Sean Zevran rims and fucks Tristan Scott

Sean Zevran kneels on the locker room bench, tongue deep in Tristan Scott’s tight asshole while his fingers stretch him open, muscular, clean-shaven, and relentless. Tristan stands over him, gripping the bench for balance as Zevran’s cock slams home, and uncut, the sound of flesh meeting flesh sharp against the tile. The air smells like sweat and oil, their bodies slick with sweat as Zevran’s hands grip Tristan’s hips, pulling him down harder with every thrust.