Tristan Hunter grips a rope, his dark hair slick with sweat, while Dalton Riley stands beside him, muscular and smooth-skinned, both of them stroking themselves against the cold metal. The rope cuts into Hunter’s palm as he leans forward, his focus locked on the slow, deliberate strokes of his cock. Riley watches, his own hand moving with deliberate precision, the tension in his jaw the only sign of restraint. Neither stops until the first thick ropes of cum arc across the metal, painting the surface with their shared release.
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