James Nowak’s beard scrapes against Matias Toledo’s jaw as he grips his hips, fingers probing deep while Toledo arches into the couch, his muscles taut. Nowak’s mouth seals over him, tongue working relentlessly as his other hand pulls Toledo’s cock hard, the dark hair of both men slick with sweat. They strip in place, the couch creaking under Toledo’s weight as Nowak’s grip never loosens, fingers curling inside him.
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