Maori Mortensen pins Jeroen Mondrian’s hips down while his tongue traces the tight ring of his asshole, slick with lube. The tattooed arm grips the spread thighs as fingers probe deeper, then switch to Mondrian’s cock, thick, flushed, and already leaking, while his own fist works Maori’s rigid length. Both men move together, breathless, as lips crash into a desperate kiss.
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