Felix Maze kneels before Legrand Wolf, gripping the bench’s rough wood as Wolf’s fingers trace his tight hole, no hesitation, just the slick press of a lubed digit. Wolf’s clean-shaven jaw tightens over the kiss, teeth grazing Maze’s lip before he pulls back, mouth watering for the cock already half-hard in his grip. The steam fogs the air as Maze’s tongue swipes Wolf’s rim, then his fingers slide deeper, curling just enough to make Wolf’s breath hitched. When Wolf finally flips them, Maze’s ass clenches around the first slow thrust, the bench creaking under their weight as Wolf’s grip on his hips never loosens.
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