Businessman Ethan Chase Bottoms For Sir Peter
Ethan Chase and Sir Peter’s office passion turns into a wild love marathon. That’s how routine tech call spirals into raw, suit-clad seduction. The hum of fluorescent lights mixes with the rhythmic clack of Ethan Chase’s keyboard, the office empty save for the late-night glow of monitors. When Sir Peter buzzes in—his tailored suit hugging his chiseled frame, tie loosened after hours—the air thickens. Ethan’s gaze lingers on the contractor’s broad shoulders, the way his shirt strains against biceps as he digs into a tangled server rack. Sir Peter glances back, catching Ethan’s stare, a smirk tugging his lips. Their eyes duel—Ethan’s a mix of guilt and hunger, Sir Peter’s dark with challenge.
“Sign here,” Sir Peter murmurs, handing Ethan a clipboard. His voice is gravel, fingers brushing Ethan’s as the pen hovers. “You’ve been watching me all night,” he adds, leaning in. Ethan’s pulse races, ink smudged on the page as his hand trembles. “Suits do something for you, huh?” Sir Peter’s thumb grazes Ethan’s knuckles, and the younger man swallows hard. “I’m into it,” Sir Peter rasps, his breath hot against Ethan’s ear.
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The clipboard drops. Ethan’s tie yanks loose, shirtsleeves rolled as Sir Peter crowds him against the desk. Their kiss is teeth and tongues, Ethan’s hands clawing at Peter’s belt, desperate to feel the steel-hard cock straining beneath wool. Sir Peter hoists Ethan onto the cold surface, stripping off his jacket, tearing at buttons until Ethan’s chest glints under artificial light.
“Spread,” Sir Peter commands, nudging Ethan’s legs wide. He sinks into him, their moans swallowed by the empty office, the slap of skin echoing like a heartbeat. Ethan grips the desk’s edge, balls deep in heaven, as Sir Peter pistons into him—slow, then brutal. Cum ropes blast Ethan’s stomach; Sir Peter follows, growling as he floods him. They linger tangled, sweat-slicked, and shameless, the servers humming approval in the dark.
