Jed Willcox grips David Barthory’s hips as he drives into him from behind, the strap biting into his thighs while Barthory’s head hangs low, his dark hair obscuring his face. Willcox’s fingers dig into the smooth muscle of his ass, teasing the hole before slamming deeper, the rhythm rough and unapologetic. Barthory’s chest rises and falls with each thrust, his neck exposed as Willcox sucks the pulse point, teeth grazing the skin. The belt loops tight around his waist, anchoring him as Willcox fucks him standing, the angle sharp and relentless.
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