Ayden James kneels over Kenny Crusoe, his fingers tracing the tight, slick heat while the other man lies back with a cigarette clamped between his lips. The slim, clean-shaven bodies move in sharp contrast, one gripping himself hard as Ayden’s tongue works the tight ring, then the slow, deep thrust that fills him. Smoke curls between them as fingers and cocks take turns claiming what the other can’t.
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