Ricky Larkin’s beard brushes Lucas Leon’s ass as he rims him hard against the green locker-room bench, his fingers already probing the tight hole while Leon grips the edge, jersey still clinging to his locker. The bearded one’s tattoos flex as he leans in, tongue swirling the puckered ring before pulling back to lick the slickness off his lips, Lucas’s hole glistens, fingers still buried deep as he arches into the touch.
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