Maxx Lear and Mr Kamp

Maxx Monroe’s beard scrapes against Felix Kamp’s hairy chest as he kneels, Santa hat tilted over one eye, while Kamp grips his own cock hard enough to make his knuckles whiten. Monroe’s fingers probe Kamp’s tight hole until he’s slick enough for his tongue, then his mouth seals around the puckered flesh, working it open with slow, deliberate pressure. The couch creaks as Kamp arches into the touch, his own hand pumping furiously while Monroe’s beard brushes the back of his thighs.