Harri Oakland’s beard scrapes Clayton Fox’s throat as he grips his hips, fingers already probing deep inside the tight, slick hole. The blond lies sprawled on his back, legs spread wide, his smooth chest rising fast as Oakland’s mouth seals around his cock. The couch creaks under their weight, the kneeling man’s grip rough as he guides himself home, the first slow thrusts already stretching Fox open.
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