Andre Boleyn pins Derek Caravaggio’s hips down as his tongue traces the tight ring of his asshole, fingers already probing deep before the head of his cock pushes in. The blond’s smooth, muscular body presses Derek into the sheets, his dark hair falling forward as he moans into the kiss, lips parted for the wet, relentless slide of Andre’s tongue against his hole. Derek grips the sheets, his own cock straining as Andre’s fingers curl inside him, teasing the spot that makes his breath hitch. The bed dips under their weight, the sheets tangled between them as Andre’s cock finally bottoms out, stretching him open with every slow, deliberate thrust.
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