Tyler Berg grips Sir Peter’s hips hard as he slams into him from behind, the pool deck’s rough concrete biting into their knees with every thrust. Sir Peter’s bearded jaw locks onto Tyler’s shoulder while his fingers dig into the wet deck, his ass clenching around the thick cock driving into him. The sunglasses Tyler wears hide his eyes, but his grip never loosens as he shoves deeper, his tattoos flexing with every movement. Sir Peter’s hole ripples around him, his breath ragged as Tyler’s tongue traces the sweat-slicked dip between his shoulder blades before his fingers slide back inside.
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