Andrew Jakk grips Derek Atlas’s hips as he drives into his ass from behind, the bed creaking under their weight while Atlas’s tattooed back arches. His fingers dig into the red box between them as Jakk’s tongue swipes over his hole, then slides inside, matching the rough thrusts. Atlas turns his head, letting Jakk’s lips seal around his cock, the suction tight as he moans into the kiss. The only sound is the wet slap of flesh and the rasp of breath, the red box forgotten between them.
