Andrew Connor lies spread-eagled on the bed while Brayden St Jaymes drives into him with rough, relentless thrusts, his own short blond hair contrasting with Connor’s gray. The bearded man above grips his hips hard, fingers digging into Connor’s ass as he sucks his neck, the sound of flesh slapping wetly filling the room. One hand slides between them to finger Connor’s hole, already slick with anticipation, while the other grips his cock, hard, thick, and ignored for now. The power shift is brutal, the focus all on Connor’s body being taken, stretched, and claimed.
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