Derek Kage’s bearded hands grip Jonathan Tylor’s hips as he slams into him, the tattooed chest pressed hard against the wall, his breath ragged with each thrust. Jonathan’s hole clenches around him, fingers digging into the rough concrete as Derek’s cock swells deeper, his own release building with every sharp, wet sound. The camouflage behind them blurs the edges of the scene, but the way Derek’s grip tightens when he finally spills inside him is all that matters.
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