Dakota Payne’s smooth, tattooed body bends over Logan Cross’s hard frame as he grips the foreman’s son’s hips, fingers already working the tight hole before the first deep thrust. The blond’s muscles ripple under the safety vest, his breath ragged as Cross pins him against the rough wood panels, rimming him while Dakota’s lips seal around his cock. The metal beams of the construction site frame them, hard hats discarded, skin slick with sweat and oil, before the vest comes off and the only thing left is the way Cross fucks him until Dakota’s grip tightens on the beam, his ass clenching around the thick cock buried deep.
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