Jordan Levine grips Zane Anders’ hips as he slams into him against the brick wall, the cop’s cap abandoned on the pavement while his tattooed chest heaves with every hard thrust. Zane’s clean-shaven jaw clenches around Jordan’s wrist as he fingers his own hole, slick with spit and need, while Jordan’s bearded chin drags along his throat in rough, possessive kisses. The air hums with the wet sound of lips sealing around cocks, fingers probing deep, and the sharp snap of skin against brick as one man pins the other into the wall.
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