Wolf Hot and Justin Tiempo

Wolf Hot grips Justin Tiempo’s hips as he presses his tongue deep into his asshole, the tattooed muscles of his back flexing under the dim light. Justin leans forward, his shaved head close enough to feel the rough scrape of Wolf’s beard against his throat while his fingers probe the tight ring of his hole. The concrete floor stays cold beneath them as Wolf sucks hard, his grip tightening when Justin moans into the kiss, his own fingers sliding between Wolf’s cheeks. No barrier holds them back, just the wet, hungry work of two bodies locked together.