Jirka Syty grips Alan Carly’s hips as he slams into him, the Santa hat slipping low over his brow while Alan’s breath hitches against the red bedding. His fingers dig into Alan’s ass, tracing the wet heat before Jirka’s cock buries deeper, the Christmas lights in the backdrop flickering as Alan moans into the kiss. A tongue sweeps over his hole, then Jirka’s own thrusts hard, the bed shaking with every rough pull.
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