Jack Hunter’s stocky frame pins Drew Dixon down, his tattooed arms locking the black leather harness tight around the other man’s waist while his fist works the tight hole. Drew’s dark hair falls forward as Hunter’s thick fingers stretch him open, his mouth sealing over the asshole in a wet, greedy pull. The high stool keeps him bent backward, hands bound and helpless as Hunter’s fist pumps in and out, rough and relentless.
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