Beno Eker and Josh Cavalin dominate a couch as the stocky one pins the slimmed, dark-haired man down, his fingers gripping the back of his neck while the other presses close, tongues tangling. The muscular one kneels between them, his calloused hands sliding over slick skin, tracing the seam of the bottom’s tight hole before circling back to the thick, veined cock straining against his chest. The air thickens with the scent of sweat and need as rough palms explore, the couch creaking under the weight of bodies locked in relentless hunger.
