Viktor Burek pins Alan Carly to the mat with a brutal shoulder lock, his dark hair damp against the blue padded floor as Alan grunts through the strain. They wrestle in tight, sweaty holds, Burek’s grip bruising Alan’s ribs, his own breath ragged as he flips him onto his back. Alan reverses the pressure, locking Burek’s legs in a squat hold, their muscles straining against each other’s weight. The air thickens with the wet slap of skin on skin, their kisses breaking only to lock teeth and wrestle for dominance.
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