Wesley Woods grips Casey Jacks’ hips as he drives deep, his tattooed chest heaving with each thrust while the other’s fingers dig into his ass, tracing the slick heat before pulling back to lick the tight ring. The balaclava-clad one kneels behind, his muscular arms wrapped tight around Casey’s waist as he tongues the puckered hole, the bed creaking under their weight. Wesley’s grip never loosens, his cock pounding relentless, while Casey’s breath hitches between moans and the wet, desperate pull of a tongue against his ass.
