Nathan Raider’s thick fingers dig deep into Johny Cruz’s tight hole while he pins him down, the red padded surface slick with sweat and the yellow gloves slipping off his wrists. Their mouths crash together as Raider’s muscular frame presses him into the mat, fingers working fast before he pulls back to line up. The dark-haired top doesn’t wait, his cock slams home in one rough thrust, the sound of flesh meeting flesh cutting through the tension.
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