Dillon Diaz grips Michael Boston’s hips as he drives into him hard, the red silk of his own underwear the only thing left between them. Boston moans around Dillon’s cock while his fingers work Dillon’s ass, slick with lube, the couch creaking under their weight. They switch, Dillon takes Boston’s hole with his mouth, tongue tracing the tight ring while Boston fingers Dillon’s own asshole, both of them naked now, the red lingerie discarded. Boston’s hands grip Dillon’s thighs as he’s fucked deep, his breath ragged against the sheets.
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