Allen King and Giuspel Sun stand side by side, their dark hair framing broad, tattooed shoulders as Allen King grips his cock with a rough, confident grip. Giuspel Sun watches, his own thick shaft already slick with precome, fingers curled around the base as he works himself with slow, deliberate strokes. The air hums with the wet sound of their hands moving, the veins on Allen King’s forearm standing out as he pumps harder, his breath steady. Giuspel Sun’s jaw tightens, his free hand resting on his thigh as he leans slightly forward, the tension in his body coiled tight. Neither looks away, just the two of them, the rhythm of their hands, and the quiet promise of what comes next.
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