Kevin Nash pins Jack Styles down on the bed, his tattooed chest pressed against the smooth skin of his partner as he works the fingers of one hand deep into the tight hole while the other grips the sheets. Jack kneels between Nash’s spread legs, his own dark hair framing the way he licks and sucks at the asshole before sliding two fingers into the mouth, his peace sign gesture cutting through the tension. The pillows beneath them cradle the weight of Nash’s dominant hold as Jack’s fingers probe and tease, the contrast of their smooth, tattooed bodies moving in deliberate rhythm.
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