Bastian Dufy’s beard brushes Kieran Benning’s neck as he grips his hips, fingers already probing deep into his asshole while the other man’s tongue swipes wet and deliberate over the tight ring. The couch creaks under them as Kieran arches back, his dark hair falling forward to obscure the view of his hole being worked open, then parted by thick fingers before the first slow, deliberate thrust of Bastian’s cock splits him open. The bench in the corner stays silent as they move, no words now, just the wet sounds of lips sealing around flesh, the sharp inhale of breath when Bastian’s tongue finally drags up the crack, then back down to lap at the slick entrance.
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