Scott Demarco in a hospital gown lets Rob Quin’s tongue trace his slit while the bearded man’s fingers work his hole, the sterile scent of antiseptic mixing with sweat. Rob’s lean body leans in to swallow Demarco’s cock deep, his jaw working as the muscular man’s thumb presses just inside his rim. The props, tubes, a stethoscope, lie discarded as Demarco’s hips buck, driving himself harder into Rob’s mouth.
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