Jeremy Walker’s tattooed arm wraps tight around Cayden Ross as he presses his mouth to the other’s asshole, tongue probing deep while Ross grips the wall, his clean-shaven jaw clenched. The shower’s spray blurs their bodies in close, steam curling between them as Walker’s fingers dig into Ross’s hips, holding him steady for the slow, deliberate lick. Ross returns the favor, his own tongue tracing Jeremy’s hole with practiced precision, the water droplets glistening on their skin as they stand locked together.
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