Jaxon Radoc kneels under Oscar Roberts’ slick, bearded chin, his blond hair plastered to his forehead as Roberts’ fingers dig into his ass, slick with water and need. The shower spray blurs the edges of their bodies, but the way Roberts grips Jaxon’s hips, one hand pulling him back, the other already tracing the tight ring, makes the water feel like nothing. Jaxon’s mouth opens around Roberts’ cock, his throat working as the other man’s tongue finds his hole, the two of them lost in the rhythm of wet, desperate movements.
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