Thor Sigurdson grips Brett Swanson’s hips as he drives deep, his tattoos flexing against the sheets while Brett moans into his mouth, fingers already working his hole. The blond’s breath hitches as Sigurdson’s tongue traces his rim, then his cock pushes in hard, stretching him open. Brett arches into the thrusts, gripping the sheets as Sigurdson’s grip tightens, his own cock leaking against their bodies.
