Michael Delray’s broad chest flexes as he pins Dante Colle against the stool, his tattooed ribs pressing into the leaner man’s back while his fingers dig into the dark hair at the nape. Dante takes him deep, throat working around the thick cock with a wet, hungry sound, his own hole already slicked by Michael’s fingers before the first slow thrust drives him down. The white briefs slip away as they move, leaving only skin and the sharp contrast of Michael’s grip on the stool’s edge, his knuckles white as he guides himself deeper.
