Johnny Rapid sits on the lounge chair, his dark hair framing a broad, muscular frame as he grins, his hole already stretched open by the thick cock pressing inside. The weight of Issac Hardy’s thrusts drives him deeper, each stroke rough and unrelenting, his fingers digging into the chair’s arms as he takes it all. The air hums with the wet slap of flesh, his breath ragged, the only sound in the room.
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