Frank Vickers grips Neal Shaw’s shoulders as he bends him over, tongue deep in his asshole while fingers stretch him open, muscles straining under the pressure. Shaw stands rigid, gripping Vickers’ hair as he leans in for rough, open-mouthed kisses, their bodies locked in a desperate, unbroken hold. The larger man’s grip never lets go, even when Vickers drops to his knees behind him, licking and sucking with relentless focus.
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