Ace Quinn grips Teddy Torres’ hips as he drives into him hard, his bearded chest pressed against the exercise ball while Torres arches back, fingers tangled in the dark hair at his nape. The tattoos on his muscular arms ripple as he guides Quinn deeper, their breath ragged with the wet sounds of bareback fucking. Before and after, Torres kneels between Quinn’s spread legs, his clean-shaven jaw close to the asshole he’s already rimmed, while Quinn’s tongue traces the sweat-slicked skin of his throat.
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