Faisul Bittar grips Micky Davis’s hips hard as he slams into him on the locker room bench, the orange peel clutched between them for slickness. Davis moans around Faisul’s cock as it fills his mouth, his fingers already working the other’s tight hole while they both grip each other’s dicks. The bench creaks under their weight as Faisul’s tattoos flex with every thrust, his breath ragged against Davis’s neck.
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