrists, pinning them against the cool stone wall, pressing his body close—his cock already thickening between them.

"You’re trouble," Adrian whispered, mouth grazing Julian’s ear.

"You love it," Julian breathed, pressing his hips forward, feeling Adrian’s growing heat.

Adrian kissed him—deep, hungry, their bodies sliding together under the steaming spray. He let Julian’s hands roam, let him trace every muscle, every scar, every place that made Adrian groan into his mouth.

Julian slid his hands lower, wrapping around Adrian's thick cock, stroking him slowly, reverently. Adrian’s head fell back with a low, broken sound, his muscles twitching under Julian’s touch.

"Fuck, baby," he growled, grabbing Julian's ass and lifting him effortlessly.

Julian locked his legs around Adrian’s waist, moaning as Adrian’s hard length slid against him, hot and slick with water and pre-cum.

They kissed like they were starving—open mouths, biting lips, the steam wrapping around them like a second skin. Adrian pressed Julian against the wall, grinding slow, delicious friction between them.

"Gonna eat you after dinner," Adrian promised, voice wrecked with need. "Long and slow. Until you forget your own name."

Julian whimpered, clinging tighter, rubbing against him shamelessly.

For now, though, they stayed tangled in the shower—washing each other with slow, teasing hands, stealing kisses, letting the island’s magic sink deep into their bones.

Paradise had only just begun.
____
Villa 5

The villa was pure seduction wrapped in tropical heat.

Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a private plunge pool that shimmered like liquid sapphire under the afternoon sun. Palm trees swayed lazily around the deck, casting playful shadows across the marble floors. Inside, everything was designed to indulge: a massive king bed draped in silky white linens, a sleek wet bar stocked with expensive whiskey, and an oversized rain shower that promised sins yet to come.

It was a villa made for lust—and it was being put to good use.

Coach Dean Carter, 39 years old and pure Southern corruption, sprawled lazily on a leather lounger near the open patio doors, golden sunlight spilling across his massive, tanned frame. His thick arms rested behind his head, his hairy barrel chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. The coarse dusting of hair trailed down the hard ridges of his abs, disappearing into the low-slung black swim shorts that were now shoved halfway down his thick, muscular thighs.

Between those powerful thighs, Josh Chen, the 24-year-old Chinese-Korean beauty, knelt—a vision of filthy devotion.

Josh was pure sex on his knees: golden-beige skin glowing under the sun, black tousled hair damp with sweat, cheeks flushed a deep pink. His dark almond eyes were half-lidded with lust as he worked Coach Dean’s cock with eager, wet slurps.

Josh’s body was a sinful masterpiece—bulky with thick gym muscle, wide shoulders tapering into a tight waist, massive thighs spread wide for balance. His heavy pecs bounced subtly every time he bobbed his head, the sweat on his smooth chest catching the light. The soft scratch of trimmed pubic hair brushed his flushed cheeks every time he swallowed deeper.

Coach Dean’s cock was a beast—9 thick, uncut inches of pure domination. Veiny, heavy, drooling steady strings of precum that Josh eagerly lapped up between slow, filthy strokes.

Dean watched him with hooded, stormy eyes, one hand lazily stroking Josh’s damp hair. "Look at you," he rumbled, voice low and approving. "Sloppy little cockslut. Bet you don't even remember what a pussy tastes like. All you need now is cock—morning, noon, and night."

Josh moaned around his cock, the vibration making Dean grunt deep in his chest. Drool leaked from the corners of Josh’s mouth, glistening on his chin as he fucked himself on Dean’s cock with desperate, practiced motions.

Dean tightened his grip on Josh’s hair, slowing his thrusts to savor every filthy moment. He wasn't ready to cum yet. No, he wanted to enjoy his ruined little toy a while longer.

As Josh gagged and whimpered around his cock, Dean's mind drifted back—

Back to when Josh had been just another clean-cut, straight-as-a-damn-pole golden boy. The quarterback of the team. School’s pride. Dating that head cheerleader—what was her name again? Serena? Irene? Fuck, he didn’t care anymore. She was nothing.

All Dean cared about was the way Josh’s tight little ass filled out his football pants, the way he’d catch glimpses of smooth, perfect skin in the locker room showers, the way that cocky grin used to flash across his stupidly handsome face—completely oblivious to how badly Dean wanted to break him.

And break him he did.

Dean had made his move one late night after practice, when the locker room was empty, the air thick with sweat and testosterone. He’d cornered Josh, whispered filth into his ear, gripped his throat just tight enough—and kissed him, hard and hungry.

Josh had fought, had shoved—at first. But then Dean had gotten his hand into Josh's pants, stroked his cock until the boy was trembling, moaning, melting. He popped Josh's cherry right there, bending him over a locker bench and shoving inside—stretching his tight virgin hole wide, claiming him, owning him.

Josh had cried. Had begged. Had cum harder than he ever had in his life.

And from that moment on, Josh was Dean's.

The perfect, broken toy.

Josh graduated high school with the rest of his class—still wearing that fake smile, still pretending to be the golden boy. But inside, he was already ruined. Addicted.

After graduation, it didn't take long. Josh spiraled beautifully—started an OnlyFans account, and soon became a full-blown sex worker. He turned himself into a dripping, desperate cumdump for anyone willing to throw a dollar his way. He craved cock like air. He needed to be stretched, stuffed, filled every damn day.

He lived to be used.

And Dean? Dean still got the best of him. Always.

Dean leaned forward slightly, smirking as he watched his former star quarterback suck cock like it was his life’s calling.

"That's it, baby," Dean growled, voice thick with lust. "Suck it like you used to suck down Gatorade after practice. Bet you’d rather have my cum than water now, huh?"

Josh whimpered, bobbing harder, the filthy sound of spit and need filling the sun-drenched villa.

Dean laughed low in his chest, the sound dark and satisfied. His cock throbbed heavy on Josh's tongue, but he wasn't ready to end it yet.

No, he was just getting started.

Josh's cock strained painfully inside his tight, damp swim shorts—9 inches of thick, uncut, dark beauty curving slightly upward, leaking steadily. Every time Dean's cock slid deeper down his throat, another bead of pre-cum oozed from Josh's flushed tip, soaking the already damp fabric clinging to his heavy balls.

Josh worshiped Dean's cock with everything he had. His lips sealed tightly around the thick shaft, feeling the heat and texture of every vein pulsing against his tongue. The foreskin slid back and forth, silky and smooth, revealing the swollen, glistening crown that bumped and nudged at the back of his throat.

The taste was filthy and addictive—a heady mix of salt, musk, and the heavy, bitter-sweetness of Dean's steady leaking pre-cum. Josh swallowed greedily every drop that spilled onto his tongue, moaning wantonly at the sheer weight of it.

His hands roamed lower, cupping Dean's hairy, sweat-slick balls. They were heavy, full, and warm in his palms. He rolled them gently, massaging the tender flesh, feeling them tighten slightly with every deep bob of his head. His fingers teased the thick thatch of dark, musky hair, nuzzling his face into it between long, worshipful licks.

Josh lost himself in it—in the taste, the scent, the heat of Dean's cock throbbing on his tongue and the thick balls slapping lightly against his chin. His own cock throbbed helplessly inside his shorts, soaking the fabric, desperate for any kind of friction, any touch—but Josh didn't dare let go of Dean.

Dean was everything now.

And Josh? Josh was nothing but a hole to be used, a toy to be filled, a mouth made to worship the cock that had broken him in the first place.

Josh pulled off Dean’s cock with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting his swollen lips to the slick, heavy shaft. His breath came in short, desperate gasps, his cheeks flushed deep pink, eyes glassy with devotion.

Without a word, he leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly from the leaking, drooling tip down the throbbing veins, tracing every ridge and pulse. He licked hungrily along the underside, savoring the musky, salty taste, until he reached the thick root nestled in Dean's sweaty, hairy crotch.

Josh buried his face there shamelessly, nose deep in the wiry pubic hair, inhaling the raw, masculine scent like it was his lifeline. The earthy, salty musk filled his lungs, made his cock throb painfully inside his soaked shorts.

Dean chuckled low and rough above him, chest vibrating with amusement. "Fuckin' filthy," he rumbled, voice dripping with pride. "You love sniffin' Daddy's cock, don't you, baby boy?"

Josh moaned, the sound muffled against Dean's skin, before he pulled back just enough to look up at him—his lips slick and parted, eyes wide and drunk on the taste.

"I fucking love it," Josh whispered, voice raw and desperate. "Smell so fucking good, Coach… wanna live here... wanna drown in your fucking balls."

Dean smirked, gripping the base of his cock and smacking it lightly against Josh’s cheek, leaving wet marks on his flushed skin. "Greedy little whore," he drawled. "What happened to my star quarterback, huh? Thought you were gonna marry that pretty little cheerleader."

Josh laughed breathlessly, grinding his nose against Dean's sweaty balls before sucking one into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue. "Fuck her," Josh growled around the weight, voice soaked in filth. "Only thing I wanna choke on now is your cock."

Dean threw his head back with a dark laugh, fist tightening in Josh's hair. "That's right, baby. Coach turned you out good. Made you forget all about pussy, didn't I?"

Josh nodded frantically, tongue flicking against Dean’s heavy sac, drool dripping down his chin. "Only need cock now. Only need you, Coach. Need to be filled, used… fucked stupid."

Dean grinned down at him, his cock twitching against his thigh, smearing precum against Josh’s cheek. His eyes narrowed slightly, remembering the way Josh had acted earlier at the bar—the way he'd clung a little too close to Adrian, his touches lingering just a second longer than necessary.

"Saw the way you were actin' around Adrian," Dean muttered, voice dark and amused. He tugged Josh's head back by the hair, making him look up at him, helpless. "Thought I wouldn't notice, huh? Clingy little slut, rubbin' all over him. Bet you were imagining his cock too."

Josh’s cheeks burned hotter, his cock throbbing painfully inside his tight shorts, but he still whimpered, desperate.
"I only want you, Coach," Josh tried to plead, voice cracking.

Dean laughed cruelly, yanking his hair harder. "Liar," he growled. "You love cock—any cock. You’ve had more dicks down your throat and in your ass than you can count. Don’t you fucking lie to me."

Josh whimpered again, shame and lust burning through him as his soaked shorts clung tighter to his aching cock.

Dean smirked slow and dark. "Bet you'd let Adrian fuck that sloppy hole without even blinking. Wouldn't you, baby? Wouldn’t even have to ask twice."

Josh’s breathing hitched, his whole body trembling.

"Beg for it," Dean ordered, voice rough, hand fisting tighter in Josh’s hair.

