Clay Towers grips Chad Brock’s hips as he kneels, his beard rough against the other’s chest while Brock’s fingers dig into the couch armrest. The bearded man’s tongue works deep into Brock’s mouth, teeth scraping just hard enough to make him swallow a groan. A hand slides between Brock’s thighs, fingers slick with his own wetness as Towers pulls back only to lick the evidence from his palm.
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