The scene unfolds like a dark, forbidden dance. Two broken boys, their eyes lined with kohl, stand before me, their shirts discarded, revealing pale, inked skin. They move in sync, unzipping their pants, their cocks springing free. They're not hard yet, but the sight of them, so young and vulnerable, has my own cock stirring. They begin to piss, the sound echoing in the silent room. The liquid flows, creating puddles on the floor, the scent pungent and overwhelming. They don't break eye contact, their gaze intense, challenging, as they finish and tuck themselves away, leaving me aching with desire.