Josh shuddered, pressing his forehead to Dean's thigh. "Please, Coach," he moaned. "Please feed me your cock. Wanna gag on it, wanna choke, wanna cry. Wanna be your cumdump… and his too. Anyone you want, Coach… I'll take it. I'll take it all."

Dean's smirk deepened, filthy and satisfied. "Good boy. Open that mouth. Time to fuck your pretty little throat raw."

And Josh obeyed—mouth open, tongue out, eyes glazed—ready to be ruined all over again.

Dean didn’t waste time. He grabbed a brutal fistful of Josh's hair and yanked his head forward, stuffing his thick cock deep into that willing mouth. Josh gagged instantly, the sloppy, wet sounds echoing around the villa as Dean began to brutally fuck his throat, forcing him to take it, to choke, to drool.

"Take it, you nasty little cum-dump," Dean growled, slamming his hips forward harder. "You love getting your throat wrecked, don’t you? Fuckin' addicted to getting used like a piece of fuckmeat."

Dean pumped his hips in ruthless, punishing thrusts, dragging Josh’s mouth up and down his veiny shaft, spit and precum dripping in messy strings from Josh’s lips. Josh’s heavy pecs bounced with every rough shove, his whole bulky, muscular body shuddering under the assault. His swollen cock leaked helplessly inside his soaked shorts, untouched but throbbing like it was ready to explode.

Dean growled low in his chest, pulled his cock free for just a second, then stood up, towering over the kneeling, ruined boy.
Without missing a beat, he grabbed Josh by the back of the head and slammed back inside, fucking his face even harder now—rough, savage, merciless.

"This all you're good for now, boy," Dean grunted between thrusts. "Suckin' cock, drooling like a bitch in heat, beggin' for more. Bet you'd let the whole damn island fuck your face if I let 'em." His heavy balls slapped obscenely against Josh’s chin with every vicious thrust, the sound wet and filthy, mixed with Josh’s gagging and desperate whimpers. Drool poured from Josh's stretched lips, soaking his chin, his chest, the front of his ruined shorts.

Josh looked obscene—a perfect fucktoy. His golden-beige skin flushed deep red, his dark almond eyes glassy and teary, spit and precum dripping from his chin down his thick pecs. His black, tousled hair clung to his sweaty forehead, and his thighs trembled from holding himself up, cock visibly pulsing inside his shorts, a dark wet patch growing larger by the second.

Finally, Dean shoved him back hard with a rough grunt, and Josh fell onto his back, gasping for air. He lay there, panting hard, teary-eyed, drool dripping down his cheek, legs spread wide, completely ruined and utterly desperate for more.
Dean sat back down heavily on the lounger, his thick cock glistening with spit, standing proud and waiting. He stared down at Josh, who lay panting and wrecked at his feet, a filthy, beautiful mess.

"Get up, slut," Dean ordered, voice low and rough. "Come ride Daddy's cock."

Josh whimpered, but obeyed, pushing himself up on shaky arms. His muscles flexed and trembled as he climbed to his feet, the soaked fabric of his shorts clinging lewdly to his thick, leaking cock. Without hesitation, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pushed them down, revealing his full nakedness.

Josh’s body was obscene—bulky, tan, and dripping with need. His 9-inch uncut cock bounced free, dark and pretty, already leaking from the slit. His thick pecs heaved with every breath, his abs glistening with sweat, thighs wide and powerful, made for fucking.

Dean smirked darkly, stroking his thick shaft lazily as he watched Josh step forward—completely bare, completely shameless.

Josh climbed onto the lounger, straddling Dean’s thick, hairy thighs. He reached behind him, grabbed Dean’s cock, and guided it to his needy, trained hole.

With a low, broken moan, Josh sank down.

Dean watched every second—watched the tight pink ring stretch around the fat head of his cock, saw the way Josh’s face contorted into pure bliss, mouth open, eyes fluttering. No matter how many times he fucked this boy, it was always the same—that snug, sinful grip, pulling him in deeper, easier every time.

Josh’s body shook with pleasure as he impaled himself, inch by inch, until he was fully seated, balls resting against Dean’s pelvis, stuffed completely full. His own cock slapped against his stomach, leaking and twitching with desperate need.

Dean grinned, hands gripping Josh’s hips tightly. "Look at you," he growled, voice dripping with dark satisfaction. "Made to be fucked. Made to ride Daddy’s cock like the perfect little whore you are."

Josh moaned, grinding down, his hole clenching around the thick shaft inside him, desperate for more.

"Fuck, you're tight," Dean hissed, squeezing Josh’s hips harder. "Always so greedy for Daddy's cock. You live for this, don't you, slut?"

Josh nodded frantically, his voice breaking into a whine. "Need it, Coach… need your cock… can't live without it…"

Dean chuckled darkly, thrusting up sharply into him, making Josh cry out. "Damn right you can't. You’re nothing but a cock-drunk little whore now. My whore."

Josh bounced slightly, the thick shaft dragging against his sweet spot, making his whole body shiver. "Fuck… fuck… want it deeper, Daddy… stretch me open… wreck me."

Dean leaned in, biting along Josh’s jaw as he thrust up again. "You’re already wrecked, baby. Been wrecked since the first time I bent you over that locker room bench and popped your cherry."

Josh whimpered, riding harder now, chasing every brutal thrust. "Yes… yes… ruin me again, Daddy… break me…"

Dean slapped his ass hard, making the thick muscle jiggle. "That's it, slut. Show Daddy how much you love getting used. Ride me like the needy little cumdump you are."

Josh sobbed with pleasure, grinding harder, desperate for more, desperate to be split open and filled until he couldn’t think straight—until he was nothing but a filthy, cock-hungry mess for Coach Dean to ruin all over again.

Josh sobbed with pleasure, grinding harder, desperate for more, desperate to be split open and filled until he couldn’t think straight—until he was nothing but a filthy, cock-hungry mess for Coach Dean to ruin all over again.

Josh began to bounce up and down in earnest, using Dean’s thick cock like a toy made for him. His massive pecs bounced with every drop of his hips, the heavy slabs of muscle jiggling deliciously. His thick, pretty cock rubbed and slapped against Dean's hard, sweaty abs, leaving smears of precum across the tight ridges.

"That's it, baby," Dean growled, eyes locked on Josh's wrecked, glorious body. "Bounce that sweet ass on Daddy's cock. Fuck yourself stupid."

Josh gasped, throwing his head back, riding harder, faster—the sound of wet slaps and obscene moans filling the villa. His thighs flexed and shook, his whole frame slick with sweat, the filthy rhythm of their bodies crashing together over and over.

"Fucking perfect," Dean snarled, slamming his hips up to meet every drop, making Josh scream with pleasure. "Made to be filled. Made to be fucked."

Dean leaned forward, his mouth latching onto Josh’s thick, bouncing pec. He sucked hard, biting down just enough to make Josh yelp, his cock throbbing harder from the rough attention. Dean’s tongue circled the sensitive nub, lashing it until it turned red and puffy, before moving to the other side and giving it the same savage treatment.

Josh cried out, body jerking, riding harder as his nipples ached with pleasure and pain. His pecs glistened with spit, flushed and raw, the tips standing out swollen and desperate.

"Fucking love your tits," Dean growled against Josh’s chest, teeth scraping over the abused skin. "Could suck on these all day while you bounce that greedy hole on my cock."

Josh whimpered brokenly, grinding harder, every nerve in his body wired, every thrust making him more desperate to be ruined completely.

Dean pulled back, grinning darkly. Without warning, he grabbed Josh tight and stood up with him still fully impaled on his cock. Josh yelped and instinctively wrapped his arms and legs around Dean, clinging to him as Dean’s thick shaft stayed buried deep inside.

"Fuck, Coach," Josh whimpered, burying his face in Dean’s sweaty neck.

"Yeah, you like that, slut?" Dean snarled, his breath hot against Josh’s ear. "Can't even go a second without Daddy’s cock stuffed in you."

Dean carried him easily across the room, those thick arms flexing under Josh’s weight. He stopped at the bed, turned, and dropped Josh roughly onto the mattress, leaving him sprawled at the edge, ass perched right where Dean wanted him.

Dean stayed standing, towering over him. Without missing a beat, he grabbed Josh by the hips and slammed back inside, making Josh cry out hoarsely.

"That's it, baby," Dean growled, slamming in deep. "Take it. Take Daddy's cock like the filthy little cumdump you are."

Josh sobbed, his pecs bouncing with every brutal thrust, his cock smearing pre-cum across his abs. "Fuck… fuck… yes, Coach… use me… wreck me…"

Dean leaned down, biting Josh’s sensitive, puffy nipples again, earning another loud, broken moan.

"Gonna fuck you until you can't walk," Dean snarled, hammering into him with ruthless, punishing thrusts. "Gonna stretch this hole until you’re leaking for days, you greedy little bitch."

Josh could only whimper and sob in response, body rocking hard under every savage thrust, desperate and ruined and hungry for more.

Josh sobbed brokenly, whimpering between moans. "Please, Coach… break me… make me yours forever…"

Dean laughed roughly, thrusting harder, sweat dripping from his body. "You already are, boy. Just a tight little hole for Daddy to ruin whenever he wants."

Dean's thrusts grew faster, harder, brutal. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, filthy and wet and obscene.

"Take it, you fucking cock-hungry slut," Dean snarled, slamming into him harder. "Take every goddamn inch."

Josh was sobbing now, nails digging into the bed sheets, pecs bouncing wildly, his leaking cock rubbing messily against his abs with every rough shove.

Dean growled low and grabbed Josh by the throat, pinning him in place as he pounded even deeper.

"Gonna fill you up, boy. Gonna flood that greedy hole," Dean hissed.

Josh wailed, body trembling, and with a broken cry, he exploded—thick ropes of cum spurting across his abs and chest, covering himself in a sticky, desperate mess.

Dean cursed, feeling Josh's hole clamp down around him, squeezing him like a vice. He snarled deep in his chest, slammed in one final brutal time, and emptied himself inside—flooding Josh's used, broken hole with thick, hot cum.

Josh shuddered, gasping, clinging to Dean’s arms as he was filled, body shaking and ruined, exactly where he belonged.
Dean leaned over him, panting, voice rough and low. "That's it, baby. Stuffed full of Daddy's cum. Just the way you fucking need to be."

Josh whimpered weakly, voice hoarse. "Always need it, Coach… need you…"

Dean slowly pulled out, thick cum spilling from Josh’s stretched hole.

Josh moaned, feeling empty but so full, so satisfied, his body trembling.

Dean smirked darkly and walked back to the lounger, grabbing his discarded shorts. He slipped them back on, muscles flexing, then casually moved to his luggage.

