Johnny Ford’s gloved fingers probe Quin Quire’s tight hole while the stethoscope rests against his chest, the cold metal pressing into his skin as Ford leans in to kiss him. The examination table creaks under their weight, the blue latex of the gloves slick with lube as Ford works Quin’s ass open, fingers curling deep before pulling back to tease the entrance. No condom separates them, just the raw, deliberate thrust of a medical exam turned into something far more intimate.
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