Max Lacoste grips Anthony Karlier’s hips as he kneels in the golden cornstalks, his dark hair catching the sunlight while Karlier arches into the air, ass raised for the deep thrusts of Max’s tongue. The yellow shirt clings to Karlier’s smooth, muscular back as Max works his fingers inside, then switches to the hot, tight hole with slow, deliberate pressure. When he stands, Karlier’s cock swells under Max’s grip, his own mouth sealing over the head before he takes it all the way down. The sky stays clear, the stalks swaying, but the only focus is the way Karlier’s body bends, first to the rim, then to the hand pumping him hard.
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