Ryan Cage kneels over Jerome Fisher’s taut, tattooed arms while his fingers dig into the smooth, corded muscles of his back, the outdoor light catching the sweat glistening on his chest. Jerome lies sprawled on a mat in the woods, his hole already slick as Cage’s mouth seals over it, tongue probing deep before his hands grip Jerome’s hips to pull him up for a rough kiss. The air smells of earth and oil as Cage’s teeth graze Jerome’s neck, his fingers slipping inside the tight, clenched asshole.
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