Nils Tatum grips Alan Cartier’s hips as he drives deep, the slick sound of lube cutting through the air, while Alan moans into his mouth, fingers already working his asshole open. Tatum’s tattoos stretch taut over his chest as he pulls back, then slams forward again, the dark-haired man’s breath ragged against his beard. Cartier’s smooth, muscular body arches under him, his hole stretched wide as Tatum rims him before finally burying himself inside, bareback.
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