Tommy Steele’s bearded grip tightens around Jake Hunter’s hips as the strap-on slides home, his dark hair framing the angle where Jake’s hole stretches tight. The thong’s bold letters flash between them as Steele’s tongue traces the rim, then his fingers work Hunter’s ass open before the thick cock takes its place. Hunter’s jaw clenches around Steele’s cock, his own hand wrapped tight as he chokes it back, the two of them lost in the rough rhythm of Steele’s thrusts and Hunter’s desperate grip.
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