He rummaged through and pulled out a small bottle of oil, tossing it onto the bed beside Josh.

"Get dressed, slut. We’re gonna be late for dinner. And put that on. Daddy’s gift."

Josh picked up the bottle with shaky fingers. He knew exactly what it was. That oil—smeared over his sweaty skin—would make any man crazy. The scent would mix with his natural heat and drive them wild, make them addicted.

Dean leaned down, gripping Josh's chin, forcing him to look up.

"I want you to stick close to Adrian the entire dinner," Dean ordered, voice low and commanding. "Make him fucking crazy for you."
____

The dining room of the main villa was dimly lit, golden light spilling across the heavy wooden table set for ten. Wine glasses gleamed. Tropical fruits and decadent dishes crowded the center. Laughter and conversation buzzed lightly through the thick island air, clinging sweetly like the scent of salt and sex.

Adrian, 42, wore a loose tank top and beach shorts, his broad chest and muscular arms on full display, the fabric clinging lightly to his sweaty skin. Julian, 37, sat on Adrian’s side, wearing a simple white tee and matching beach shorts, chatting animatedly with Nico, 47, and Phuwin, 25, but he kept glancing toward the entrance with a small, knowing smirk.

A ripple of attention moved through the room as Dean, and Josh, finally sauntered in, looking every inch like a pair of kings returning from a conquest. Nico clapped his hands lightly and laughed, "There they are! Took you two long enough."

Adrian’s head turned immediately, eyes locking onto Josh. His chest gave an unconscious, excited jolt at the sight.

Josh was pure sin — glowing, flushed, radiant from head to toe. He wore only a tight black trunk that barely covered the essentials, stretched over his thick thighs, the fabric clinging to the heavy bulge between his legs. His black hair was a chaotic, sweaty mess — strands sticking to his forehead, wild like he’d been dragged through heaven and hell on a cock. His heavy pecs looked swollen and tender, his dusky nipples puffy and erect from the rough fucking he’d clearly taken, glistening under the low light.

Coach Dean leaned lazily against the wall, arms folded, smirking darkly as Josh sauntered forward.

Josh slid into the seat right beside Adrian, his thighs brushing Adrian’s for just a second — too fleeting to be called an accident. He leaned in close, that filthy grin splitting his flushed face.

"Hey, Daddy," Josh purred low, voice dripping filth and affection.

Adrian's heart thudded hard against his ribs, heat flashing through his veins. His breath caught for a second, the word curling deliciously in his ears. He leaned in just a little, letting his steel-blue gaze roam slowly over Josh’s wrecked, glowing body, lingering shamelessly on those puffy, abused nipples.

"Hey, Trouble," Adrian murmured back, voice low and rough with restrained hunger.

Julian, too absorbed in a lively conversation with Nico about the island's nightlife, didn’t notice the filthy exchange happening right beside him.

Coach Dean sauntered around the table and dropped into the seat beside Khoa, 25, the tan, muscular Vietnamese beauty who wore nothing but a pair of snug blue beach shorts, his flawless golden-brown skin shimmering under the lights. Dean’s hand landed possessively on Khoa’s thigh, squeezing it once — hard enough to make Khoa jolt and blush. Beside Khoa, his newlywed husband Phuwin, the golden-tan, pretty Thai muscle bottom, chuckled softly at the exchange.

Adrian shifted slightly, catching the damp heat radiating from Josh’s body. He tilted his head, eyeing him up and down — the flushed cheeks, the sweat-sheened muscles, the lazy, satisfied smirk pulling at those full, kissable lips.

“You look wrecked," Adrian said quietly, the edge of a smile teasing his lips.

Josh turned his head slowly, and leaned in closer — way too close for polite dinner talk. His breath brushed Adrian’s ear, hot and thick with the scent of sex — musk, salt, a sweet heady richness that clung to his glowing skin.

"That’s because I am wrecked," Josh whispered, his lips barely an inch from Adrian's ear. "Coach just fucked the brains out of me before dinner."

Adrian inhaled sharply, the scent curling deep into his lungs. It wasn’t just sweat on Josh’s skin. It was that oil. That special, sinful oil Dean had given him. Slick, addictive, it mixed with Josh’s natural heat and the lingering musk of rough sex, creating a living, breathing aphrodisiac.

Adrian’s cock stirred heavily in his beach shorts, a slow, dangerous throb that he forced himself to ignore.

Adrian leaned in even closer, inhaling deeply, letting Josh's filthy scent flood his senses. Fuck, it smelled good. Hot, slick, addictive. It made his cock twitch again, made his fingers itch to touch, to grab, to claim.

He smirked, voice dropping to a low murmur only Josh could hear. "That explains a lot."

Josh just giggled, shameless, leaning even closer into Adrian’s side. His thick pec brushed Adrian’s bicep, hot and slick, his thigh pressing firmly against Adrian’s own.

Adrian exhaled slowly, picking up his wine glass, trying to steady himself. But fuck, with Josh’s scent wrapping around him like a noose, the heat of his post-fuck body pressed against him, it was going to be a very long dinner.

Dean didn't miss the filthy energy simmering between Adrian and Josh. He watched them with a knowing smirk, his eyes dark with amusement. Then, satisfied, he turned his full attention to Khoa.

Dean's hand slid slowly up Khoa's smooth, strong thigh, his fingers tracing lazy, possessive circles. His voice dropped low, thick with Southern drawl. "So, tell me more about Vietnam, darlin'."

Khoa blushed, his hand twitching slightly on his lap, but he smiled shyly, leaning in closer to Dean, his voice soft. "It's beautiful. Warm. Like here... but different. More chaotic. More alive."

Dean’s fingers continued their slow, teasing path along Khoa's thigh, making the younger man shift slightly in his seat, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

Across the table, Adrian shifted, trying to focus on the conversation around him, but Josh's body pressed against his side, radiating heat and the raw, addictive scent of freshly fucked submission, made concentration nearly impossible.

The dinner was just beginning—and already, the night promised nothing but sin.

Josh stuck close to Adrian, his thick, sweaty body brushing against Adrian's side at every chance. The heat rolling off him was unbearable, intoxicating, and Adrian found himself leaning in without even thinking, as if drawn by an invisible leash.

Every breath Adrian took was filled with Josh's scent — that sinful mix of sweat and the lingering sharpness of fresh cum. It clouded his thoughts, thick and heady, like drowning in filth he didn’t want to escape. His cock was swelling painfully inside his loose beach shorts, throbbing slowly against the fabric, every pulse a desperate plea for relief.

Josh leaned in, pretending to reach for a piece of fruit, his lips brushing Adrian's ear lightly. "You smell good, Daddy," he whispered, voice playful and teasing, but when Adrian shot him a look, Josh only widened his eyes and put on an act of pure, mock innocence — like he hadn’t just whispered something filthy at all.

Adrian chuckled under his breath, but even as he smirked, he instinctively leaned closer, inhaling deeply. The thick, musky heat of Josh's scent slammed into him, filthy and sweet, making his cock pulse harder against the strained fabric of his shorts. He shifted slightly in his seat, thighs tensing.

"Behave," Adrian murmured, voice low and rough, but it was barely a warning anymore. More like a plea.

They both picked at their plates — or at least pretended to. Conversation buzzed around them, but it all faded into a background hum compared to the magnetic pull between them.

Josh leaned in again, this time his shoulder brushing against Adrian's chest. Adrian couldn't resist — he dipped his head slightly, shamelessly inhaling the boy's sweaty skin. The scent of salt and sex clung thick to Josh's body, making Adrian's cock twitch violently, leaking a faint bead of precum inside his shorts.

"The Nun 2," Josh said, his voice a soft tease, "was fucking terrifying."

Adrian smirked, his voice rough. "What, you scared of a little ghost?"

Josh giggled, that low, breathy sound making Adrian's cock throb harder. "Not the ghost. The way she popped out of nowhere. Got me jumpin'."

Adrian leaned in closer, inhaling deeply again, his whole body strung tight with arousal. Josh smelled too good, too raw and ripe, like he was begging to be touched, licked, devoured.

"You’d jump into my arms if that nun showed up here," Adrian muttered against Josh's ear, his breath hot.

Josh shivered, biting his lip. "Mmm... wouldn't mind that. I'd be safer in your arms, Daddy."

Adrian gritted his teeth, cock throbbing against the dampening fabric of his shorts. He wanted to drag Josh onto his lap and bury his face in that sweaty skin.

Josh picked up a ripe strawberry from the platter, his fingers delicate and slow. He lifted it to his lips, biting into it, the juice dripping slightly down his chin, making his lips shiny and slick.

Adrian's eyes locked on him, ravenous, his mouth dry. He didn't know why — or maybe he did — but he badly wanted to kiss those glistening, sinful lips.

Josh licked the juice from his lips slowly, deliberately, then plucked another strawberry from the platter. He raised it to Adrian's mouth, the berry slick and dripping between his fingers.

"Here, Daddy," Josh whispered, voice low and sinful.

Adrian leaned forward, lips brushing Josh's sticky fingers again, his tongue darting out to capture the sweetness. His cock throbbed violently, the taste of the berry mixed with the faint, addictive taste of Josh's skin making him ache deep in his gut.

"Mmm," Adrian groaned low, voice thick with hunger, "so sweet."

Josh grinned, slow and wicked, popping another piece of fruit into his own mouth. Juice smeared his lips again, making them wet and glossy. He chewed slowly, eyes locked on Adrian like a challenge.

"Bet I taste even better," Josh teased, voice dropping dangerously low.

Adrian leaned in closer, nostrils flaring, every fiber of his body screaming to claim that mouth. His cock was a heavy, throbbing weight between his legs, desperate, aching.

Josh picked up another berry, bringing it to his lips, biting into it, letting the juice trickle down his chin before catching it with his tongue. His cheeks were flushed, his thighs pressing tighter against Adrian's.

The tension between them was molten, filthy, a slow-burn that was about to catch fire.

Josh licked the juice from his lips slowly, deliberately, then plucked another strawberry from the platter. He raised it to Adrian's mouth, the berry slick and dripping between his fingers.

"Here, Daddy," Josh whispered, voice low and sinful.

Adrian leaned forward, lips brushing Josh's sticky fingers again, his tongue darting out to capture the sweetness. This time, he didn't just taste the fruit. He licked along Josh's fingers, slow and filthy, sucking the juice from his skin until Josh whimpered under his breath.

Josh leaned in, lips brushing Adrian's ear. Adrian instinctively pressed his nose into Josh's sweaty neck, breathing him in deep, needing that smell like it was oxygen, like it was the only thing keeping him from losing his mind.

