Jaxx Thanatos grips Angel Ventura’s hips as he drives into his ass from behind, the bed creaking under their weight. His fingers dig into the dark hair at the nape of Ventura’s neck while his mouth seals over the tight ring, tongue probing deep before switching to the slick heat of his hole. Ventura arches back, his own hands gripping the sheets as Thanatos’ cock slams home, each thrust rough and unrelenting. The air fills with the wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh, the only music the ragged breaths and the slap of skin.
