Henrik Bjorn’s beard scrapes Bob Marghiela’s neck as he grips his jaw, tongue deep in a slow, deliberate suck that pulls a choked groan from his throat. The woods swallow their sounds, the damp air thick with the weight of their mouths locked together, fingers tangled in each other’s hair. Bjorn’s grip tightens, his own cock pressing hard against Marghiela’s thigh as he works the other man’s lips open wider.
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