Josh's breath hitched, and then he whispered, wicked and low, "Your husband's right there..." He tilted his head slightly, glancing at Julian chatting easily with Nico across the table. "But you want me right now, don't you, Daddy?"

Adrian's cock throbbed so hard it hurt. He gritted his teeth, and without thinking, his hand shot out under the table, gripping Josh's waist firmly — fingers digging into the heated, slick skin, holding him in place.

Josh's eyes widened, his smile slow and filthy.

The fire between them burned hotter.
__________
While the tension between Josh and Adrian burned silently at one side of the table, the other side had its own slow, dangerous heat.

Coach Dean lounged back in his chair, one thick, muscled arm slung casually across the back of Khoa’s seat. Khoa, with his freshly flushed cheeks and warm golden-brown skin, sat close — almost too close — his smooth, muscular thigh brushing Dean's whenever he shifted.

Khoa was breathtaking up close. Tight, sculpted pecs, a lean waist that tapered down into thick, powerful thighs. His abs flexed every time he laughed or leaned forward, and the soft lighting of the dining hall made his skin glow like polished gold.

Dean smirked lazily, his fingers brushing along the back of Khoa’s neck. "Tell me about Vietnam," he rumbled, voice low and dripping with casual dominance.

Khoa chuckled softly, glancing up at him through thick lashes. "It's beautiful," he said. "Busy. Loud. But the food, the beaches, the mountains… there's a wildness to it."

Dean's thumb traced a slow, lazy circle against Khoa's warm skin, pulling him even closer until their shoulders brushed.
"Sounds like my kinda place," Dean drawled, his stormy gray eyes flickering over Khoa’s flawless body with heavy, open hunger. "Wild. Raw. Untamed."

Khoa laughed again, a soft, breathy sound that made Dean's cock twitch slightly under the table. Dean shifted in his seat, his hand sliding a little lower, fingers resting just above Khoa’s hip now, possessive.

Dean leaned in closer, his breath ghosting against Khoa's ear. "What's your routine, baby boy?"

At the nickname, Khoa blinked, his heart thudding. He instinctively glanced sideways — toward his newlywed husband, Phuwin, who was laughing softly with Nico, Cassian, and Julian.

Khoa loved Phuwin. But the attention burning into his skin from Dean’s touch… it made something hot and dangerous flicker deep in his belly. And he loved that too.

Khoa turned back to Dean, cheeks flushing deeper, but with a small, guilty smile playing at his lips.

Dean's voice dropped into a filthy growl. "How the hell you keep a body that tight?" His hand squeezed Khoa's side gently, fingers digging into the firm muscle.

Khoa smirked shyly, playing along. "Lift five days a week. Cardio after. Core every morning."

Dean’s mouth curved into a dark, approving smile. "Mmm. I can tell."

Dean’s hand slid boldly up Khoa's side, his thumb tracing under the curve of his pec, dangerously close to the hard muscle. "Bet you drive everyone at the gym crazy, struttin' around with that perfect fucking body," Dean murmured, voice thick with heat.

Khoa chuckled low, cocky now, his own thigh pressing more deliberately into Dean's. "Only the ones who can't handle it," he teased.

Dean’s smirk widened. "You fuck as good as you look, baby boy?"

Khoa’s eyes flashed. He leaned in, lips brushing Dean’s ear, breath hot and teasing. "Better," he whispered. "I’d split you open and have you begging for more."

Dean’s cock jerked hard under the table, a low, hungry growl rumbling deep in his chest. His fingers tightened around Khoa's waist.

Dean was excited—no doubt about that—but fuck no, he wasn't the one getting bent. He already pictured Khoa bent over, dripping sweat, hole stretched wide and begging for more.

Dean leaned back slightly, hand still possessive at Khoa's waist, his voice low and teasing. "How 'bout we hit the gym together later?" he rumbled. "Could show you a few things. Coach you into lookin' even hotter, if that's even possible."

Khoa turned, smirking. "You sure you can handle me, Coach?"

Dean's fingers dug in a little harder. "Baby boy, by the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember your own damn name."

And then—under the table—Dean’s hand slipped lower.

His fingers found the thick bulge straining against Khoa’s tight swim shorts. He squeezed, slow and deliberate, feeling Khoa's cock stiffen under his touch.

Khoa's body tensed for a second—but he never stopped eating, never broke conversation, his face the picture of casual innocence.

Dean stroked along the hardening length, thumb pressing firmly against the thick shape through the fabric, feeling it grow under his palm. His cock throbbed at the power, the control, the silent filthy game they were playing.

Khoa lifted a forkful of food to his mouth, lips quirking slightly at the corner, never missing a beat. His thigh pressed harder into Dean's leg in silent permission.

Dean’s breath rumbled low in his chest.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, "you're gonna be so much fun to break."

Dean’s hand slipped inside the waistband of Khoa’s tight swim shorts.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he tugged the shorts down just enough to free Khoa’s cock—thick, flushed, throbbing hard under the table.

Dean leaned forward slightly, his face dangerously close, and without shame, let a thick gob of spit drip from his mouth, landing wet and messy right onto the crown of Khoa’s leaking cock.

The spit slid down the shaft, glistening.

Dean’s hand wrapped around the wet shaft instantly, slow, deliberate, stroking up and down while Khoa calmly chewed his food, face blank except for the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips.

Dean’s hand wrapped around the wet shaft instantly, slow, deliberate, stroking up and down while Khoa calmly chewed his food, face blank except for the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips.

Dean leaned in close, voice a filthy whisper against Khoa's ear. "You're sittin' there so fuckin' pretty, baby boy. If they knew you had your cock out under the table, dripping for me..."

Khoa smirked around a casual bite of his food, voice low and cocky. "Maybe I like the danger, Dean."

Dean squeezed a little tighter around the slick shaft, dragging his fist slow over the thick length. "You like makin' me crazy, don't you?"

Khoa licked a bit of sauce from his lip, deliberately slow. "Maybe I just like how you look when you're desperate."

Dean growled low under his breath, his cock throbbing painfully against his shorts.

And then—Khoa’s hand moved under the table.

Without looking, without breaking the rhythm of his slow, deliberate chewing, Khoa's fingers slid across Dean’s thigh, finding the thick bulge hidden beneath Dean's shorts.

His hand closed around it—big, heavy, and rock-hard.

Khoa gave a slow, squeezing stroke, feeling how Dean's cock twitched and throbbed under his palm.

Dean's breathing hitched, his hand faltering for a second around Khoa's slick shaft.

Khoa leaned in, voice a filthy murmur. "Feels like you're the one 'bout to lose control, Dean."

Dean chuckled darkly under his breath, recovering fast, his hand resuming its slow, filthy strokes along Khoa's spit-slick cock. "Careful, baby boy," he whispered. "You keep teasin' me like that, and I'll make sure you don't walk straight for a week."

Khoa smirked, voice even filthier as he whispered back, "It’s you who won't be able to walk straight."

Without hesitation, Khoa's hand slipped further, pushing into the waistband of Dean's shorts, fingers eagerly reaching for the thick cock hidden inside—

—but just before he could wrap his fingers around it, Vico suddenly stood up from his seat, clapping his hands lightly.

"So," Vico said cheerfully, voice cutting through the haze of tension, "what should we do now? Dinner's over."

Dean and Khoa froze, their hands still tangled under the table, hearts pounding, filthy promises left hanging in the thick, charged air.

The sudden sound of Vico’s voice shattered the molten, filthy tension under the table.

Adrian blinked, snapping out of the haze he’d been drowning in. With a low, shaky breath, he carefully pulled himself away from Josh, feeling the heat of the boy still clinging to his skin. Josh’s thigh brushed his one last time before he settled back casually in his chair, like nothing had happened.

Julian turned toward Adrian, oblivious, flashing him a soft, easy smile. Adrian forced a smile back, heart hammering against his ribs.

Across the table, Dean and Khoa also shifted quickly, both pulling their hands back to their own laps, though the throbbing heat of what had just happened still pulsed between them like a heartbeat.

Cassian, ever the smooth host, chuckled lightly. "There’s a couple of pool tables in the game room," he offered, leaning back lazily in his chair. "Might be a good way to work off dinner."

Josh immediately perked up, grinning wide. "Pool sounds fun."

Vico shook his head, stretching his arms over his head with a lazy yawn. "Not really in the mood for pool," he said. "Think I’m gonna take a walk down the beach instead. Night breeze sounds good."

Cassian smiled at his husband, standing up with a fluid stretch. "Sounds perfect. I’ll come with you."
Phuwin chimed in eagerly, "Me too!"

Julian laughed softly, glancing between the groups. "Guess I’m more of a beach guy too tonight."

Within minutes, they naturally broke into two groups.

Cassian, Vico, Phuwin, and Julian started making their way down the lush, palm-lined path toward the beach, their laughter soft and easy under the night sky.

Meanwhile, Dean, Khoa, Adrian, and Josh peeled off in the opposite direction, heading toward the game room.
But there was nothing soft or easy about them.

Every step toward the game room was charged—their bodies still aching, cocks still throbbing against tight swim shorts and thin beach pants. Every brush of a shoulder, every glance out of the corner of an eye was thick with filthy promise.

Josh kept bumping his thick shoulder into Adrian's arm, his body radiating heat, flashing that filthy, teasing grin every time their hips brushed.

Adrian’s cock was still rock-hard, heavy in his shorts, the faint damp spot from earlier teasing against the fabric with every step.

Behind them, Dean’s thick hand casually slid down Khoa’s lower back, fingers brushing too low to be innocent, making Khoa’s skin erupt in shivers.

Khoa smirked sideways at him, cock throbbing inside his tight shorts, already aching to be touched again—or to touch.
All four of them walked side-by-side, muscles flexing, sweat glistening faintly under the moonlight, each man barely keeping it together, hunger radiating off their bodies like a second skin.

The walk to the game room felt endless—and every step pushed Adrian closer to the edge. Josh kept brushing against him, that thick, sweaty body radiating heat, the scent of his skin—salt, lust, and something uniquely filthy—invading Adrian’s senses. Adrian kept leaning closer unconsciously, breathing him in like a fucking drug, his cock throbbing harder with every step.

Without warning, Josh slid an arm around Adrian’s waist in a lazy, teasing side hug, pressing his hot, flexed body against Adrian’s side. Adrian let out a low, broken breath and finally gave in—he dipped his head down and kissed Josh's sweaty neck, tasting the salt and raw heat, growling low against his skin.

Josh chuckled, voice a low purr. "If you wanna kiss my neck so bad, Daddy," he teased, hips brushing Adrian’s cock through their thin shorts, "just carry me there."

Adrian glanced around—Julian and the others were already gone, laughing down toward the beach.

