What started as a chill hangout in the kitchen erupted into a full-throttle cock carnival—and we’ve got the cum stains to prove it.
The vibe shifted when nose-ringed menace™ (shoutout to our ginger bottom hero) decided the snack table wasn’t enough. Dude went feral, dropping to his knees and deepthroating every dick in sight like he owed the universe a debt in throat. Even Bob—our “professional” cameraman—said “fuck it,” whipped out his gear, and joined the buffet line.
The living room became Slurp City Central. Bodies piled onto the sofa: a twink sucking a bear, a jock face-fucking a twink, and Ginger Satan himself getting spit-roasted between two tops. Bob, now fully unhinged, mounted the ginger and plowed him raw doggystyle while the rest of us cheered, jerked off, and filmed the carnation. The soundtrack? Gagging. Moaning. And the rhythmic slap-slap-slap of Bob’s balls against that firecrotch ass.
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Clothes? Gone. Dignity? Evaporated. The party morphed into a free-for-all: dicks slapping against backs in the hallway, a dude getting railed on the stairs, and someone’s abandoned beer can used as a… creative prop. By 3 AM, the walls were glazed, the floor was a biohazard, and we’d officially christened the place Cum Cottage.
Too much? Good. We’re just warming up.
