Toby Springs grips the basketball hard enough to bruise as Colt Rivers kneels between his spread legs, his tongue tracing the thick vein of Toby’s cock before swallowing deep. The bench creaks under Toby’s weight as he shoves Colt’s face down, fingers digging into the dark hair at his nape while the other hand wraps around his own shaft. The tattooed chest heaves with every sharp inhale, the basketball rolling between them as Colt’s lips seal around Toby’s balls, his throat working in time with the wet, rough suction.
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