Fuck it.

Adrian let out a dark, hungry sound and grabbed Josh around the waist, lifting him effortlessly into his arms, bridal style. Josh gasped and laughed, arms wrapping around Adrian’s broad shoulders.

Adrian buried his face against Josh's neck, inhaling deep and filthy, dragging his tongue slowly up the sweaty line of Josh’s throat as he carried him. His cock throbbed almost painfully now, rubbing against Josh’s thigh with every step.

Josh whimpered softly against Adrian's ear, squeezing tighter around his shoulders. "Daddy..." he breathed, low and needy.

Behind them, Dean and Khoa watched the filthy display unfold.

Khoa raised a brow, smirking. "What the hell is wrong with them?"

Dean didn't even look. He grabbed Khoa by the wrist, spun him around to face him, and hissed, "Don't care about them. Focus on me."

Before Khoa could react, Dean fisted his hand in Khoa’s dark hair, yanked his head back just enough, and crushed their mouths together.

The kiss was brutal.

Dean's lips devoured Khoa’s, tongue forcing its way past his teeth, tasting, claiming. His other hand gripped Khoa’s jaw, holding him firm, owning him.

Khoa growled into the kiss, pressing harder, his hands gripping Dean's thick arms. Their cocks ground together through their shorts, thick, swollen, desperate for more.

Dean bit Khoa’s lower lip roughly, pulling a soft grunt from him, then dove back in, kissing him dirtier, filthier, tongues tangling like a fight for dominance they both secretly craved.

The walk to the game room was nothing but bodies, sweat, lust, and the thick, heavy scent of desperate, filthy need.

Adrian shoved the door open with his shoulder and strode into the game room, carrying Josh like he weighed nothing. The room was dimly lit, two sleek pool tables gleaming under soft overhead lights.

Adrian didn’t hesitate. He walked straight to the nearest table and dropped Josh onto the polished surface, setting him down hard enough to make Josh gasp. Josh stayed clinging to him, arms still wrapped tight around Adrian's neck and shoulders, legs spreading naturally, invitingly.

Adrian settled himself between Josh’s spread thighs, cock pressing up against the table edge, face still buried against Josh’s throat. The heat of him, the smell—fuck, it drove him insane.

"Why," Adrian growled against Josh's skin, "do you smell so fucking good… and taste even better?" He leaned in again, tongue dragging a long, filthy stripe up Josh's neck before sucking hard, leaving dark, wet bite marks along the flushed skin. Josh moaned, arching into him, and slid his hands down—palming Adrian's clothed cock, feeling the thick, leaking weight of it through the thin fabric.

Adrian groaned low against Josh's throat, his hips flexing automatically into Josh’s greedy touch.

The door banged open behind them, and Dean and Khoa stumbled in, still locked in an obscene, filthy kiss—hands roaming, hips grinding together shamelessly. Their mouths broke apart with a wet sound, and Khoa leaned back against the wall, breathless, lips swollen, chest heaving.

Dean wrapped an arm possessively around Khoa's waist, grinning darkly. "So," he drawled, voice rough and thick, "are we playing pool, or what?"

Adrian snapped back to reality, pulling away from Josh slightly. His eyes flicked to Dean, guilt crashing down as he remember that Josh is Dean's boyfriend.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Adrian muttered. "I didn't—I forgot—Josh… he's… your—"

Dean just smirked, waving a hand lazily. "Whatever. I don't give a fuck," he said casually. "Fuck him if you want. I don't care."

Adrian stared, stunned, but Josh only grinned wider and tugged him back by the tank top.

Dean pulled Khoa toward the second pool table with a rough yank. "Let's play two separate games."

Adrian, still reeling from Dean’s words, turned back to Josh, confused.

Josh just smirked, dragging a finger slowly down Adrian’s chest. "Let's play..." he purred. "Winner gets a wish. Loser has to grant it."

Adrian buried his face back into Josh’s sweaty, addictive neck, licking a slow, filthy line up his throat.

"Yeah..." Adrian muttered, voice rough and desperate. "Whatever you want."

And the game room pulsed with a new, dirtier energy — full of promises neither of them planned to keep clean. 

Dean yanked Khoa closer by the waistband of his shorts, his hands rough and greedy, and crashed their mouths together again without warning.

The kiss was pure dominance—filthy, sloppy, and brutal. Dean’s tongue forced Khoa’s lips apart, invading his mouth with wet, aggressive hunger, tasting every inch like he had the right to own it. His teeth scraped against Khoa’s lips, biting hard enough to leave the skin raw and flushed. Saliva smeared between them, dripping down their chins as they devoured each other shamelessly.

Dean groaned into Khoa’s mouth, hands gripping his ass, grinding their hard cocks together through their tight shorts. Khoa fought back, his hands clawing at Dean’s shoulders, but every time he tried to regain control, Dean shoved him harder against the edge of the pool table, forcing him to submit to the filthy kiss.

When they finally broke apart, both men were panting, lips slick and swollen, cocks throbbing against each other’s hips.
Dean smirked darkly, wiping a trail of spit from his mouth with the back of his hand. "Let's make it interesting, baby boy."
He leaned in close, voice low and rough. "Whoever loses the game… gets fucked."

Khoa’s heart thudded, a shiver running down his spine even as he forced a cocky smirk onto his lips. He was a top. He had never been fucked before—still tight, untouched. And he was damn confident he wasn’t about to start tonight.

Still, the filthy promise hanging in the air made his cock twitch hard.

Khoa crossed his arms, smirking wider. "Fine," he said, voice deep and challenging. "But get ready, Dean… to get your ass split open."

Dean just chuckled, low and dangerous, eyes dark with lust.

"We'll see about that, baby boy."

The stakes were filthy. The tension was unbearable.

And the night was just getting started.
___
On the other side of the room, Josh shoved Adrian back playfully, smirking as he slid down from the pool table. Adrian, still drunk off Josh’s scent, lunged back in, desperate to kiss and lick every inch of that sweaty, addictive skin.

Josh pressed a hand against Adrian’s chest with a wicked grin. "Let's play the game, Daddy," he teased, voice dripping heat.

Adrian chuckled low, leaning in, his breath brushing Josh's lips. "Baby boy, you’re playin' with fire."

Josh's dark eyes dropped to Adrian’s loose tank top clinging to his broad, powerful chest. "You're way too overdressed. Can't have you hiding that fuckin' masterpiece from me."

Adrian smirked, flexing his chest deliberately under the fabric. "You want a show, baby? I'll give you a fuckin' show."

Without waiting, Josh grabbed the hem of Adrian's tank and yanked it up and over his head in one rough motion, tossing it to the floor with a smirk.

Adrian’s body was on full, sinful display—thick, broad shoulders tapering into a massive chest dusted lightly with silver hair, solid pecs like slabs of marble, tight ridged abs leading down into a sinful V-cut that vanished under his low-slung shorts. His arms were heavy, veiny, thick with raw strength, his bronze skin slick with a faint sheen of sweat.

Josh's breath hitched, eyes roaming greedily over every inch. "Fuck, Daddy," he groaned low. "You're built to destroy."

Adrian grinned darkly, tilting his head. "Am I?"

Without shame, Josh dragged his palms over Adrian's wide chest, fingers splaying wide to claim every inch. His thumbs flicked over Adrian’s thick, dark nipples—and Adrian shuddered violently, a strangled grunt tearing from his throat.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" Josh teased, voice thick with filth.

Adrian gasped, his hips jerking forward slightly. "Fuck, baby boy… you’re gonna be the death of me."

Josh's lips curled into a wicked grin. He circled Adrian’s nipples again, slower this time, making Adrian’s heavy chest heave under his teasing touch. Adrian’s cock twitched violently, pressing up against the inside of his shorts, a growing wet spot darkening the fabric.

Adrian leaned in close again, voice a raw, broken growl. "You keep that up, and I'll bend you over this fuckin' table 'til you're screamin' my name."

Josh laughed breathlessly, dragging his hands teasingly lower across Adrian's abs, nails scraping lightly against the tight, sweaty skin. "Maybe that's exactly what I want, Daddy."

Adrian snarled low, grabbing Josh by the hips and grinding their bodies together shamelessly for a second before letting go, chest heaving.

Josh grabbed a pool stick, winking over his shoulder, his ass flexing beautifully in those tight shorts. "Let's play. Winner gets whatever they want."

Adrian, cock throbbing painfully against his shorts, bent down to grab his own stick, muscles flexing, his eyes locked on Josh with the promise of filthy, filthy things.

"You better be ready to lose, baby boy," Adrian rumbled. "'Cause I'm not goin' easy on you."

The game had officially begun—and it was going to get filthy fast.

Josh leaned over the table, lining up his first shot, his ass sticking out shamelessly, flexing under the tight stretch of his shorts.

Adrian’s cock throbbed at the sight, precum leaking steadily inside his damp shorts. He growled low under his breath, stepping closer behind Josh.

Every time he got near, Adrian couldn’t help himself—he leaned in subtly, breathing deep, pulling in Josh's heady scent of sweat, skin, and something purely addictive that made his brain fog with need. He shuddered, forcing himself to stay in control.

"You bend over like that one more time," Adrian rumbled, voice dark and raw, "and I’m gonna lose it right here, baby boy."

Josh shot him a filthy smirk over his shoulder. He took his shot—sinking a ball cleanly into the corner pocket—then dragged the tip of the cue stick slowly over his sweaty shoulder, giving Adrian a look so filthy it should've been illegal.

"Your turn, Daddy," Josh purred.

Adrian grabbed his own stick, stalking around the table like a predator, eyes locked on Josh the entire time, nostrils flaring slightly as he inhaled Josh's lingering scent. He bent over, lining up his shot—and Josh immediately came up behind him, dragging his hand down the hard, sweaty line of Adrian’s back.

"Mmm," Josh hummed low. "All that muscle... all for me."

Adrian chuckled, flexing his thick back deliberately under Josh's teasing touch. "Keep touchin', baby boy... and I'm gonna show you what you can't have," he teased, voice rough but steady, keeping that invisible line firm.

Josh didn’t stop. His hands slipped lower, grazing the curve of Adrian’s ass, making Adrian’s cock jerk violently against the inside of his shorts.

Adrian took his shot anyway, sinking two balls in a row without even blinking, though his whole body tensed from restraint.

"Fuck, Daddy," Josh moaned, shameless. "Good with your hands... and your stick."

Adrian straightened up slowly, towering over Josh, cock hard and leaking, dark eyes burning with hunger, but there was still a playful edge to his voice.

"Only good at playin', baby boy," Adrian said, his tone dripping filthy promise but staying just barely on the right side of temptation. He grabbed Josh by the hips, grinding their bodies together briefly, his thick cock rubbing shamelessly against Josh's leaking bulge, but careful, teasing.

