Kory Houston’s casting couch reel opens with the dark-haired, smooth, muscular man on his knees, his chain necklace glinting as he takes the strap-on deep into his throat. The average-built bearded one grips his hips, fingers tracing the tight hole while the other watches, lips parted in a sharp intake of breath. Facials and rimming blur into close-ups of flushed skin and desperate, focused expressions, no hesitation, just the hunger of a scene where every touch is deliberate.
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