Andrew Bolt secures Tyler Tanner’s wrists with cold black leather cuffs while the blond leans in to lick the dark-haired man’s throat, fingers already probing his tight hole. Strapped upright to the pole, Tanner arches as Bolt’s grip tightens, his smooth, muscular body stretched between the restraints. The only sound is the rasp of metal against skin and the wet, deliberate slide of a lubed finger.
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