In the sultry backroom of Chicago's Cellblock bar, the air is thick with anticipation as blonde boypig J.C. Cole takes a seat at the bootblack's chair. The stage is set for an unforgettable encounter, with Brad McGuire standing before him, ready to be pampered. J.C. Cole's eager eyes lock onto Brad McGuire, gauging the intensity and desire in his gaze. With a confident smirk, J.C. leans forward, stretching out to catch that first taste, his tongue darting out to glide along Brad's polished shoe. Each lick is slow and deliberate, purposeful, taking care to clean every inch. The sound of moist lips sliding over polished leather sets the atmosphere, and soon, Brad begins to relax, letting his guard down. J.C.'s skilled workmanship is evident as he takes his time, removing dirt and grime from each crevice. As Brad starts to unwind, the environment around them fades away; the dim lights, the low murmur of voices, all blending into the background. It's just Brad and J.C. now, their focus singular and unwavering. Accomplishing his task on Brad's shoes, J.C. stands up, his movements fluid and confident. The transition from boot cleaner to personal masseur is seamless. Brad's eyes follow J.C. as he circles behind, his touch gentle and inviting as he asks, "Ready for a little something more?" With Brad's consent, J.C. begins a thorough massage on that smooth white butt, using his hands to coax every muscle into relaxation. His fingers dig in just enough, finding the tension points and kneading them out. Brad, fully in J.C.'s capable hands, lets out contented sighs as his body softens under the massage. In the dimly lit backroom, all distractions are forgotten, leaving only Brad and J.C.'s heated connection. The massage becomes more than just physical, transforming into an intimate exploration of bodies...
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