Joey Milano’s beard scrapes Gabriel D’alessandro’s jaw as he grips his hips, fingers already working the tight asshole while the red mats bite into their knees. The locker behind them looms, dented metal reflecting sweat as Joey’s tongue traces the puckered hole before his cock slides in, rough and unrelenting. Gabriel moans into the kiss, his own hand lost in Joey’s hair as the fingers stretch him open, no prep, no hesitation, just the push of a cock claiming the asshole.
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