Brandon Moore’s thick fingers split Rogue Status’ tight hole with brutal precision, the strap-on’s black leather harness digging into his hips as he bends forward. Rogue’s beard bristles against Moore’s chest while his ass clenches around the thickest digits, fingers pumping deep before Moore flips him onto his back for a slow, relentless stretch. The air hums with the wet slap of flesh and the rasp of skin against leather, every position, standing, bent, flat, pushing Rogue’s limits further.
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