Adam Bryant grabs Lance’s ass while blindfolded, his fingers digging deep as the purple tie around his neck tightens with every groan. Lance, shirtless and bound, arches into the touch on the desk, the couch, the table, anything that holds him still while Bryant works his hole open, fingers slick with need. The office furniture creaks under them, but neither man looks away from the act, not even when Bryant’s own hand joins in, rough and relentless.
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