Leo Summers and Justin Tiempo

Leo Summers kneels between Justin Tiempo’s spread legs, his tongue tracing the tight ring of his asshole while Justin arches back, gripping the couch cushions in a knot of yellow and green. The lean, dark-haired man above him fingers his hole open, fingers slick with saliva, as Summers’ beard brushes against the smooth skin of his thighs. Their mouths crash together, teeth clashing, while the couch frames them in a tangle of bodies and fabric.