Justin Blaber kneels in the backseat of a car, his tattooed arms gripping the leather jacketed man’s hips while he takes him deep, the hat casting shadows over their faces as fingers trace wet heat. The other leans against the door, his dark hair falling forward as he strokes himself, lips locked in a slow, open-mouthed kiss that never breaks. Hands grip, tongues slide, and the car’s dim light picks out the glint of sweat on skin as one pulls back just enough to lick a thumb before pressing it inside.
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