Nathan Sommers pins Thor Martin’s hips down while his tongue traces the tight ring of his asshole, fingers already buried deep inside. The dark-haired, muscular man below lets out a low groan as Sommers’ weight presses him into the mattress, his own hands gripping his own thighs wide open. Both mouths meet in a rough kiss, spit mixing with the slick sounds of lips pulling back, teeth grazing. The air fills with the sharp inhale of Thor’s breath as Sommers’ cock drags against his cheek, the other man’s fingers working his hole in slow, deliberate strokes.
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