Landon Mycles and Jimmy Coxxx

Landon Mycles grips Jimmy Coxxx’s hips while his tattooed chest presses into the couch, fingers digging into the thick muscle of his thighs as they kiss hard. The dark hair on both of them is slick with sweat, their mouths open in a rough, unhurried demand as Coxxx’s hands slide up Mycles’ back, nails scraping the inked skin. The couch creaks under their weight, the only sound between the wet smack of lips and the deep exhale of Mycles’ breath against Coxxx’s neck.