Felix Fox grips Joey Mills’ hips hard as he slams into him from behind, the table creaking under their weight while the other leans forward, fingers already buried deep inside. The blond’s knuckles turn white around Joey’s waist, his dark hair falling forward as he works the cock in his mouth, throat bobbing with every thrust. Naked by the end, their sweat-slicked bodies press against the draped fabric, the only sound the wet slap of flesh and the rough exhale of men who’ve worked this out, no more words, just the weight of labor spent.
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