JC Hunt Bangs His Boss’ Son Jonathan Tylor
JC Hunt’s mentorship of rebellious Jonathan Tylor spirals into a raw, bareback encounter, blending authority and desire—a primal clash of discipline and debauchery that leaves both men marked.
JC Hunt arrives at Jonathan Tylor’s loft under the guise of mentorship, his tailored suit and polished shoes contrasting with Jonathan’s ripped jeans and careless smirk. The rebellious heir sprawls on the couch, a joint dangling from his lips, eyes raking over JC’s broad shoulders and firm jaw. “Daddy sent you to fix me?” Jonathan purrs, blowing smoke.
JC’s rehearsed speech about responsibility dies as Jonathan stands, closing the distance. His fingers trail down JC’s tie, lingering at his belt. “Or did he send you to entertain me?”
JC’s resolve cracks. He pins Jonathan against the wall, their mouths crashing together—a clash of mint and weed. Jonathan’s hands yank JC’s shirt open, buttons scattering as JC tears Jonathan’s tank top down the middle. The younger man’s lithe, toned body presses flush against JC’s muscular frame, their cocks grinding through layers of fabric.
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Jonathan drops to his knees, freeing JC’s thick cock, his tongue swirling the head before swallowing him raw. JC’s fingers tangle in blond waves, hips thrusting into the wet heat until Jonathan pulls back, gasping. “Your turn,” he rasps, turning to present his ass, jeans shoved to his knees.
JC spits on his hole, fingers stretching him rough and quick before slamming in bareback. Jonathan’s moans crescendo, his body arching as JC’s cock carves into him, each thrust punctuated by the slap of skin. They fuck against the wall, then on the floor, JC’s polished shoes digging into Jonathan’s thighs as he drives deeper.
Jonathan cums untouched, his load streaking the hardwood. JC follows, filling him with a guttural groan, his teeth sinking into Jonathan’s shoulder.
