Robbie Rojo grips Maikel Cash’s tie as he kneels, his fingers tracing the other’s cock while Cash’s lips seal around his own. The leather couch creaks beneath them as Robbie’s mouth works his way down, teeth grazing the thick shaft before he takes it deep, fingers sliding into Cash’s tight hole. Cash strokes himself hard, his breath ragged, while Robbie’s cock twitches against the armchair’s leather, both men lost in the rough rhythm of sucking, fingering, and the wet slap of flesh meeting flesh.
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