David Harr and Simon Clay

David Harr’s thick, corded arms lock around Simon Clay’s waist as he drives deep, the bed creaking under their weight, while Clay grips the sheets, his fingers tracing the ridges of Harr’s ass before pulling him back for a rough, open-mouthed kiss. Harr’s tongue pushes past Clay’s lips as he works his cock into the tighter hole, the sound of flesh slapping wetly filling the room, while Clay’s hands dig into Harr’s hips, guiding the thrusts with a desperate urgency. The floral sheets blur as Harr’s breath hitches, his grip tightening until Clay’s back arches, the first hot pulse of cum spilling into his ass without a barrier.