Marcello Mastro pins Sandro Dias down, his tattooed arms braced over the man’s shoulders as he drives into him hard. Sandro’s dark hair falls across his chest while Marcello’s fingers dig into his hips, pulling him deeper with every thrust. The bed creaks under their weight as Marcello’s mouth seals over Sandro’s, teeth grazing his lip before he pulls back to lick the sweat from his neck. A hand slides between them, slick with pre-cum, while the other traces slow circles around Sandro’s hole, preparing him for the next deep, unrelenting stroke.
