Spencer Locke pins Oliver Beck down, his dark hair slicked back as he grips the slim, light-haired man’s hips and drives in hard, the bed creaking under their weight. Beck’s fingers dig into the sheets while Locke’s tongue traces the tight ring of his asshole, the slick sound of rimming cutting through the air. They switch positions, Locke now kneeling, his smooth, muscular frame bent over the pillows as Beck takes him deep, bareback, the thrusts rough and unrelenting.
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