Bo Sinn’s hooded face looms over Collin Lust as he grips his hips, fingers digging into the taut flesh of his ass while the masked man’s cock slams home. The green mask hides nothing, just the way his beard scratches Collin’s back when he bends forward, the blunt head of his dick stretching him open. Collin’s hands brace against the wall, knuckles white, as Bo’s thrusts turn rough, each one deeper than the last.
