Blake Allen’s red hair hangs loose as he licks Preston Andrews’ hole with slow, deliberate strokes, the rainbow lollipop between his lips adding a sharp contrast to the slick, tight heat. Preston grips the edge of the orange backdrop, fingers working inside him while Blake’s tongue presses deeper, the suction of his mouth pulling a sharp gasp. Their bodies move in tight, unspoken rhythm, slim and smooth against each other, the air thick with the sound of wet lips and the rasp of breath.
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