Mario Vertigo pins Stephen Angel’s hips down while his beard scrapes against the other’s throat, fingers probing deep before the first slow thrust splits them open. Stephen’s knuckles dig into the sheets as Mario’s weight drives him into the mattress, each stroke pulling a choked gasp from his mouth. The air thickens with the wet sound of lips sealing around his cock, then the brutal rhythm of asshole stretched wide, one hand gripping the sheets, the other tangled in dark hair.
