Amone Bane fucks Aaron Trainer

Amone Bane grips Aaron Trainer’s hips as he drives into his throat, the bald, dark-skinned man’s muscles flexing over the lighter, tattooed one sprawled beneath him. A tongue depressor presses against Aaron’s throat while Amone’s fingers trace his chest, then slide down his ribs, each movement checked by the cold metal of an otoscope. The examination table creaks as Amone shifts, his grip tightening on Aaron’s legs, pulling them wider for the next probe.