Robby Barrera and Andrew Kitt

Robby Barrera kneels behind Andrew Kitt, his fingers probing the tight hole while Kitt arches into the touch, one hand gripping the chair for leverage. The blond’s smooth, muscular back presses against the table as Barrera’s mouth seals over his asshole, tongue working deep before pulling back to lap at the slickness. Fingers slip inside while teeth graze the curve of his spine, the only sound the wet smack of lips and the rough inhale of breath.