Johny Cherry and Thomas South

Johny Cherry and Thomas South stand over uneven ground, one still in firefighter gear, the other already stripped down to bare skin, their dark hair slick with sweat as they grip each other’s hips and press their mouths together. Thomas South’s fingers slide deep into Johny Cherry’s hole while he sucks his throat raw, the rough texture of the gear digging into his back as they move without protection. The air fills with the wet sounds of tongues and the sharp inhale of breath when Johny Cherry finally takes him, gripping the waistband of his pants to pull him closer.