Connor Patricks pins Hunter Page to the leather couch, his dark hair framing a muscular frame as he grips the man’s hips and drives his tongue deep into his mouth. Hunter kneels between his legs, fingers working into his asshole while his own cock twitches, untouched but ready. The only sound is the wet slap of skin and the sharp inhale of breath when Patricks pulls back, leaving Page’s hole slick and waiting.
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