Damien Nichols grips Scott Finn’s hips hard as he slams into him, the camouflage shirt still clinging to his back while Finn’s bare chest glistens with sweat. His fingers dig into the muscle of Finn’s thighs, holding him steady as Damien’s cock pounds deeper, the sound of flesh meeting flesh sharp and unfiltered. Finn’s hands brace against the wall, his own muscles straining as Damien’s weight presses him forward, each thrust driving them both closer to the edge. The only thing separating them is the rough fabric of the shirt, until it’s torn away, leaving nothing between them but skin and the relentless rhythm of fucking.
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