Chris Brown’s broad, tattooed chest presses against Jack Janus’s lean frame as he grips his hips, fingers sliding deep into the tight hole while the car hums around them. Jack’s head tilts back, mouth open as Brown’s tongue traces the sensitive skin beneath his jaw, his own hand gripping the window frame for balance. The air smells of leather and sweat, the heat of the engine radiating against their backs as Brown’s other hand works the thick cock straining against his pants.
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