Pierre Fitch kneels, his dark hair framing a muscular frame as he grips William Seed’s cock with deliberate strength, the tattooed skin of his forearms flexing under the weight of his grip. William stands firm, his hands resting on Pierre’s shoulders, guiding the deep, relentless strokes that make the cock swell and pulse. The air thickens with the sound of skin slapping flesh, the only rhythm in the room.
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