Shinta and Hiroya Have Sex In Suits
Shinta and Hiroya turn corporate attire into a kinky playground in this high-voltage scene where power ties and repressed desires collide. Shinta, the buttoned-up office enigma, hides a submissive streak that Hiroya—a dom with a knack for unraveling polished façades—exploits with ruthless precision. What begins as a clandestine after-hours meeting erupts into a sweat-drenched, suit-clad fuckfest, blending boardroom aesthetics with unhinged filth.
Blindfolded and trembling, Shinta’s senses heighten as Hiroya teases him into submission. The crisp white shirt stays on, but Hiroya makes sure it’s soaked with sweat, unbuttoned just enough to expose Shinta’s heaving chest. Hiroya’s mouth works magic on Shinta’s cock, slurping and sucking with a hunger that cracks the salaryman’s stoic veneer. “Beg for it,” Hiroya demands, yanking Shinta’s tie like a leash before shoving him onto the bed.
The suits stay—Shinta’s slacks pooled at his ankles, Hiroya’s dress shirt clinging to his torso—as roles solidify. Hiroya fingers Shinta’s hole with the focus of a strategist, stretching him open while mocking his muffled whimpers. “This what you stayed late for?” he sneers, slamming into Shinta doggystyle, the smack of skin echoing like a metronome. Shinta’s corporate composure shatters: his pleated shirt rumpled, tie askew, dress shoes digging into the mattress as he takes every brutal thrust.
Hiroya’s climax is a command, not a request. He pistons into Shinta, grip bruising his hips, until the salaryman erupts untouched—thick ropes defiling his own starched shirt. Hiroya follows, painting Shinta’s hole with cum before collapsing atop him, both men a disheveled tangle of Armani and arousal.
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For fans of Shinta’s brooding intensity and Hiroya’s dom-swagger, this scene is a masterclass in contrast. The suits? They’re not costumes—they’re weapons. And by the end, Shinta’s learned the real corporate ladder is climbed on hands and knees.
