Jake Deckard and Anton Harri

Jake Deckard grips Anton Harri’s hips as he kneels on the damp earth, his dark hair slick with sweat, while Anton’s stocky frame arches into the bench’s rough wood, his fingers already buried deep inside him. The blond’s mouth seals over Anton’s cock with a wet, hungry sound, his tongue tracing the vein before pulling back to lap at the head. The outdoor light carves shadows across their bodies, but the only thing that matters is how Jake’s grip tightens when Anton moans, his ass clenching around those fingers.