Ashton Bradley’s tight grip pins Justin Tiempo’s hips against the plastic as he drags the slick sheeting over his body, leaving nothing but the sheen of water and the faint outline of his cock beneath. The two move in slow, deliberate circles, their mouths locked while Ashton’s fingers trace the damp folds of Justin’s ass, pulling the wrap tight enough to make every breath a struggle. The water splashes against the plastic, turning the scene into a slick, suffocating embrace where the only escape is the way Ashton’s teeth graze Justin’s neck before he finally shoves him against the structure, fingers digging into the stretch of the wrap as he lines himself up.
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