Huxley’s beard scrapes against Hoyt’s neck as he grips his hips, fingers sliding deep while Torsten’s tongue traces the seam of his asshole. Jerome’s mouth seals around Hoyt’s cock, teeth grazing the shaft as Huxley’s other hand pulls his hair, forcing him to take every inch. The outdoor light cuts through the sheets, sharp and unfiltered, as Hoyt’s breath hitches between moans and the wet, rhythmic pull of two mouths working him at once.
More galleries

































