Bastian Dufy’s beard scrapes against Jim Durden’s chest as he grips his shoulders, fingers digging into the smooth muscle while his mouth seals over the other’s asshole. The red pillow beneath them stains with sweat as Durden arches, his dark hair falling forward as Dufy pulls back just enough to lick the tight ring before plunging deeper. Their bodies press together, chests rising and falling in sync as Dufy’s hands slide down to grip Durden’s waist, holding him steady for the next thrust.
