Yannis Paluan grips Jeroen Mondrian’s hips as he drives deep, his thick cock buried to the root while the third man watches, beer glasses clinking between them. The two on the table, one with a tattooed forearm, the other’s fingers tracing wet heat, share a slow, deliberate kiss as Yannis’ breath hitches over Jeroen’s shoulder. A hand slips inside, slick with saliva, while the other holds a glass steady, the only sound the wet slap of skin against skin.
