Jason Alcok kneels behind Tyler Bolt, gripping his hips as he drives into him with slow, deliberate thrusts while Bolt’s fingers dig into the sheets. Their bodies move in tight sync, the slick sound of skin meeting skin the only rhythm in the room. Alcok’s dark hair falls forward as he leans down, his breath hot against Bolt’s neck while his hands slide over the smooth, slim frame bent beneath him.
