The bearded man pins Zeke’s hips to the bench, his fingers digging into the smooth, muscular back while Zeke’s mouth wraps tight around his cock. Lucas grips the bench’s edge, his dark hair falling forward as he slams deeper, the chair creaking under Zeke’s weight. One hand slides between them, fingers working his hole while the other grips the bench, the sweat-slicked skin glistening. The gym’s equipment frames them, bench, chair, while their mouths crash together, teeth clashing.
