Jake Bass grips his cock hard, the veins bulging as he strokes himself with rough, deliberate strokes, his dark hair framing a face twisted in concentration. Asher Hawk stands behind him, his muscular frame barely visible but his presence dominating the close-up, just the tattooed forearm and a hand resting on Jake’s shoulder, guiding the rhythm. The two move in sync, their focus locked on the act, the air thick with the sound of skin against skin.
