James Huck drives Alex Morgan’s head into the damp earth, his grip on the blond’s hair so tight it pulls his chin up just enough to see the way his own cock throbs between their bodies, already slick with spit and the first hot pulses of his load. The lean, tattooed man kneels behind, fingers already buried in Alex’s asshole while his tongue laps at the crack of his hole, the woods swallowing their groans as Huck’s hips snap forward, each thrust sending Alex’s face deeper into the moss. The blond’s hands claw at the bark of a tree, his body arched back to take every inch, the outdoor light catching the sweat beading on his chest as Huck’s cock slams home again and again, his own breath ragged with the effort of holding Alex down.
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