Josh gasped, tilting his head back, giving Adrian his throat like an offering. "Fuckin' use me, Daddy," he whispered, voice breaking with need.

Adrian leaned in, lips brushing Josh’s ear. He breathed deep again, soaking in Josh's addictive scent. "Win this game, baby boy," he rumbled, teasing hot against Josh's ear, "and maybe... maybe I'll let you dream about it."

Josh shivered, stepping back with a wicked grin, licking his lips slowly. "Oh, I'm gonna win, Daddy. And when I do... you're mine."

Adrian smirked, cock twitching painfully, but his voice stayed teasing, light. "Dream big, baby boy."

Josh leaned over the table again for his next shot, ass up high, shamelessly teasing.

Adrian couldn't resist. He stepped up behind him, his big hand sliding over Josh's sweaty back, fingers dragging slow, filthy lines over the broad muscles. His touch was deliberate, calculated, meant to distract and tease.

Josh shivered under the contact, but kept his eyes on the ball, biting his lip.

"Mmm, you keep archin' that sweet ass at me," Adrian rumbled low, "you're beggin' me to cheat, baby boy."

Josh gave a breathless laugh, wiggling his hips back against Adrian’s crotch, grinding teasingly against the thick, leaking bulge pressing into him.

"Maybe I want you to cheat," Josh whispered, voice thick with heat. "Maybe I want Daddy to lose control."

Adrian leaned down, lips brushing just behind Josh's ear as he inhaled his scent again—sweaty, raw, addictive—before growling, "Careful, baby. You don’t know how hard I'm fightin' not to ruin you right now."

Josh grinned wickedly, deliberately stretching even further across the table, his shorts riding up tight over the curve of his ass.

Adrian’s hand slid lower, grazing the small of Josh's back, fingers slipping just under the waistband of his shorts to tease at the sweaty skin underneath.

Josh let out a soft, filthy whimper, nearly missing his shot.

"Fuck, Daddy," Josh gasped, turning his head to look at him with blown pupils. "You play so dirty."

Adrian smirked, pulling his hand back—barely—his self-control hanging by a thread. "Just helpin' you lose, baby boy."

Josh laughed breathlessly, standing up and facing Adrian, their chests brushing, their cocks so close it was unbearable.

"You keep touchin' me like that," Josh whispered hotly against Adrian's lips, "and I'll let you do whatever you want when you win."

Adrian groaned low, breathing in Josh's sinful scent again, fingers twitching to grab him, bend him over the damn table.
But he stayed teasing, playful, filthy.

"You're dangerous, baby boy," Adrian muttered, eyes dark. "And you don't even fuckin' know it."

Josh smirked, dragging his fingers down Adrian’s sweaty chest again before grabbing his cue stick.

"Then make your move, Daddy."

The game—and the filthy tension—only grew hotter.

Adrian moved to take his shot, bending low over the table, the muscles of his back and arms flexing under the sweat-slicked bronze skin. His thick cock strained against his shorts, heavy and leaking with every subtle graze of Josh's gaze.

As Adrian lined up the cue, Josh slid closer, pretending to adjust his position. His fingers trailed lightly down Adrian’s spine—and then, sneaky and deliberate, brushed over Adrian’s left hand…

Over his wedding ring.

Josh's fingers toyed with it for a moment, before slowly, teasingly slipping it off.

Adrian felt it—watched it—but didn't stop him. He lifted his dark, burning eyes toward Josh’s face, breathing hard through his nose, nostrils flaring as he inhaled Josh's sweaty, filthy scent—sweet and raw and addictive. But he said nothing. He let it happen.

Josh slid the ring onto his own finger, smirking devilishly. "Guess that makes me yours now, Daddy," he purred, voice dripping filth.

Adrian grinned slow, teeth flashing. "Baby boy, you were mine the second you pressed that hot body all over me."

Josh bit his lip hard, watching Adrian’s every move with wide, hungry eyes.

Adrian straightened, cock tenting his shorts obscenely, and sauntered around the table with the slow, confident swagger of a man who knew he was winning—and planned to savor every second of it.

"You ready to lose, baby boy?" Adrian rumbled, brushing the tip of his cue stick along Josh's thigh deliberately.

Josh shivered, breath hitching. "Depends what happens if I do, Daddy."

Adrian chuckled low, playful but filthy, keeping that razor-thin line of control. He circled Josh slowly, eyes dark. "If you lose, baby boy," he murmured, voice thick with promise, "you're gonna owe me somethin' real nice."

Josh whimpered under his breath, thighs pressing together, cock leaking steadily against his shorts.

"Fuck, Daddy," Josh gasped, voice cracking with need.

Adrian leaned in, breathing Josh's scent deep into his lungs, savoring every second. His voice dropped into a filthy, teasing whisper. "You make it so damn hard to behave, baby boy."

Josh nodded, swallowing hard, completely wrecked already.

Adrian smirked, lined up his next shot, and sank two balls cleanly—leading the game, utterly in control.

Josh was trembling, horny, desperate—and he hadn't even lost yet.

And Adrian was just getting started.

The game dragged on filthy and tense, every shot charged with desperate, throbbing heat. Adrian was relentless, each perfect shot sending Josh further into horny ruin. It wasn't even close anymore.

There were only two balls left on the table—and Adrian was obviously winning.

Josh, flushed deep red, sweaty and panting, climbed up onto the pool table, sitting at the edge with his legs spread wide, shamelessly inviting. His cock strained against the fabric of his shorts, dark and leaking.

Adrian stalked over to him, tossing his cue stick aside. His cock bulged obscenely in his shorts, leaking, throbbing. He pressed himself between Josh's spread legs, grabbed the back of his neck, and devoured him. His mouth latched onto Josh’s sweaty throat, sucking hard, biting, leaving brutal marks across the flushed skin. His tongue dragged filthy, wet lines over Josh's pulse point, tasting salt and pure, desperate need.

Josh whimpered, gripping Adrian's thick shoulders, grinding their cocks together shamelessly.

"Fuck, Daddy," Josh gasped, voice wrecked. "Feels so good…"

Adrian growled low against his neck, hips grinding harder, rubbing his leaking cock against Josh’s swollen bulge.

"You smell… so fuckin' good," Adrian snarled, dragging his teeth down the side of Josh's throat. "I could fuckin' drown in you."

Josh moaned filthy against his ear, legs wrapping loosely around Adrian's waist, pulling him closer.

Adrian's hands roamed everywhere—over Josh's sweat-slick pecs, down his tight abs, grabbing his hips hard enough to bruise. He bit down on Josh’s collarbone, making the boy shudder violently in his arms.

"Daddy... please..." Josh whined, grinding shamelessly against Adrian's cock, the heat between them unbearable.

Adrian lifted his head, breathing hard, nostrils flaring, sweat dripping down his temples. "You're mine tonight, baby boy," He rasped, voice thick, dirty, and wrecked.

And Josh—wrecked, filthy, desperate—nodded eagerly, grinding harder against him, ready for whatever Adrian had planned next. He whimpered again, fingers tangling in Adrian's messy hair, pulling him up, crashing their mouths together.

The Hot Daddy was taken aback for a heartbeat—frozen, stunned—but then he snapped, hunger breaking loose. He didn't fucking know why he let it happen, why he needed it so bad—but he couldn't stop. He growled deep in his chest and dominated the kiss instantly, crushing Josh's mouth under his. Their teeth clashed violently, tongues battling, hot and filthy.

Adrian forced his tongue past Josh's lips, fucking into his mouth, tasting every ounce of sweat, spit, and pure need.

Spit smeared across their lips, dripping down their chins. Adrian fisted Josh's hair tight, tilting his head brutally, kissing him deeper, rougher, sloppier. His teeth scraped against Josh's swollen lips, pulling soft whimpers and desperate gasps from the boy's throat.

Josh melted inside Adrian’s arms, whimpering, his body shaking from the sheer force of it. His cock throbbed helplessly, leaking pre-cum into his already soaked shorts, hips rutting helplessly against Adrian's thigh.

Adrian devoured him like he owned him—and right now, he did.

Josh whimpered, hands trembling as he slid them down Adrian's heaving chest, fingers fumbling until they reached the thick bulge in his shorts.

Without hesitation, Josh hooked his fingers into Adrian’s waistband and shoved it down, freeing Adrian’s heavy, monstrous cock—thick, veiny, uncut, and flushed a dark, angry red at the tip, glistening with steady drips of precum. It was a fucking weapon, long and heavy enough to slap against Adrian's lower abs with a wet, obscene sound as it sprang free.

Josh froze for a second, his mouth dropping open. He stared, drooling shamelessly, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Adrian’s cock was bigger than Coach's—thicker, longer, rawer—something primal and filthy that made Josh’s whole body shudder with desperate need.

"Fuck, Daddy..." Josh breathed, voice wrecked, eyes wide with pure hunger. "You're fuckin' massive..."

Adrian groaned, hips jerking forward instinctively as Josh wrapped his hand greedily around the thick shaft, stroking it slow and filthy, fingers barely able to circle it.

Josh broke the kiss just enough to whisper, breath hot and desperate against Adrian's swollen lips, "You're obviously winning, Daddy..." He gave Adrian's cock a slow, teasing stroke, dragging his palm over every pulsing vein. "What do you want?"

Adrian opened his eyes, staring at Josh—the messy, sweaty hair, the flushed, beautiful face, the perfect body spread out shamelessly for him. His cock throbbed painfully in Josh’s hand, drooling precum onto Josh’s wrist. He was about to say it. About to growl, "I want you," and fuck consequences.

But then—the soft click of the door caught both their attention.

They both turned.

The door was closing.

Khoa and Dean were gone.

And just like that, reality came crashing back down.

Julian.

Fuck. He was married. What the fuck was he doing?

Panic sliced through him. Guilt. Horror.

Adrian stumbled back quickly, pulling away from Josh like he'd been burned. He wiped the spit and sweat from his swollen lips, yanking his shorts up, shoving his leaking cock back inside with shaking hands.

"This... this is wrong..." Adrian muttered, voice hoarse and broken. "Fuck... I'm sorry, Josh. I'm sorry."

Without another word, he turned and bolted from the room, chest heaving, heart pounding like a war drum.

"Daddy!" Josh called after him, half-rising from the table, cock still rock hard and glistening, but Adrian was already gone.

Josh sat there alone, breathing hard, a slow smirk curling over his swollen lips.

He glanced down at the wedding ring still resting on his finger.

Slowly, he slid his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting Adrian there, still hot, salty, and lingering.

