Alan Carly pins Viktor Burek in a tight headlock, his forearm locked around the neck while the other grips the back of his thighs, muscles straining as they wrestle on the blue mat. Viktor’s fingers dig into Alan’s shoulders, his own body arched in resistance before yielding to a deep kiss, lips parted as tongues clash. When they break apart, Alan flips him onto his stomach, fingers probing Viktor’s tight hole while the other man’s breath hitches, his ass lifted in silent invitation. The air thickens as Alan’s mouth seals over the puckered flesh, tongue swiping before Viktor’s fingers twist in the mat, gripping for balance as the first wet slap of tongue hits his asshole.
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