Kyle Dean’s smooth, muscular frame pins Forrest Marks down on the couch, his grip tight as he works the other man’s mouth with deliberate precision. Forrest’s blond hair is pulled back, his jaw locked in focus as Dean’s tongue drives deep, fingers digging into his hips to hold him still. The bedroom’s muted light catches the sweat glistening on their skin, the only sound the wet, rhythmic suction of Dean’s mouth on Forrest’s cock.
