Mason Wyler’s dark hair brushes Kelly Taylor’s smooth chest as he kneels between his thighs, fingers already working the tight hole of the man sitting on the couch. The muscular blond grips his own cock while the other’s tongue traces the seam of his lips, then slips inside to lap at the salty heat. One hand slides down to tease the slick entrance, the other gripping the couch cushion as Mason’s breath hitches against Kelly’s mouth. The couch dips under their weight, the only sound the wet smack of tongue and the rough gasp of fingers stretching him open.
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