Valentin Petrov grips Tony Portofino’s hips as he slams into him on a locker room bench, the tattooed chest rising with each rough thrust while Tony’s fingers dig into the wood beneath them. The air smells of sweat and leather as Valentin’s cock drags against his hole, his breath ragged against Tony’s neck before he pulls back just enough to slam home again. Close-ups show the tight stretch of Tony’s asshole, slick with pre-cum, as Valentin’s grip tightens, no foreplay, just the wet, bruising rhythm of a man who knows exactly how hard he wants to fuck.
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