Joe Gunner grips Geoffrey Paine’s hips, his beard rough against the clean-shaven jaw as he slams into him from behind, the bed creaking under their weight. Geoffrey’s dark hair hangs forward, obscuring his face behind the mask, while Joe’s tattoos flex with every thrust, his grip tightening around the sheets. Fingers probe deep, tongues trace the rim, and the air thickens with the wet sounds of their bodies locked together.
