Reese Rideout’s dark hair falls across his shoulders as he kneels, his muscular frame bent low over Eric Pryor’s spread legs, the popcorn in his hand crunching between bites while his tongue traces the tight ring of his hole. Pryor’s smooth skin glistens under the light, his body still as Reese’s fingers dig in, pulling him open before the first slow thrust drives deep. The popcorn kernels scatter as Reese rides him hard, each bite punctuating the wet, rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh.
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