Luke Kennedy and Mars Rousseau

Luke Kennedy’s beard scrapes against Mars Rousseau’s throat as he grips his jaw and forces a thick stream down his throat, the blond’s knuckles white where they dig into the dark-haired man’s shoulders. Mars kneels on the inflatable, his fingers slick with water as he circles Kennedy’s hole before pressing two against his tight ring, the pool’s edge blurred behind them. Kennedy’s tongue drags up the inside of Mars’s mouth, then dips lower, lapping at the salted skin where their bodies press together. The float bobs as Mars takes him deep, his own cock twitching against the water’s surface, the only sound the wet slap of lips and the rhythmic pull of a throat working.