Alan Craft and Chris Fox

Alan Craft grips Chris Fox’s hips, his dark hair slick with sweat as he drives deep into the sauna’s steam, while Fox moans around his cock, fingers already buried in his asshole. The towel draped over the bench catches their slicked-up skin as Craft pulls back, only to slam forward again, his muscular chest heaving. Fox kneels between his legs, tongue tracing wet lines down Craft’s spine before his lips seal around his hole, the air thick with the sounds of sucking and the wet slap of flesh.