"Slowly, Daddy," Josh whispered to the empty room, voice dripping pure filth. "I'll have you... slowly."

He grinned wider.

The game wasn't over.

It was only just beginning.
____

Back on Dean and Khoa side, before the game even begin.

Dean smirked, grabbing his cue stick, his arm casually slung around Khoa's waist as he guided him to the second pool table. His loose beach shirt hung open, the fabric clinging to his sweaty, thick chest and ripped abs, the muscles underneath flexing with every casual, filthy move.

Khoa rolled his shoulders, flashing Dean a cocky, wicked grin. His body was still buzzing from the sloppy, filthy kisses they’d shared earlier—his cock thick and heavy, throbbing inside his tight blue beach shorts, a damp spot already forming at the tip. His golden skin gleamed under the low lights, muscles flexing deliciously with every breath.

Dean leaned in, his breath hot and filthy against Khoa's ear. "Remember the bet, baby boy," he rumbled, voice dripping pure sin. "Loser gets fucked. Hard."

Khoa chuckled low, deep and confident, lining up his cue with a swagger that screamed arrogance. "You better start stretchin', old man. You're gonna need it."

Dean barked a dark, filthy laugh, his cock twitching painfully in his shorts. "You’re cocky for someone who's gonna be cryin' for more."

Khoa bent low over the table, the thin fabric of his shorts riding dangerously high, barely covering the plump, muscular swell of his ass. Dean’s eyes locked onto it, mouth dry, cock throbbing harder.

Dean couldn't resist.

As Khoa bent, Dean bent too—pressing his massive, sweaty body right up against Khoa’s exposed ass. His thick, powerful chest pressed down onto Khoa's smooth, muscular back, the open beach shirt slipping aside completely, letting the heat of their skin collide.

Khoa gasped, feeling the raw strength of Dean's body pinning him there, the heavy weight of Dean’s hard cock grinding against his ass through the thin barrier of their shorts.

Dean groaned low, letting his mouth hover just above Khoa’s ear. "Feel that, baby boy?" he rasped, voice thick with filth. "That’s what you’re gonna be takin' when you lose."

Khoa shivered violently under him, cock throbbing so hard it hurt. Dean stayed pressed against him for a long, filthy heartbeat—grinding slow, letting Khoa feel every twitch, every throb, every filthy promise. He gritted his teeth, focusing through the overwhelming heat, and somehow took his shot.

Distracted by the thick, suffocating presence of Dean’s body grinding into him, he missed.

Dean chuckled darkly, stepping forward, his hand dragging slow and deliberate down Khoa’s sweaty back, fingers grazing the waistband of those tight blue shorts just to tease, just to threaten.

"My turn, baby boy," Dean whispered, letting his hand drift a little lower, fingers brushing just above the curve of Khoa's ass.

Dean grabbed his cue stick again, cocky smirk plastered on his face as he lined up his shot.

This time, it was Dean's turn to bend—his massive body stretching over the table, the loose beach shirt sliding off his thick, sweaty back, clinging to the curve of his wide shoulders and arms. His swim shorts strained around his ass, the heavy bulge of his cock swinging under him.

Khoa couldn't resist. He stepped right up behind Dean, crowding into his space, letting his cock press shamelessly against Dean's thick ass through his tight blue shorts. He dragged his fingertips slowly up the back of Dean's thighs, over the meat of his ass, playful, taunting.

"You look good bent over, Dean," Khoa murmured, voice dripping filthy amusement. "Might keep you like this after I win."

Dean let out a dark, rumbling chuckle. "Keep talkin', baby boy. Maybe I'll let you dream about it."

Without missing a beat, Dean shifted his hips back—grinding slow against Khoa's throbbing cock—then smoothly took his shot.

Crack.

One ball sank into the pocket. Then another.

Dean straightened up slowly, dragging his body along Khoa's as he rose, the heat between them almost unbearable.

"Two down, baby," Dean said low against Khoa’s ear, voice thick and filthy. "Guess you better start thinkin' about how you like it—slow, rough, or beggin'."

Khoa clenched his jaw, cock aching harder from the filthy tension. He flicked a glance across the room—catching sight of Josh and Adrian at the other table.

Khoa smirked, watching as Adrian, looking wrecked and hungry, couldn't keep his hands off Josh, constantly touching, leaning in, inhaling him like he was addicted.

"Looks like your boy's about to get himself eaten alive," Khoa teased, dragging his eyes back to Dean.

Dean didn’t even glance. He grabbed Khoa by the waistband of his tight blue shorts and yanked him closer, their cocks grinding together shamelessly.

"Focus on your own fuckin' game, baby boy," Dean growled, low and lethal. "Or you're the one who's gonna be beggin' by the end of the night."

Khoa shivered, the filthy promise slamming straight into his gut.

The game was only getting dirtier.

And neither of them had any intention of playing fair.

It was Khoa’s turn again.

Khoa bent low over the table, ass high, the tight blue shorts clinging desperately to the plump curve of his muscles, the sweat making the fabric practically translucent.

Dean’s cock throbbed violently at the sight.

Unable to hold back, Dean stepped right up behind him, his rough hands sliding down Khoa’s sides before fondling his ass—palming the thick globes shamelessly, squeezing, kneading, groaning under his breath.

Khoa tried to line up his shot, but froze when he felt Dean's fingers hook into the waistband of his shorts and tug them down, exposing the golden tan flesh of his bare ass to the hot, humid air.

"Dean—" Khoa started to protest, half-turning, but before he could finish, Dean dropped to a squat right behind him.

Khoa stiffened, his heart slamming into his ribs.

"What the fuck are you—"

He gasped when he felt Dean's big hands spread his ass cheeks wide, exposing the tight, untouched ring of his virgin hole—pink, tight, clenching instinctively.

Dean groaned low in his throat, inhaling the raw, musky scent of Khoa’s most private place, the filthy smell driving him insane.

"Fuck, baby boy," Dean growled, voice wrecked. "You're fuckin' perfect down here. Tight little cherry just waitin' to get broken."

Khoa had never been touched like this before—never—and the first wet, filthy swipe of Dean's tongue against his hole made him cry out, his knees nearly buckling.

The sensation was overwhelming. Raw. Electric. His hole fluttered helplessly against Dean's tongue, the sudden wet heat making Khoa’s cock throb painfully hard between his legs, dripping precum onto the pool table in thick, heavy drops.

"F-Fuck!" Khoa gasped, voice wrecked, fingers clawing desperately at the table edge. "Dean... fuck, that’s—"

Dean didn't stop.

He licked harder, sloppier, spit slicking the tight hole as he rimmed him slow and filthy—his tongue teasing, fucking, violating that untouched ring, making obscene, wet sounds against Khoa's most sensitive place.

Khoa's whole body shook, chest heaving, sweat pouring down his back. His cock throbbed uncontrollably, aching for touch, for anything. He had never felt anything like this—the filthy, debasing pleasure of being eaten open.

Dean pulled back just long enough to growl, his voice dripping with hunger, "Gonna get this sweet little hole ready, baby boy... gonna ruin you so good."

Before Khoa could even think to respond, Dean dove back in, tongue stabbing deep, licking and pressing, spreading him wider, making him feel exposed, owned, fucked by just his mouth.
"Fuck, Dean!" Khoa sobbed, hips jerking helplessly. "Fuck… you’re gonna... you’re gonna…"

Dean just growled deeper, rutting his face into Khoa’s ass, tongue relentless.

The slick, wet sounds filled the air, obscene and filthy, as Khoa slowly broke apart right there on the pool table—moaning, dripping, melting under Dean's mouth.

Khoa's body trembled as he somehow pushed himself upright, standing on shaky legs, ass glistening with Dean's spit, feeling the slick wetness and obscene stickiness trailing down the crack of his ass.

Panting, cock leaking and throbbing like a live wire, Khoa managed to pick up his cue stick, biting his lip hard to concentrate.

"Your turn," Khoa rasped breathlessly, his voice rough and broken as he aimed for the ball, his body still burning from Dean's filthy assault. He tried to focus, tried to ignore the filthy heat pooling between his legs, but it was useless. He struck the ball—it clattered against the others but didn't sink a damn thing.

Dean chuckled dark and filthy behind him.

"Fuck, baby boy," Dean drawled, voice dripping with sin. "You can't even play straight after a little tongue-fuck?"

Before Khoa could respond, Dean grabbed him roughly by the waist, turned him, and lifted him onto the pool table with one easy hoist.

Khoa gasped as his back hit the cool surface, legs hanging off the edge, his cock standing proud and flushed against his sweaty abs, thick veins running along the shaft, leaking heavy, viscous drops of precum that smeared between their grinding bodies.

Dean loomed over him, pressing their bodies together chest-to-chest, the open beach shirt brushing teasingly over Khoa’s fevered skin. Khoa’s arms instinctively wrapped around Dean's thick neck, dragging him down closer, desperate for the contact.

Dean grinned darkly, grabbed his cue stick with one hand, and lined up his next shot while grinding his cock against Khoa’s leaking shaft, the wet heat smearing slick between their abs.

"Keep that pretty fuckin' mouth open for me, baby," Dean growled, voice pure filth. "Gonna feed you somethin' every time I sink a ball."

Khoa whimpered but obeyed, parting his lips.

Crack.

One ball sank.

Dean leaned over him, grabbed Khoa's jaw roughly, and spit directly into his open mouth. Khoa shuddered, swallowing it down without hesitation, his cock throbbing harder against Dean’s abs.

"Good fuckin' boy," Dean hissed, grinding their cocks together, dragging another needy whimper from Khoa’s throat.

Dean lined up again, never breaking filthy contact, never giving Khoa a second to breathe.

Crack.

Second ball dropped cleanly.

Dean fisted Khoa's hair, pulling his head back, and spit another thick glob into Khoa’s open, panting mouth.

"Fuckin' hungry for it, ain't you, baby boy?" Dean growled, voice dark and wrecked.

Khoa moaned, swallowing greedily again, cock twitching helplessly against Dean's hard stomach.

"Y-Yeah, Dean," Khoa gasped, voice cracking. "Want it… want all of it... fuckin' need it."

Dean smirked darkly, his cock throbbing even harder against Khoa’s leaking shaft. He lined up again, rutting slow and filthy into Khoa’s body.

Crack.

Third ball sank.

Dean grabbed Khoa's cheeks, forced his mouth open wide, and spit one last time, the spit trailing down Khoa's chin as he swallowed desperately, his entire body burning under Dean’s filthy control.

"Three balls, baby," Dean rasped, grinding slow, hard circles against Khoa’s cock. "And you’re still beggin' like a fuckin' slut."

