Jerome Exupery’s beard brushes Olaf Mortensen’s smooth, pale skin as he kneels behind him, lips sealing tight around his asshole while fingers grip the sheets. The blond’s tight hole clenches against Jerome’s tongue, the close-up framing the wet, hungry pressure of his mouth working deep. No other hands touch, just the slow, deliberate thrust of Jerome’s face into Olaf’s ass, the slick sound of his lips pulling back.
