Will Angell fists Hungerff

Will Angell’s fist wedges deep into Hungerff’s tight hole, slick with lubricant as the stocky, bearded man grips the bottle between his teeth while Will’s graying hair and muscular frame anchor him. Their hands clasp tight, fingers knotted as Hungerff braces for the stretch, the thick, hairy fist sliding in slow, deliberate thrusts. The only sound is the wet pop of lubricant and the, unfiltered groan of a hole stretched beyond its limits.