Khoa whimpered brokenly, nails digging into Dean’s shoulders, hips bucking upward, desperate for more.

Their cocks slid against each other, wet, hot, leaking uncontrollably, trapped between their grinding abs, the obscene squelch of precum filling the air around their filthy moans.

Dean’s mouth crashed down against Khoa’s, filthy, brutal, devouring him with sloppy, wet kisses, the taste of spit and sweat mixing on their tongues.

Dean finally pulled back from the sloppy kiss, a string of spit still connecting their lips, both of them panting hard. He gave Khoa a wicked smirk, licking his own lips slow. "Your fuckin' turn, baby boy." He stepped back, eyeing Khoa’s wrecked body—sweaty, flushed, cock dripping against his abs, hole still glistening from his mouth making him chuckled darkly. "Even if you’re desperate to get that virgin ass wrecked, at least pretend you're tryin'. Don't just give in and make it boring, baby."

Dean grabbed the waistband of Khoa's shorts—still tangled around his thighs—and yanked them the rest of the way off, tossing them carelessly to the side. Khoa was now completely naked, exposed and dripping on the pool table.

Khoa glared up at him, breathing hard. "Fuck you, Dean," He growled, voice rough.

Dean just grinned wider. "Soon enough, baby boy."

Khoa slid off the table, planting his feet on the floor, legs still trembling slightly. His cock stood rock hard, bobbing with every step, leaking steady trails down his thighs.

Dean, meanwhile, was still fully dressed—his loose beach shirt hanging open, his swim shorts hiding the heavy bulge of his throbbing cock, the outline of it obscene against the thin fabric, wet from his own leaking precum soaking through.

"I'll fuckin' catch up," Khoa muttered, picking up his stick. He bent forward to line up his shot—body gleaming under the lights, muscles flexing beautifully—but the second he bent, Dean was there, pressing right up behind him, grinding his covered cock against Khoa's bare ass, the slick wetness from both of them making the contact filthy and hot.

Dean grabbed Khoa’s chin roughly, turning his head sideways. Without waiting, he shoved two fingers between Khoa's parted lips.

"Suck, baby," Dean growled, his voice pure filth.

Khoa glared for a second, but opened wider and sucked Dean's fingers deep into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them, drooling shamelessly. His cock twitched, throbbing against his abs.

Dean groaned low, feeling the hot, wet suction.

"That's it... get 'em nice and sloppy for your tight little hole."

Dean pulled his fingers free with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting them. He dragged his soaked fingers down the sweaty cleft of Khoa’s ass, finding the twitching, spit-slicked entrance.

Without warning, Dean teased the rim—rubbing slow, dirty circles over it, making Khoa tremble and gasp against the table.

"Come on, baby boy," Dean whispered, licking the shell of Khoa's ear slow and filthy. "Hit the ball. Win the game. Bend me over and fuck me like you've been dreamin' about every lonely fuckin' night."

Khoa shivered violently, hips jerking helplessly back against Dean's hand, feeling the thick, obscene heat of Dean’s clothed cock pressing harder.

"Fuckin' asshole," Khoa muttered under his breath, teeth gritted, cock leaking a steady, humiliating trail down his thighs. He pulled back, tried to aim—and swung.

The ball clattered—and missed.

Not a single one went in.

Dean laughed darkly against his ear, pressing a finger harder against Khoa's twitching hole.

"Looks like you’re mine, baby boy," Dean rasped, voice dripping filth.

And Khoa, panting, leaking, trembling, felt his body surrendering already, wrecked by nothing but Dean's filthy teasing.
Dean grinned wider, not giving Khoa a chance to recover.

He grabbed Khoa roughly by the arm and yanked him down, forcing him hard onto his knees in front of the pool table. Khoa’s head leaned against the edge, his bare ass shamelessly exposed, his thick cock hanging between his trembling thighs, leaking nonstop onto the floor.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Khoa rasped, panting, body burning, but he didn’t resist.

Dean just smirked, dark and dangerous. He reached down and finally yanked his soaked swim shorts to the floor, stepping out of them with a cocky swagger.

Khoa’s breath caught the second his eyes landed on it.

Coach Dean’s cock—thick, brutal, a dark, veiny monster—hung heavy between his legs, the fat crown flushed an angry red, drooling precum that dripped in thick strings toward the ground. It was massive—long and girthy, framed by coarse pubes that made the thick shaft look even meaner.

Khoa swallowed hard, throat dry, his heart hammering wildly. His mouth watered in equal parts fear and raw, filthy need.
Dean stroked his cock slow and taunting, veins bulging along the shaft, precum spilling with every flex of his fist.

"Open up, baby boy," Dean growled.

Khoa hesitated for only a heartbeat—then obeyed, lips parting obediently.

Dean pressed the leaking head against Khoa's mouth, smearing thick precum across his lips like a filthy, glossy paint, coating them slick and wet.

Khoa moaned low, the salty, musky taste exploding on his tongue. His cock twitched violently, aching for touch.

Dean glanced over, catching Josh and Adrian at the other table, both too far gone in their own lust to notice anything.

"Everyone's busy, baby boy," Dean rumbled darkly. "No one's gonna fuckin' save you."

Dean bent his knees slightly, lined up his cue stick in one hand—and at the same time, he shoved the thick, heavy crown past Khoa’s swollen lips.

Khoa’s mouth stretched painfully wide around the fat head, his jaw instantly aching, spit spilling from the corners of his mouth.

Dean’s thick, trimmed pubic hair tickled Khoa’s nose, the heavy, masculine scent overwhelming every sense he had. His tongue struggled against the veiny shaft, feeling every hot throb, every heavy pulse.

Khoa gagged softly, trying to adjust to the sheer size and weight of it—his lips stretched thin, drool spilling down his chin in wet strings.

Dean grinned viciously, one hand fisting in Khoa’s messy hair, holding him firmly in place.

"Keep that pretty mouth open for me, slut," Dean rasped low, voice pure filth. He lined up the cue stick with his free hand, cock grinding slow and deep into Khoa’s stretched, drooling mouth.

Crack.

The ball rolled—and sank perfectly into the corner pocket.

At the same exact second, Dean thrust his hips forward with brutal force, shoving more thick inches of cock down Khoa's throat.

Dean roared in triumph, hips rutting shallowly, feeling Khoa’s throat working desperately around him.

"Fuckin' winner," Dean growled, voice ragged, drunk on power and lust.

Khoa moaned helplessly around the thick cock splitting his mouth open, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, spit and precum slicking his chin, chest, and abs.

In that moment, with the pool ball sinking and Dean's cock claiming his mouth, Khoa knew—deep in his gut, deep in his trembling, leaking body—that he had lost.

He wasn’t leaving this night with his cherry intact.

He was about to be ruined.

And the filthy part?

He fucking wanted it.

Dean pulled his slick cock out of Khoa's wet, swollen mouth with a filthy pop, spit and precum smearing down Khoa’s chin, dripping onto his flushed, heaving chest.

Without giving him a chance to catch his breath, Dean grabbed him by the arm and yanked him up to his feet.

Khoa, drunk on lust, barely realized what was happening, staggering slightly as Dean pulled him upright. His cock bounced heavily between his thighs, leaking trails of precum down his golden skin, his hole still twitching and wet from Dean’s earlier assault.

He blinked blearily, instinctively looking across the room—catching sight of Josh perched on the other pool table, legs spread wide, Adrian standing between them, mouths locked in a filthy, desperate kiss. Adrian's hands roamed over Josh's sweaty, glowing skin, grinding shamelessly against him.

Khoa’s cock twitched violently at the sight, his body betraying him with filthy need.

But Dean didn’t give him time to stare.

Dean yanked him toward the door—Khoa completely naked, bare-assed, his skin sticky and flushed, while Dean walked beside him with a cocky, filthy grin, his loose beach shirt still hanging open, swinging with every heavy step, his own cock hard and leaking freely.

The humid night air slammed into them, cool but thick, clinging to their sweaty bodies. Khoa shivered, more from the filthy heat inside him than from the breeze.

They moved quickly, sneaking toward Dean and Josh’s villa—Dean's hand gripping Khoa’s wrist like he owned him, dragging his naked, desperate prize behind him.

But just as they got closer, the sound of the other group’s laughter and conversation carried on the breeze—sharp, clear, inescapable.

Khoa stiffened instantly, heart slamming into his ribs, feet planting in the sand.

"Fuck—Dean, wait," he hissed, panting, panic cutting through the fog of lust. "Phuwin’s there… Phuwin’ll fuckin' notice I'm gone!"

Dean let out a savage, frustrated growl, his cock throbbing violently.

"Baby boy," he snarled darkly, stepping closer, crowding Khoa back against a tree trunk, "I'm gonna fuck you tonight—I don't give a fuck if your husband watches."

Dean grabbed Khoa’s chin roughly, forcing him to meet his furious, lust-blown eyes.

"I'm gonna tear this tight fuckin' cherry ass open, and you’re gonna fuckin' take it, right there, in the fuckin' sand if you make me wait."

Khoa’s cock jerked violently, his thighs trembling from the filthy threat alone. He panted, chest heaving, every part of him screaming for it—but he shook his head, voice breaking.

"Not tonight," Khoa gasped, barely able to get the words out. "I'll—I'll let you… fuck me. I promise, Dean. Just… not tonight."

Dean’s grip on his chin tightened.

"You better fuckin' mean it, baby boy," Dean growled, voice dangerous and thick with hunger. "Or next time… next time I'll bend your pretty ass over and fuck you in front of your fuckin' husband. Make him watch you moan like a fuckin' slut."

Khoa whimpered low in his throat, cock twitching helplessly against his belly.

Dean sneered, releasing him with a shove.

"Run, baby boy," he rasped, voice broken and raw. "Before I fuckin' lose the last of my fuckin' patience."

Khoa didn’t hesitate.

He turned and bolted—naked, sweaty, sticky, cock bouncing wildly as he sprinted across the sand toward his villa, desperate and humiliated and burning for more.

Dean stood there, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his temple, cock standing angry and heavy against his stomach.

He chuckled low, pure filth rumbling from his chest, and turned toward his own villa, each step heavy with restrained hunger.

As he approached, he caught sight of Adrian—alone, stiff, guilty—heading toward his villa with a wrecked look on his face.
Dean’s smirk widened into something dark and dangerous.

Josh didn’t get lucky tonight either.

Good.

Tonight was just the first night.

The first taste.

Soon—

Josh would be choking on Adrian's cock, begging to be ruined.

And Khoa…

Khoa’s tight virgin ass would be stretched wide, dripping with Dean’s cum, broken and owned.

Soon.

Very soon.

And when it happened, they would both be begging for more.

To Be Continued...