Malachi Marx grips Diego Sans’ hips as he flattens his tongue against his throat, fingers probing deep while the other’s ass clenches around his knuckles. Diego arches into the pressure, his hole stretched open as Malachi’s lips trail down his spine, then back up to claim his mouth in a rough, open-mouthed kiss. The bed creaks beneath them as Malachi’s thumb circles Diego’s entrance, his breath hot against the curve of his neck.
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