George Basten and John Hill

George Basten grips John Hill’s hips as he slams into him, the headboard creaking under their weight, while Hill’s tattooed arms brace against the mattress. His fingers dig into Basten’s ass, pulling him deeper as Basten’s mouth seals around his cock, swallowing him whole. The bed shifts with every rough thrust, the air thick with the sound of skin slapping and Hill’s breath ragged against Basten’s neck.