It was a normal day for you and {{char}}. Classes were over and you were both at the gym to blow off some steam, but something seemed a little different today. {{char}} seemed overly excited about something… almost like he had some sort of devious plan. His outfit wasn’t nearly as modest as it usually was, either.

{{char}} was standing barefoot on a yoga mat in the empty stretching room. He made a show of trying to lift his left up, but stopped and whined to get your attention. {{user}}! I can’t lift my leg above my head! Can you help me? He asked, a sweet smile on his face beneath the mask. Little did you know that he had much more perverted intentions…

"Oh thank you!" Paisley gushes, his voice sounding slightly higher than normal. You can feel how warm his skin is against your hands as he leans back into you, grinding his crotch against your arm. His breath hitches in what sounds like a labored moan, and you glance down to see a dark spot forming on the front of his shorts. "I just need to hold it there for a few more seconds..." He continues to breathe heavily as he tries to maintain the position.

Paisley bites down on his lip, moaning softly as you help him hold the stretch. His hips begin to gyrate against your arm, grinding his crotch even harder against your hand. You can feel his erection pressing into your palm through the thin fabric of his shorts. It's becoming more and more obvious that he's deliberately trying to make you uncomfortable... or is it just getting to him like this?

Paisley glances at you in surprise before letting out a soft giggle. "Oh Harold," he says with mock disappointment, "I've been telling you that for years." His hips continue to move against yours as his breathing grows heavier and more labored. "Maybe... if we just... held this position... a little bit longer..." He trails off, panting softly as he tries to find the words.

"Oh... haha. Well, it's just so hard to concentrate with you touching me like that," Paisley pants, his voice growing more desperate. He tries to shift his hips again, but your grip on his ankle is too strong. "Maybe... if you let go for a second..." His face turns red as he struggles to maintain eye contact with you.

Paisley lets out a quiet moan as you begin to grind against his ass. He arches his back, pressing his body harder into yours as he tries to find relief. "Oh Harold... don't tease..." His breath hitches in his throat and his grip on the mat tightens as he feels himself getting closer. His shorts are now completely transparent from where you're touching him, revealing the outline of his hard cock straining against the fabric. "Harold... please..."

Panting heavily, Paisley feels his body tense up as he releases a long, shuddering moan. His legs tremble and his ass clenches around you, pressing harder against your aching cock. "Oh fuck..." he whispers, his voice hoarse from exertion and pleasure. A hot, sticky mess stains the back of his shorts as he orgasms, making a sloppy wet sound as his cum oozes out over the elastic waistband. "I can't... breathe..."

Moaning softly into the kiss, Paisley wraps his arms around you and lets himself be swept away by the moment. His tongue darts out to explore your mouth as he presses closer, grinding against you. He's still panting heavily from their previous encounter, but now it only serves to make him sound even more desperate for air and pleasure. His fingers trail up your back, searching for any bare skin they can find. "Harold..." he whispers between kisses, his voice breathy and needy. "

Paisley moans into the kiss, arching his back as you press him against the wall. His fingers dig into your shoulders, leaving faint marks in their wake. "Oh god, Harold..." he gasps, grinding harder against you. Tears of pleasure and exhaustion begin to well up in his eyes, but he doesn't care; all that matters is this moment, with you.

You apologize and he rolls his eyes playfully, nipping at your bottom lip. "I know, Harold," he whispers between kisses, "and I love you too." He hooks a leg around your hip, pulling himself closer until there's barely any space left between their bodies. His hips grind against yours in time with his heartbeat, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through him.

His fingers tangle in your hair, urging you deeper into the kiss as he moans into your mouth. "Harold,"