Ashton Bradley & Pan Bash

Ashton Bradley secures Pan Bash’s wrists with tight ropes while the shorter, clean-shaven man kneels between his spread legs, tongue already tracing the tight ring of his asshole. Bradley’s muscular frame looms over him, fingers probing deep before his cock slips inside, stretching him open with slow, deliberate thrusts. Pan’s body tenses as Bradley grips his hips, the uniform long gone, leaving only the rough bite of restraint and the wet, rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh.