Rimi Morty’s broad, smooth chest presses into the couch as Elio Pjatteryd’s curly hair brushes his ribs, fingers already working the slit of his hole while his own cock throbs in his grip. The yellow pillow cradles Morty’s head as Pjatteryd takes him deep, then switches to jerking himself off with one hand while his other slides between Morty’s thighs. They strip away clothes until only skin and desperate need remain, the couch creaking under Morty’s weight as Pjatteryd lines up and drives in.
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